Telly shook his head. “Nope, I’m done.”
“Played a good hand,” Ramona nodded sagely.
“I’m tired,” Telly said to the table. He tipped the dealer three hundred dollars. The dealer nodded with surprise.
“Wise decision,” she agreed. “Not smart to play when you’re tired. I’m still thinking on a name to call you. You playing here tomorrow?”
Telly shook his head. “Probably not.”
“Like hell you say,” Clutch said angrily.
Telly grinned at Clutch as he carried the four trays of chips toward the cashier. Clutch steamed with frustrated rage. Telly refused to let it bring him down or allow Clutch to bully him anymore. He was tired.
“I want to thank you,” Telly said with astonishment at the two stacks of ten thousand dollars, plus a few thousand extra. Just yesterday morning he would have given his eye teeth to hold a couple thousand, and here he was tipping hundred chips like they were nickels and dimes.
“You’re so welcome, sir,” the cashier smiled back. Telly plucked out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to her. “Thank you.” She nodded, folding it in half and sliding it into her pocket. He could get used to this, he thought, feeling great.
“Very nice,” Clutch said sarcastically. “If you keep tipping like that, you’ll go through all your money in no time.”
“You said, ‘Give big, get big.’” Telly shrugged, pushing up his glasses, which had slid down his nose.
“You can’t give big if you don’t play enough.”
“Look,” Telly said, “it’s six thirty in the morning.” People gave him a wide berth. He realized that he was getting some strange looks. “Come on.” He motioned toward the entrance. “I have to get home and tell Gretchen,” he whispered, his eyes darting around. He realized suddenly that he was alone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Clutch found himself outside his former home, noticing a shutter hung off one of the windows. The large flowerpots that Ginny had always filled with flowers stood barren, the dirt dry and cracked. Clutch walked through the door, surprised at the threadbare rug. He didn’t remember it being so worn. Ginny lay curled on her side on the sagging couch, her plump hand under her puffy cheek. A bottle of something was on the lamp table. Clutch picked it up. Tequila? Ginny never drank. Her pursed lips blew gently. Clutch knelt beside her, his ghostly fingers stroking her graying hair from her sweaty face. New lines bracketed her mouth. She wet her lips, a tear leaking from her closed eye. “Clutch,” she sighed.
The ring of the phone broke the silence of the room. Ginny rose, bleary-eyed, to answer it. She rubbed her face with a weary hand. “I got them,” she said softly. She staggered to a table with a pile of mail, the phone close to her ear, and held up plane tickets to Phoenix. “I know. I know. But I can’t.” The other person spoke for a long time. She wiped a tear from her eye. “I told you, I’m sorry, but…I’m not ready. I’m really sorry.” The line went dead.
Clutch looked at the lone plant, which was wilting in the Vegas heat. His normally tidy and clean home looked unkempt, as did Ginny. She had always been so happy, filled with sunshine. She looked so…alone now. He didn’t like to think about that. They had been together ten years; she was considerably younger, and he’d never given a thought to the fact that he might leave her completely and utterly alone. She had no one to watch over her.
His mind raced as he saw scene after scene from the ten years they were together. She worked hard, bringing in money when he didn’t. She watched his kid on the days Ruby stayed with them. He had to work—sometimes games went for days—but Ginny never complained. Not like Jenny, the bitch he’d married. Pursing his lip, he tried to remember if he’d ever thanked her. Nothing came to mind. He should have told her he loved her. He wished he had said it at least once. He bent over to kiss the powdery skin of her cheek.
“Tell her now,” Sten, the avenging angel, said from behind him.
Clutch stood, his face a mask of hatred. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Sten ignored him. He gestured to the woman staring out the back door to the overgrown yard. “She’ll be happy to hear it. Say it.”
Clutch launched himself at the levitating man, but their forms merely passed through each other, doing no harm. He landed in a heap, smashing against the fireplace. Above him, an urn wobbled from its perch on the mantle. Clutch watched as it wavered. Sten held out a hand to catch it, but Clutch leaped up, knocking it from the white hands, letting it fall onto the swirling patterns of the braided rug. “I don’t need your help!” he shouted.
The urn lay on the floor, its top rolling under a chair, gray dust puffing out.
Ginny jumped at the disturbance, but all she saw was Clutch’s urn lying on the floor. She figured it must have tipped from its spot. She knew she should have put it in a safer place. She bent down and collected the container, holding it close to her chest. “I still miss him,” she moaned. “I can’t, Stan. I can’t.”
“Stan?” Clutch whispered, not knowing who she was talking about.
“Everybody needs help at one time or another,” Sten said as he winked out of the room.
Clutch stared at his Ginny holding what was left of his cremains. “Not if they don’t exist,” he replied to nobody in particular. He faded out of the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Telly opened the door to his apartment as quietly as he could. Closing the door with equal care, he failed to see Gretchen on the orange sofa, her face set with anger.
“Telly Martin,” she whispered harshly, “it’s seven o’clock in the morning.”
Startled, Telly dropped the cash he was taking out of his pocket. It fell on the floor, coming out of its strap and spreading in a wide arc from his feet. Gretchen jumped up, gasping. Sophie the belly-dancing dog ran in circles around the money, wheezing. Oh, this you notice, he thought, looking at the excited dog.
“Where did you get all that money!” she demanded.
Telly pulled out a packet of ten thousand from each side of his pants, thrusting it into Gretchen’s hand. They both bent to pick up the cash from the floor. Gretchen stacked it carelessly on the coffee table.
“I won it, Gretch,” he told her excitedly.
Narrowing her bright eyes, she looked at him skeptically.
“Really. I did.”
“You hit a jackpot? In a machine?”
“Poker. I won it all at poker.”
“How? How could you have played, Telly? You didn’t have anything to join a game.”
Sophie decided to bark loudly at that moment, and the man from 4A banged against the wall. “Loser…I’m sick and tired of your noise. I’m gonna come there and throw that dog out the window,” he called again.
Telly lowered his head, mumbling, “Quick Daddy and Cheryl…”
“You took money from Cheryl…?”
“Borrowed. Listen, I can explain everything,” Telly said urgently.
Clutch appeared next to Gretchen and interrupted. “Don’t do it, Telly.”
“Oh, now you’re back?” Telly spat to Clutch.
“I’ve been here for hours,” Gretchen answered hotly.
“She’s pissed.” Clutch laughed.
“Shut up!” Telly told Clutch rudely.
“What?” Gretchen said with shock. Tears leaked down her face and made her mascara run.
Telly turned to her. “Not you, Gretchen.”
Clutch grabbed his arm. “She’ll never believe you, pal. You’re gonna ruin everything.”
“I told you to leave me alone,” Telly yelled at Clutch, batting his arms wildly.
Gretchen stood, fury and hurt making her vibrate. “Leave you alone? Maybe I should.”
“Gretch, not you. Him,” Telly said, pointing to empty air.
Gretchen looked, her hands wiping her tears. “I don’t know wha
t you are talking about.”
“I won tonight. I won big, but I won with…a little help.”
“What?”
“Clutch…Clutch Henderson helped me.”
Gretchen rolled her eyes impatiently. She tapped her foot, her hands on her hips. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Clutch Henderson—really? What, did you take his book to the tables and cheat?” She grabbed his hands palms up. “Did you write crib notes on your hands?”
Telly pulled his hands away, his face suffused with red.
Gretchen felt anger building in her chest until she felt the walls caving in. Sweet, dependable Telly had ignored everything they’d discussed. He was treating her like a...a... nothing. Her job was hanging by a thread. Words failed her. She didn’t want to tell him about Rob. She didn’t want to add more to his shoulders and tell him about the other thing. Not yet. She never complained…never. “Didn’t we decide you weren’t going to play anymore, Telly? What happened to your responsibility to me?”
Telly watched in mute shock as Gretchen’s anger became a living thing. They hardly ever fought. He followed her as she stalked to the bedroom. “We talked it over. You were going for a job. The experiment ended. You agreed to stop.” She covered her face with her hands forlornly. “You are putting me in a bad situation.”
“Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?”
“Uh-oh, that was stupid,” Clutch remarked.
“Do me a favor and don’t help me,” Telly yelled at Clutch.
“Don’t help you? You don’t appreciate anything I’ve done,” Gretchen cried.
“No, Gretchen.” Telly followed, trying to get her to calm down. “He’s here. He didn’t give me a choice. He keeps talking to me.”
“I don’t believe this,” Gretchen said.
“Told ya,” Clutch added from his spot by the doorframe.
Telly spun, pointing his finger. “I told you to stay out of this.”
Gretchen watched, her eyes widening as Telly spoke to the air. “Don’t talk to me that way!”
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him!” Telly pointed to a darkened corner of the room.
“That was dumb,” Clutch told him. “She can’t see me.”
“Why me? Why am I the only one that sees you?” Telly turned to Gretchen and pleaded, “Look hard, Gretch. Can’t you see him?”
Clutch shrugged, but Gretchen rounded on Telly, her temper up. “Who…what are you talking about? There’s nobody here but us.”
“Clutch Henderson is in the room.”
Gretchen’s eyes filled with both anger and frustration. “No, Telly. There’s nobody here.”
Telly took her hand, which she pulled away, annoyed at him. “I spent the evening with Clutch Henderson. He went with me to play poker. He’s helping me.”
“That guy died. It was in all the papers and all over the news. He’s been dead for a year now.”
“I know,” Telly calmly agreed, leading her to the foot of the bed, where they sat on the edge. “He’s a ghost.”
“Telly, please don’t make up stories.”
Telly stood to pace the room. “I have never lied to you. He’s here, right now, leaning against the doorframe.” He looked hard at Clutch. “He’s laughing at us.”
Gretchen shook her head. “Stop it. Stop it right now. You’re scaring me.”
“Oh, don’t be scared,” Telly said, misunderstanding her meaning. “He’s not a scary ghost.” Telly spoke urgently, trying to make her understand. “I mean, he was a little scary to me at first, but then—”
“OK. I think I’ve had enough. I have to think. Look, we made a pact. A couple of weeks and then you would stop.” Gretchen was at the end of her rope.
“I made money tonight. That was part of the pact, too. We’re just getting started.”
“It’s dirty money. I don’t know how, but it’s dirty. It’s not enough to live on for long. Haven’t you realized that already? There is no future in this.”
“There’s twenty thousand dollars on that coffee table.” Telly pointed to the other room.
“Haven’t you learned from the last time you won? It doesn’t last. It’s not steady,” Gretchen argued.
“I did steady for twelve years, and where did that get me?”
“Don’t start, Telly. Once we pay the rent, living expenses, and such, you’ll need some for another game.” Gretchen paced the room, ticking off her points on her fingers. “Then when you lose that, you’ll need some more.” She turned to face him, her voice imploring, “Don’t you see, Telly, with gambling, there is never enough. Things are changing!” Gretchen cried out.
“What’s changing? Nothing’s changed between us. But I won. What if I win again, and again?”
Gretchen raised her eyebrow. Her arms were folded. Telly had never seen her so intractable.
“It could happen.” Telly shrugged.
“I only agreed to this whole plan because you were so depressed about not finding a job.” She continued more to herself: “I wanted you to have some fun, you know? Get it out of your system. But now I want my steady old Telly back,” she whined.
“Steady old Telly,” he repeated with disgust.
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“Well, it sounded shitty. Like I’m some sort of pet.”
She stood and pointed at Telly’s chest. “You know what? You are having a nervous breakdown. Poker is messing with your mind. You’re twisting everything I say. I don’t think I can deal with this right now. I have enough to worry about. Oh…I don’t know what to do. I have to think of how to handle this…”—she turned to look at him—“…how to handle you.” She went to the closet and pulled out an overnight bag. She threw a few things haphazardly into the bag.
Telly was panicked. “Stop, Gretch. What are you doing?” He grabbed the handle of her bag to try to stop her.
“Let her go, Telly.” Clutch struggled with Telly. “Chicks like her are a dime a dozen. My grandpappy always said, ‘Don’t chase after a woman or a bus. There’ll always be another one.’”
“Leave; get out of here!” Telly slapped at the air, and his glasses flew off his head.
Gretchen stared at him, her blue eyes widening. “You told me to stop you. It’s like you’re possessed.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Telly said.
“I feel like I don’t know you,” Gretchen sobbed loudly. She stormed from the room, her bag under one arm. She scooped up Sophie and headed out the door. “This isn’t a dream come true; it’s a nightmare.”
“Gretchen!” Telly yelled, moving to go after her. Sophie turned, her baleful, crooked eyes watching mournfully.
The phone cord traveled from the side of the bed, wrapping itself around Telly’s ankles. He went down like a stone, flat on his face.
“Let her cool off. You’re not gonna get anywhere. She’s just pissed off at you right now,” Clutch said amicably.
Telly tore off the cord clumsily and rose to take off after her. Gretchen was outside getting into a cab.
“Gretchen!” He called after her, tripping down the steps. “Gretch…” He stood in the empty street, watching the cab disappear. “She doesn’t have any money. She has no place to go,” he said sadly. “Thick and thin,” he whispered, his heart breaking.
“It’s like Buster said, ‘Don’t chase after women or buses.’”
Telly looked at Clutch. “You did this. I hate you.”
“Hate’s a strong word, son.”
“Well, I feel strongly that I hate you. Leave me alone.” Telly stomped up the steps to return dejectedly back to his apartment.
“There’s two ways to look at this.”
Telly jumped, realizing he was not alone. “I told you to leave.”
“We could do this the hard way,
or the easy way,” Clutch told him.
“Or no way. I’m finished. The only person I care about is not here. I’m going to get a job.”
“She’s gone, buddy. You don’t have to do that anymore.”
Telly didn’t answer. He grabbed his glasses, scooped up a few bucks from the pile on the table, abandoned the rest, and slammed the door, Clutch hot on his heels. Neither of them noticed that the door jammed, bounced, and swung wide open, revealing the pile of cash in his living room to anyone passing by.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Telly called Gretchen’s number six times, and each time it went straight to voice mail.
His hands shoved into his pockets, he walked the streets for hours, ending up three miles away at Gretchen’s friend and coworker, Chrissy’s, place. The street grew busy and school buses made their stops, but Telly stood in the lee of the house waiting for the morning to progress before he knocked on the door. His stomach rumbled, but he refused to go to the McDonald’s around the corner for fear of missing an opportunity to see if Gretchen was there.
“She’s not there,” a voice said from his left, startling him.
Telly glanced sideways to see Clutch sitting on the curb next to him. “I told you to leave me alone.”
Clutch shook his head. “Can’t.” He threw a coin in the air, causing Telly to look up. The coin pulled at Telly’s chest, twisting what was left of his heart. “We’re connected, you and me. I can’t leave, and now you can’t either. We have a job to do.”
“Well,” Telly said leaning backward against a street sign, “you can’t make me.”
“I don’t have to.”
* * *
Chrissy emerged from her home, wrapping a robe around her trim figure.
“Well, hello mama…” Clutch drawled.
“Telly, what are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Is Gretchen in there with you?”
“Gretchen? No, Telly, she’s not. Why?” Crissy said nastily.
“Told you,” Clutch said with satisfaction.
“Shut up,” Telly told him.
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