Dead Man's Hand

by Steven Meehan

  When Constantine flipped his hand he revealed the seven and deuce of hearts. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, all he had was a flush. He only just caught it, why oh why had he been betting so aggressively when all he had was a flush draw? Granted he did manage to catch it on the last card, but he should have realized that there were better hands available. David flashed a smirk as he revealed his full house that, for the moment, reigned supreme. But as that old saying goes, “one good turn deserves another.” And when Thomas flipped his cards to reveal the other two aces, David looked absolutely crushed. Unfortunately for him, Bella still needed to show her hand and she just happened to be holding the queen and ten of hearts. She had been a single ace away from getting the best hand in the game, but David has stolen the ace of hearts away from her. She just had to settle for playing a king high straight flush.

  This devastated the three fools who had followed her into the hand. As Dempsey’s security escorted them from the table I couldn’t help but think about what I had just seen. In fact, the whole room had gone silent, I was sure that everyone could hear her collect her winnings. Once she had her winnings the dealer went on and the three who played it safe were removed over the next five hands. In the end it really didn’t matter, six people were already gone from the final table. How in the world had that happened? I had witnessed it myself, but I still couldn’t believe it. I had never seen that many players drop from any table that fast. Now I had to deal with the real cream of this crop; Tyson, Patrick, and Bella.

  Looking from stack to stack, I wondered who the actual chip leader was. Of the four of us, Bella had been at the bottom, but with what she had just picked up, she had, more or less, leveled the playing field. I would have thought someone up in the arena would have been saying something about what had just happened, but instead silence reigned in the room. The dealer began to deal. He somehow managed to look at us all as he said to Bella, “You’re the small blind ma’am.”

  She quickly counted the required chips and tossed them into the center of the table and Tyson wasted no time following suit. Once the blinds were paid the dealer got us started. Unfortunately he wasn’t really helping me with a non-suited two and nine. But Patrick must have gotten some kind of help because he quickly paid the pot. As the chips fell from his hand I slid my pair of cards into the center, while Bella raised the pot two hundred thousand dollars. Tyson quickly followed my example and surrendered his hand, but Patrick decided to call Bella’s raise.

  With the flop we saw a pair of nines and a very lonely lady. Instead of pressing, Bella decided to check to Patrick, who was apparently willing to see the next card without paying for it. A two of spades was revealed and again Bella checked the opening bet to Patrick. This time he made a bet of four hundred thousand, which Bella immediately called. What could either of them have with what was in play?

  After the dealer revealed the four of diamonds Bella, for the third time, checked the bet to Patrick. His bet was enough to force Bella to go all in if she wanted to see what he had. She took a bit of time examining Patrick and her hand, but she must have thought she had seen something from him because she called the bet with a big smile on her face. A smile that only widened when she revealed her pair of aces. Two pair, with what was out there, wasn’t a bad hand, but when Patrick flipped his cards the smile was wiped away from Bella’s face. One of Patrick’s pocket cards was a nine, he had had trip nines right from the beginning.

  Looking at that single nine staring back up at her she could barely believe what had just happened. She looked like she was trying to think of something witty to say but all that came out of her mouth was, “Well don’t that just…” But words seemed to fail her as she stopped mid-sentence and let out a rather undignified harrumph. After taking a moment to calm herself with a series of deep breaths, she stood up. I could see the frustration hanging off her like a cloak and it took a moment for her to regain a mask of serenity, but then, that was probably due to the very smug look on Patrick’s face.

  Once again in complete control of herself, she turned to Patrick and said. “Well played, Patrick. I’d say best of luck but I’m sure you understand my preference that you lose.” She abruptly turned around to face me and before the pair of hired muscles could grab her she leaned down and wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered her farewell to me. “I hope you can teach him one hell of a lesson, Marcus. I really wish you the best of luck. On the bright side, you didn’t knock me out, so we can still be friends.”

  Looking up into her eyes I could see the playfulness that had so quickly captured my soul. “Thank you, Bella. I think I’m going to need it.” Without another word she collected her drink and made her way into the audience to watch the outcome of the game. I could tell she was hoping for me to take that smug man for all he was worth. I certainly hoped I was up for the challenge.

  Then there were three. With so few of us I started keeping hands that I would have otherwise dismissed, because, at this stage of the game, too few cards are put into play. Fortunately for me after a few more hands of nothing I was kissed by Lady Luck when the dealer gave me a pair of kings. I quickly raised Tyson’s two million dollar bet by another two million. Patrick chose to fold but Tyson decided to try and double up at my expense. If I called his new bet, I would risk all but a handful of my chips. But then, I did have a pair of kings, he would have to have a pair of aces to have the upper hand on me, and I had a very good feeling about this hand.

  I leaned back in my chair, looked over at Tyson and said, “You sure you want to do that Tyson?”

  “Yes, Marcus, I’m sure that I want to do this.” Tyson said with his lifeless eyes. “It’s about time I faced Patrick in the showdown.”

  “Careful, Tyson, you’re starting to show a little emotion.”

  The dig may not have been the most appropriate thing to say, since the slight hue of eagerness gave way to the second emotion I have seen on his face, irritation. “You are a good player Marcus, but you aren’t in the same league as Patrick or myself.”

  “Then again Tyson, you’re not in my league either.” Patrick chirped in.

  “We shall see who is better after I knock our friend out.” Tyson said coolly.

  How comfortable was I about this hand? I had to remember that I have never seen Tyson lose when he has gone all in. Granted I had only seen him reveal his hand a couple of times, mostly everyone else had backed down, having been unwilling to risk losing their stack. But then, if I won his stack I would be about even with Patrick, which would help. “Well, Tyson, you’re not going to get away with the bullying this time. I call.”

  No sooner were the words out of my mouth than Tyson flipped over his cards showing me the other pair of kings. He had the red kings. I flipped my pair and showed the kings of clubs and spades.

  “Unbelievable. The same hand!” Tyson exclaimed in a clipped voice.

  “Well it seems we shall probably live to fight another day.” I commented, not expecting an answer.

  Tyson and I looked over at the dealer and watched as he revealed the flop, the seven and queen of spades along with the five of diamonds. And just like that, I had a possible flush draw. It would take a miracle for me to get two more spades but I had the opportunity and that was amazing.

  “Well, Tyson, it seems this hand just got a bit more interesting.” Patrick said with a smile, he could have been a little less obvious with his apparent desire to play me rather than the living statue.

  “The odds still favor us to split the pot, Patrick.”

  “We’ll see what happens in a moment.” I said as I motioned for the dealer to reveal the next card, a ten of spades.

  “He only needs one more spade and you’re out my silent friend.” Patrick narrated.

  “The odds are not in his favor.”

  Please just give me one more spade. One more spade that is all that I need. Please just give me one more. I watched the dealer burn the last card for the hand and time seemed to slow down to
a crawl. I could probably have killed a thousand flies if they had happened to fly in front of me right then. I watched as he pulled the last card off of the pile and I waited for it to be flipped over. All I needed was a spade and it would be me and Patrick in the showdown.

  I could almost see the face of the card. Was it black? Hurry up and move faster, you stupid dealer, move faster! As if on command, time seemed to speed back up and the ace of spades was staring up at us all. I had made my flush! I had beat Tyson! I looked over to Patrick and promised myself right then and there that I would do the same to Patrick.

  “Congratulations, on the pure luck Marcus.” Tyson said with what seemed to be petulance, or would be if it had come out of anyone else’s mouth. But when I looked over, he had already been collected by Dempsey’s minions.

  I shifted my gaze back to Patrick and smiled my warmest smile, “And then there were two.”

  “May the best man, win.”

  Chapter 12

  Looking across the table I stared into Patrick’s eyes. After deftly maneuvering my way through this tournament I had managed to make it to the final showdown, with skill and a fair amount of luck. So how had I managed to lock myself into this hand? It was without question the worst hand that I had played all day. My pocket cards were the eight of clubs and the nine of diamonds. Even with this being heads up, why on earth had I decided to pay for the flop with this? It made no sense whatsoever. I shook my head when I couldn’t stop the feeling of disgust from bubbling up to the surface. I had the flush draw, but so did Patrick, and that would beat the straight draw that I held thereby making it mostly useless. There were better hands to have waited for. For the first time today I was in a foul mood because I was staring at almost sure defeat.

  I looked across the table and saw Patrick staring right at me, his eyes laughing at my discomfort. He was obviously studying me, which I couldn’t quite understand as he was clearly sitting on the winning hand. I could fold now, but as invested as I had allowed myself to become, this hand was my tournament. I might be able to go one or two more hands if I was very lucky. Or I could play it out to the end and show everyone just how foolish I had been chasing down a hand that simply wouldn’t come. Or I could… no that was not an option. I would not change one of my cards to get out of this.

  With my only two options laid before me, I started to weigh them again. But, with my stubborn refusal to lose staring right back at me I could feel the mental pressure threatening to snap me in two like a twig. Matt had been right, neither of those options were acceptable to me. What had happened? I had been doing so well too. Now I was suddenly quite aware of the knot that had formed in the pit of my stomach, and it was quickly becoming painful. I stopped trying to think about my situation and instead started to work the knot out, I tried at any rate.

  As I was mentally trying to relax I caught sight of Bella up in the stands. She had only added fuel to my desire to win, after Patrick had managed to eliminate her. Her plea to deny Patrick the satisfaction of winning was perfect, since that was my plan. Granted the tables had been running with me and I hadn’t thought much about making her that promise at the time. But now that my luck had dried up and my back was against the wall I was feeling pretty foolish for making it. Looking up at her now I could tell that something was wrong. She wasn’t watching the game, she was studying something else.

  We had only talked for a short while before the onset of this tournament, but I felt like I had gotten to know the real her. Since she had joined my table, I saw a new persona that, while not entirely different, was just different enough to confuse those who didn’t know her. She loved hold’em. I mean, she had a passion for the game that I was certain extended to watching it unfold before her. Besides, I figured she had been studying my game as well in the hope of beating me next year. But now, instead of studying me or Patrick, she was looking at something else. Following her gaze as best as I could I realized that she was looking at someone else.

  But who was it? I needed to know what was distracting her, if only to distract myself from the mess I was in. So in the guise of stretching my neck I managed to find whom she was staring at, it was her uncle. Why would she be staring at her uncle? She didn’t like him very much. But then, why was her uncle down here, instead of up with the elite? Was that why she was staring down at him? Or was it because of the man he was talking with? And based on how the man with Dempsey looked, he wasn’t one of the elite but more probably one of his lieutenants. This far away, without any of my tools, I had absolutely no clue what they were talking about, and frankly I couldn’t hold the stretch much longer, not if I wanted to avoid my own set of stares.

  As I returned my attention to the hand in front of me I was still able to see her out of the corner of my eye and I thought I saw confusion on her face. With the slightest movement of my head I managed to get her back in my line of sight, more or less. Even from this distance, now that I could see her more clearly, I was certain she was confused about something. It was the same look that I had seen earlier when her uncle had called for the break. I noticed again that she didn’t wear confusion well, it was the only emotion that I had seen that could sour her otherwise flawless face.

  But her face wasn’t the issue here. The problem was that today I had been following my instincts, it’s how I had managed to get myself this far. Up to this point, I would have said I would be foolish to question them. Unfortunately, my instincts were what got me in this mess of a hand in the first place. To be fair I had caught flushes on the last card at least five different times throughout the tournament, including just a few hands earlier. But now, the time when it mattered most; the river swept me under its surface and lady luck, my constant companion for most of this run, was no longer there to grab my outstretched hand.

  Since I was as invested in this hand as I was, even if I were to fold, Patrick would simply bully me into second place. My day came down to this unfortunate and unmatched pair of cards and they were unable to support my weight this time. Unless I did something drastic this was going to be the end of the night for me, and I doubted that my exit would be any more elegant than Bella’s had been.

  Hoping to see something different I looked, once again, at the community cards. Nothing had changed. Laying in front of me were the ace, six, and nine of clubs paired with the ace of diamonds and the eight of spades. They sat there mocking me as I studied them, and I seriously thought about making a change to one of my cards. If only I had been dealt an ace in place of one of my cards I would have had another full house, which would give me the best chance of winning. With that hand the only thing that could beat my hand would be a better full house or a straight flush. The odds for a straight flush were long, and I just had a feeling he wasn’t holding a full house.

  The dealer looked squarely at me and with a determined voice he prompted, “Sir, the bet is to you.”

  In that moment I made a decision to do something incredibly stupid, not to mention something I had decided I absolutely wouldn’t do. I decided to chance everything. There was simply no way I was going to let Patrick walk out of this building having won the tournament. “I’ll call.” I pushed my pile of chips towards the center of the table and asked. “What do you have?”

  With a wicked grin splitting his face Patrick turned over both of his cards and revealed the queen and ten of clubs. As I sat there studying his flush, I could see Patrick’s mocking smile. With my index and middle fingers of my right hand resting on my cards, I began tapping them for a moment before I drew the bottom card. I showed the crowd my eight of clubs and with that Patrick’s smile began to crack.

  I quickly formed an image of the ace of spades in my mind and while retaining that image, I let my fingers rest on the back of my nine of hearts. I took in a deep breath and began to quickly collect the image and poured body heat into my solitary card and, through sheer force of will, I powered the card’s transformation into the ace of spades. I poured just enough heat into the transformation to ensure t
hat the card would retain its new identity for just about half an hour.

  “Sir if you please, show us your last card.” The now sour-faced dealer ordered.

  Well if nothing else I was giving these people a wonderful show. But since I really didn’t want to annoy the dealer any more than I already had, I firmly took hold of the corner of my last card. Ensuring a tight grip I closed my eyes and flipped the card over, laying it on top of my other card. I was hoping for a perfectly complete transformation. And judging by the reaction of both Patrick and the crowd I knew I had won the tournament.

  Opening my eyes I first looked down at the table and saw a perfectly formed ace of spades staring up at me. Then I shifted my gaze so as to see that Patrick had slumped down into his chair, acknowledging his defeat. The dealer shifted the pair of aces and the eight away from him ever so slightly as he announced to everyone. “Aces over eights, Marcus wins the hand and the tournament.”

  Forcing down my uneasiness over changing my original card, I looked across the table and, with a straight face and calm voice, broke the silence. “You’re a good player Patrick and you had quite the good run.” Thinking back to his defeat of Bella, my mouth couldn’t help but to throw one last dig at the man. “By the way I’m sorry I let you twist in the wind for so long.”

  Instead of snapping back at me, which would have been understandable, Patrick simply got up, walked over, and offered me his hand. In a voice that belied the venom in his eyes, he spoke as I accepted his hand. “I could have sworn you didn’t have that kind of hand. I was certain that I had an excellent read on you.” He paused to take in a deeper breath, “But I guess I was wrong. Congratulations.” With that Patrick pulled his hand out of mine and walked towards the bar, no doubt hoping to drown his sorrows in something strong.