The Hand You're Dealt

by Paul Volponi

  “Thirty-five minutes by my watch, kid,” Abbott said, throwing away his cards. “I thought you just suffered from diarrhea of the mouth.”

  “I think he went home crying to his mama, ‘The big poker tournament’s so scary and nobody there likes me,’” said Snake Eyes. “Or maybe his daddy gave him a pep talk on gettin’ bullied by the big boys.”

  Everyone laughed and I just saw red.

  “My dad’s dead, so shut your damn mouth!” I exploded at him, with my heart pumping wild.

  “Okay. Okay. My bad, Huck,” Snake Eyes said, without any real feeling.

  “Yeah, watch out. Huck’s got a little fire in his belly tonight,” Jaws said low.

  I counted players around the room like somebody who’s really pissed off counts to ten, trying to calm down. There were sixteen left altogether—five at my table.

  The next two hours of poker were a push and pull, and I could feel a puddle of sweat on my head underneath that damn cap I was wearing. Then it happened. The other players threw their hands into the muck, and I was left head-to-head against Abbott. Every nerve in my body was tingling, and I tried hard to keep my breathing even. I’d caught a jack on the flop, and was sitting on another one in the hole. My leg was bouncing wild under the table till I locked it still.

  “Forty,” I said, trying to keep any emotion out of my voice.

  “Call,” said Abbott, shoving in a stack of chips the same size.

  A three of clubs came on the river.

  The numbers of the cards showing on the table were far enough apart that neither one of us had to worry about the other holding a straight.

  I pushed the shades flat against my face and said, “Another forty.”

  He tried to scare me off by raising.

  “It’ll cost you sixty more,” he said, spreading the chips across the table to make the bet look even bigger.

  Abbott had the same extra kick to his voice that he used at school, barking on kids in the hallway he didn’t know. So I figured he was feeling me out too, to see how hard he could shove.

  I took a long breath, and let it out slow for him to see. Then I threw my hands in the air, like I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, and said, “I’ll call.”

  I turned over my jacks, and they were higher than his pocket tens.

  “Why must I lose to this neophyte?” shouted Abbott, shooting up from his seat and walking off in circles. “This tyro! This novice! This beginner!”

  My stack got much stronger with that win, and so did I. And I noticed my voice getting deeper on its own, without me even thinking about it.

  Later Jaws busted Snake Eyes, and I loved it.

  Before he left, Snake Eyes took his glasses off, jamming them down into his shirt pocket. Without them, his eyes looked empty and too small for his fat face. Then he waddled out of the room like a penguin, cursing himself.

  And besides praying for Abbott to get beat, I was never so happy to see someone go bust.

  Players at the other two tables were calling “All in!” busting one another. Then Rooster and Buddha cracked those winners till they were the only two left out there and got moved to our table.

  “I see one snake left hungry, but this one’s got a full belly,” crowed Rooster, stuffing another wad of bills between the cobra fangs of his silver money clip.

  There were just six of us now, and except for the tournament directors, every other table and chair was empty.

  “This is the final table, gentlemen,” one of the directors announced. “We’ll play for almost another hour—one a.m. curfew. Then we’ll be back here tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock to crown a champion.”

  Winning Dad’s watch wasn’t some crazy dream anymore. I was sitting at the final table and had as good a shot as anybody at taking down Abbott.

  The music had quit from downstairs, and Father Dineros stuck his head inside the meeting hall for a few seconds.

  “Bless us all. I see it’s almost over,” he said. “Maybe with some divine intervention we can put this to bed tonight.”

  Everybody was sitting on huge stacks of red and white tournament chips, and I built mine up like a fort in front of me. Rooster was the chip leader now, with Abbott a close second. Buddha had more chips than me, too, but I was ahead of both Jaws and Stani.

  The more we played that night, the more the side bets started to slow down, and the black chips became less important. Stani pushed the hardest to keep betting for real, but the rest of them seemed more interested in winning the tournament.

  Abbott and Stani squared off in a hand, and I watched Abbott put the screws to him. He bet so much on the turn that Stani would have had to risk most of his stack to call. Then Abbott pushed a bunch of black chips in too.

  “Care to go fishin’ on the river?” Abbott asked him, smug.

  Stani was stuck on it for a while. Then he tossed his hand away and said, “I’m out.”

  Abbott turned his cards over quick, and everyone else, except for Stani, hooted.

  He’d bluffed Stani out with next to nothing.

  “I still needed a six or a jack on the river to beat that,” Stani said.

  Rooster shook his head at him, like Stani should have never got bullied out of that pot. That’s when Stani pulled a twenty from his pocket. He shoved it at the dealer and said, “Prove me right.”

  The dealer turned to Abbott for the okay, because he was the last one in against Stani.

  “Absolutely,” Abbott said, grinning.

  They call the card that never got dealt “the rabbit card.” That’s because you didn’t have the guts to see it in a game, but you want to go back and look now when it’s safe, like a scared rabbit.

  The dealer peeled off the jack of clubs, laying it faceup. Nobody said a word, but Stani slapped his thigh so hard it sounded like a clap of thunder. Then he bolted for the bathroom, missing the next few hands.

  “Your friend’s a real winner,” Jaws told Rooster.

  “Run rabbit run,” added Abbott.

  Soon I got on a streak, taking two pots in a row. I was feeling cocky, shuffling my chips around until Buddha schooled Jaws and me both, turning over a pair of aces in the hole.

  “This is my hand,” I’d bragged, holding queens, before Buddha showed those rockets.

  I didn’t move a muscle in my face, but my confidence had crashed hard.

  Inside my mind, the thoughts were flying a mile a minute, and I was struggling to stop my lips from moving along. Just put it away. Put it away like it never happened. Concentrate, Huck. Concentrate. Don’t get too full of yourself out here. They’re all snakes. I can’t let myself lose. I can’t. It means too much. To Mom. To Dad. To me. It’s too important. It’s too damn important. Stare every one of them down. Look at Abbott’s grin. Wipe it off him. Just wipe it off. I come too far to fall on my face. Settle in now. Settle in for the war. Huck lives on the river. This is everything. This is EVERYTHING to me!

  Then I laid my hands on top of my chip stack, frightened as anything on the inside that they’d start to get closer and closer to the table, till I finally went bust.

  It was my own fault. You’re supposed to read your opponent. Not the cards.

  It was the first hand all night that Buddha didn’t have that easy smile across his face. Jaws got blindsided by it, too, and was pissed.

  “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. It looks like some kind a bloated green Martian,” Jaws sniped at Buddha’s statue. “How much you want for it? I’ll buy it off you, so I can fly it out the window.”

  “That’s the man’s religion you’re talkin’ ’bout,” Rooster said in a serious voice.

  “No, it’s not. He even said so,” Jaws shot back.

  “Just a symbol—nothin’ more,” said Buddha, playing it down.

  Then Buddha winked at me and anted.

  On the final hand of the night Abbott and Stani squared off again.

  Stani scratched the sandpaper stubble on his face with a black chip. Then he sent
in everything he had after the flop, and Abbott called him before the words “all in” were even out of Stani’s mouth. But Abbott had more than twice as many chips and wouldn’t turn his cards over till Stani stood up.

  “All right! Let’s see ’em!” Stani growled, finally getting to his feet.

  Abbott had him buried and only a four could save Stani.

  “Stupid! Stupid! I’m so stupid!” cried Stani, slamming down his cards. “I don’t deserve a damn four!”

  The turn did nothing.

  “I don’t deserve one!” Stani cried. “I don’t wanna win like that!”

  But everybody knew Stani would take a four if it came.

  The river was empty for him too, and Stani flung a bunch of bills in Abbott’s direction.

  “Yeah. You lose with a lot of class,” jabbed Abbott.

  Thanks to Stani going bust, Abbott edged to the top of the heap. I was in fourth place behind Rooster and Buddha, just ahead of Jaws.

  The directors started cleaning up the meeting hall, putting our stacks into shoeboxes with our names on them.

  “Every time I push it, I get caught out there,” muttered Stani, with both hands shoved down into his pockets. “Every damn time.”

  “That’s poker,” Rooster told Stani, trying to calm him down. “And no, I can’t front you any more money.”

  I let them all go ahead and pile into the elevator. I was limping toward the stairs when Buddha stuck his arm between the closing doors and said, “Come on, Huck. There’s room for one more.”

  I didn’t want to insult Buddha, or have Abbott think I’d duck out on a second of holding my ground against him. So I stepped inside.

  That’s when Stani pulled that gun on us.

  The robbery played out like another hand of poker, only the stakes couldn’t get any higher.

  I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest. And I almost raised my arm to push the shades up higher on my nose, but I was afraid I’d set Stani off.

  Jaws and Buddha folded right away, handing over their wallets.

  And I never seen Jaws so tight-lipped.

  Rooster wouldn’t go quiet. He felt Stani out with that “Fuck old friends” line, hoping to get away with handing him that dummy wallet.

  But as uptight as Stani was, he didn’t bite. That’s when Rooster finally ditched his cards, giving over the money clip.

  Then Abbott stonewalled Stani.

  I don’t know if I would have had the guts to take Dad’s watch off Abbott’s dead body or not, because I knew those bullets wouldn’t really bounce off him.

  Then I saw Abbott flinch a hair as Stani’s arm shook. You could hardly notice it. I guess everybody else’s eyes were glued to that gun. But there was a ripple that started in Abbott’s stomach, quivering up through his chest and shoulders.

  He really was human.

  It made me believe I could make Abbott flinch too.

  But that bastard was so damn convincing that Stani backed off. And if I didn’t hate Abbott’s miserable ass so much, I would have said he deserved an Oscar for the acting he did.

  If it wasn’t for Abbott, I guess I never would have stared down Stani.

  I would have folded like the rest of them.

  But I knew if I survived, I’d bring all that new juice with me to the final table.

  chapter ten

  I’D LEFT THAT ELEVATOR acting like Joe Cool. But on the inside I was shaking so bad from having that gun in my face I couldn’t even think about driving Father Dineros’s car and had to walk home.

  I counted the six dollars in my pocket—five singles, three quarters, two dimes, and a nickel. I could have been killed over chump change, and I didn’t know if I’d acted brave or was just some kind of idiot.

  Even Rooster gave over his fat wad of cash, and he knew Stani best. So maybe he really could have pulled that trigger.

  Either way, I was the same as Abbott, because neither one of us would bend to Stani. And knowing that helped make me sick to my stomach.

  Climbing my front steps, I saw the light from the TV through the living room window, so I knew Mom was still awake. Any of the kids who’d stopped by the diner after the dance could have mentioned me taking on Abbott in the tournament, and Cassidy would have talked to her about it for sure.

  “So how’d the big date with Audra go?” she said, hitting the mute on the remote as I walked in. “You two musta had a good time. It lasted long enough.”

  That’s when I knew I was safe. But I didn’t want to get buried under any more lies and tried to cut her off.

  “I’m just way too tired to talk,” I told her. “I gotta go to bed.”

  “Oh, come on. I wanna hear. I listened to everything when she wouldn’t give you the right time of day,” she pleaded. “Now where’d you take her after the dance, and why are you wearing sunglasses and the rest of that stuff? I hope you didn’t go to the dance like that.”

  “Can’t I have some privacy for once?” I snapped.

  Mom backed off, like maybe something went wrong.

  “Do you wanna talk about anything?” she asked in a cautious voice.

  “Just not tonight, okay?” I answered, heading up to my room. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  I knew she’d worry about me all night, but I couldn’t face up to the truth. Not yet. So I crawled into bed with my clothes on, shutting my eyes tight to everything.

  It was just him and me at the table. Only his stack of chips was three times the size of mine. The light was so dim I could barely make him out through my shades. I wanted to take them off, but I knew he’d be able to look into my eyes and read every move I made.

  The ticking from the watch was getting louder, echoing inside my ears. It felt like it was made of lead and weighed a ton, wrapped around my wrist.

  Dad didn’t recognize me in that disguise.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out.

  Then I saw the two aces I had in the hole and a spark shot through every inch of me. Dad looked me up and down before he shoved a huge stack forward. I reached for my chips, but they were gone, so I had to toss my hat and headphones into the pot.

  The flop came out three kings, and Dad pushed a mountain of chips into the center of the table. They were piled so high I lost sight of him for a second, till he stood up over them.

  My heartbeat and the ticking from the watch were exactly the same now. But I took it off anyway and bet it, too.

  An ace came on the turn.

  I swallowed hard and threw my shades onto the table.

  Then I tried to stand, only my legs wouldn’t work.

  I looked up and Abbott was laughing and laughing. I’d been sitting on his lap the whole time, like a dummy, with his hand up the back of my neck.

  “All in!” I barked at Dad in Abbott’s voice. “Huck owns the river! You know that!”

  Dad looked up from building a house of cards and said, “You’re not my Huck.”

  The fourth ace showed up on the river, and I knew I couldn’t lose.

  That’s when Dad turned over his two aces in the hole, collecting everything. I looked at my hole cards again, and they’d both turned to blanks.

  Dad took back the watch, and my heart felt like it stopped beating.

  Abbott was pitching a fit, waving a gun at me.

  “You gotta learn to accept losing,” said Dad, leaving the table. “It’s a big part of life.”

  Then Dad disappeared into the darkness, and I swear I saw Abbott pull the trigger. I closed my eyes and everything went pitch-black. When I opened them again Abbott was gone, and I was pointing that gun at myself.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Mom pounded on my bedroom door that morning.

  “Oh, Mr. Huck!” she hollered, with the sunlight stinging my eyes. “Get up right now, please!”

  Then Mom opened the door and peeked in, and once she saw I was dressed, she stepped inside.

  “You’ve got company in the living room,” she said, with a grill to chill acros
s her face. “And when they’re done asking you questions, I’m gonna have a few of my own. You can bet on it.”

  The clock read seven fifteen. Out my window I could see the flashing lights of the police car in our driveway, and Father Dineros’s Mercedes parked right behind.

  “Umm…I guess there were some things I shoulda told you ’bout last night,” I said.

  “No. There were things you shoulda told me about before that,” Mom answered, tightening the belt on her robe as she stormed back out.

  Then I walked out into the living room and Sheriff Connor said, “You’re the last one in this investigation we need to talk with.”

  “Thank God you’re all right,” said Father Dineros, who explained that Buddha and Jaws had called the cops on Stani.

  “We have signed complaints from those two. Rooster refused to cooperate. Says he’ll even up with his ‘good friend’ himself,” said Sheriff Connor. “And that Abbott just kept goin’ on in front of his wife ’bout how he was bulletproof.”

  “Bulletproof!” Mom screamed. “Was there a gun?”

  “I’m afraid there was,” answered Father Dineros. “And I’m thankful to see there are no holes in you, my boy.”

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “That lowlife’s got quite a criminal record,” Connor said. “Roland Stankaitis—wanted on warrants in California and Nevada. You got away lucky not givin’ over your money like that. He coulda killed you. Although I don’t know that anybody woulda moaned too much if he plugged the math teacher.”

  “I won’t have that, Sheriff,” scolded Father Dineros. “That’s a life you’re talking about.”

  Mom threw her arms around me tight.

  I guess the news about that gun shook her harder than anything.

  “I could have lost you over nothing,” she said, rocking me from side to side.

  But I could feel the heat inside her too, burning to get out. And I knew when the shock of hearing about Stani pointing a gun at me wore off, I was going to face the fire for all those lies I fed her.

  “I explained to your mother this morning that you’ve been playing in the tournament. And I mean playing. Not gambling,” Father Dineros said, like he was confessing for the both of us. “Again, I apologize, Mrs. Porter. I shouldn’t have trusted he was going to tell you. Clearly I overstepped myself.”