by Gene Denham
Blackjack
By Gene Denham
Copyright 2013 Gene Denham
Cover Image : “joker_card_2”
https://www.freeimages.co.uk/
License Notes
November 1991
Phillip nonchalantly wiped the sweat from his hands as he watched her approaching. Why am I nervous? Surely, she'll say yes. He straightened his back, puffed out his chest, and stepped in front of the portly girl. Ignoring the acne and unkempt hair, he looked through her thick glasses and into her eyes.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Since you're the president of the SciFi/Fantasy Club, I thought you'd be interested in seeing Highlander 2 this weekend,” answered Phillip.
“I am.”
“Would you like to go with me?” Phillip asked.
She burst out laughing. “Like that would ever happen.”
“I... I'm sorry.” Phillip shrank back and let her enter the classroom.
A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The muscular boy grinned at him. “Did you strike out again, Phyllis?” Other students snickered. “Maybe you should stick to your grandma. Now, outta my way, loser.”
Phillip backed up against the wall. He waited until all his classmates went past before entering the room. Taking his seat, he prayed for time to speed up. Instead things came to a crawl when Mr. Jensen passed out the tests. Phillip stared at the red fifty-nine at the top of the paper. He sat in silence, stewing in his own despair for the remainder of the period.
The bell rang promptly at 3:15. Phillip stood up to leave when he heard his name.
“Mr. Boyd,” said the teacher. “Can I have a moment of your time?”
Phillip shuffled to the front of the room. “Yes, sir.”
“If you want to go to college you need to graduate,” Mr. Jensen said. “In order to graduate you need to pass this government class.”
“I can't afford college.”
“Maybe you could afford it if you had a scholarship. Of course that would require good grades.” Jensen sat on the corner of his desk. “What are your plans for after school?”
Phillip shrugged. “Trade school?”
“What was your grade in shop?”
“D.”
Jensen sighed. “What's your backup plan?”
“I could always join the military.”
“They don't take asthmatics, Phillip. Even fast food joints will want a high school diploma. I suggest you hit the books.”
“Yes, sir.” Phillip turned and left. He managed to hold back the tears until he got home.
*****
The lone arc-shaped table stood in the middle of the room. A strong overhead light illuminated it, while the rest of the room was pitch black. It reminded Phillip of an island. He cautiously approached and sat in the chair on the outside arc. Across from him sat a beautiful red haired woman with eyes of green. Phillip forced a smile as he read her name tag. “Luci”.
She stroked the green felt table top. “So, you wish to play blackjack?”
“Maybe,” answered Phillip.
“Maybe?” Luci laughed. “Why else would you be here?”
“I'm just not sure if...”
“Stop. No whining. I don't like whiners. You understand the rules?” Luci asked.
“Yes.”
“And the stakes?”
“Yes,” answered Phillip.
“Then what do you have to lose?” asked Luci.
“Everything,” whispered Phillip.
Luci raised an eyebrow. “No girl. No job. No money. No grades. No chance of a future. Nothing. You have nothing to lose.”
“I still don't know,” Phillip protested.
Luci smiled. “Tell you what. What if I let you play a hand for free?”
“Free?”
“If you win, you collect. If you lose, nothing. You could just walk out and go home. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good,” answered Phillip. “Deal.”
Luci pulled a card out of the shoe and placed it face up in front of Phillip. She placed the next card face down in front of her. The next two went face up, one in front of each of them. She smiled. “You have fourteen. Dealer has a nine showing. What do you want to do?”
Phillip swallowed. “Hit me.”
Luci turned up a card in front of him. “Six-of-clubs giving you twenty. Would you like to stand?”
Phillip nodded.
Luci flipped her down card over. “Dealer has sixteen and must take a hit. A ten. Dealer busts. You win.”
*****
Phillip tried to hide his trembling. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Jensen?”
The teacher opened up a folder. “I graded your term paper last night.”
“Oh.”
“It was one of the best papers I've ever read. You got a hundred.”
“Thank you,” said Phillip.
“I'm not done.” Jensen folded his arms. “This shows me you can pass school. I just don't understand why you haven't done this before.”
Phillip shrugged.
“I want to help you. If you want to go anywhere in life you need to go to college. There's a foundation that awards scholarship money based on an essay about the American legal system. With your permission, I'd like to submit this paper on your behalf.”
“Yes,” answered Phillip. “Definitely. Thank you.” I win.
*****
March 1992
“I knew you would be back,” Luci cooed. “You understand that you only get one free hand? If you choose to play now, it's for real.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand.”
“Shall I deal?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Luci dealt out the cards and grinned. “You've got a blackjack. Congratulations!”
*****
The Mercedes pulled to a stop and Phillip got into the passenger seat. He leaned over and gave Jessica a quick kiss. Her perfume was almost as intoxicating as her beauty. I'm actually dating the head cheerleader!
Putting the car into drive she asked, “Where to, babe?”
“I feel like celebrating,” answered Phillip.
“My parents are out of town,” offered Jessica.
He laughed. “Maybe later, after dinner.”
“A dinner celebration? How about Red Lobster? My treat.”
“Sounds good.”
“What's the occasion?” asked Jessica.
“I got my acceptance letter from State,” he answered.
“That's great! Wait, I thought your grades were iffy?”
“Yes, but with a 1600 on the SAT, they didn't care,” he explained.
“Are you going to be able to afford it?” she asked.
“I have a scholarship that covers everything.”
“Cool! Let's celebrate then.”
Phillip smiled. Life is good.
*****
October 1995
The queen-of-diamonds sat on top of a face down card in front of the dealer. Phillip looked down at his own cards. He only had thirteen. He gently tapped the table. Luci dealt him the six-of-hearts.
“I'll stay,” he said.
Luci turned her down card over. “Dealer has seventeen. You win.”
Phillip sighed with relief.
*****
Louie, Louie blasted, shaking the walls. One of the pledges fought his way through the crowd with two girls in tow. He stopped in front of Phillip.
“Ladies,” the pledge began, “let me introduce you to our president. This is Phillip Boyd.”
“Hi,” the women said in unison.
Phillip smiled. Damn kiss-up. They are beautiful, so he'll get brownie points. “How are
you ladies doing? Having fun?”
“Not doing too bad,” one of the women responded. “How about yourself?”
“Me? Excellent,” said Phillip.
“I'm Sarah. This is Ann.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Phillip said. “Are you ladies with anyone?”
“I have a boyfriend,” replied Ann.
Sarah blushed.
“You?” asked Phillip.
Ann punched her friend in the arm.
“I just got out of a relationship,” answered Sarah. “Not looking for anything at the moment.”
Phillip nodded. “Then I shall keep the sharks at bay for you.”
Sarah smiled and raised her glass.
*****
March 1996
The man cleared his throat and looked at Phillip. “You have a very impressive transcript, Mr. Boyd. Perfect score on your LSAT. Writer for your school paper. President of your fraternity. Member of your student association. Four-point-o grade point average.”
“Thank you,” said Phillip.
“I am also impressed with your interview answers.” The man closed the folder. “I do not see any issues. This law school will be glad to accept you.”
Phillip stood and shook the man's hand.
*****
“Dealer busts,” said Luci. “You win again.”
*****
October 1998
Everyone stopped talking, put their forks down, and turned their attention to Roger. He stopped clinking the butter knife against the wine glass and stood. Raising his glass, he spoke.
“Congratulations,” he said, “to all of us on our internships. Of course we do have an overachiever in our midst. So, here's to Phillip, the newest intern at Phips and Stoughten.”
“To Phillip,” the crowd echoed.
Phillip raised his hands. “Please. It's just another law firm.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Roger. “They're only the most prestigious law firm in the city. Stop being modest. Enjoy the attention. You deserve it, buddy.”
Phillip raised his glass in gratitude.
*****
Smiling, Phillip said, “Stay.”
Luci turned over her down card. “Dealer has nine.” She put another card on the table. “A three. Dealer has twelve. Next card is a seven. Dealer has nineteen. You have twenty. You win again.”
Phillip grinned.
*****
July 2001
“Ladies and gentlemen, you have heard a lot of hearsay. The prosecution has tried to convince you that Mr. Falzone is a criminal. Really?” Phillip grinned. “They have produced no reliable evidence or testimony. It is true that Mr. Falzone's father was a thief, but are we to be blamed for our parent's mistakes? I hope not. My client is a humble business owner. Yes, some of his employees make money on the side by engaging in questionable activities, but can you really hold Mr. Falzone accountable? How many people are on his payroll? Some are bound to be bad. Is that my client's fault?”
Phillip slowly looked at each of the jury members. “Sadly, this is a case of old fashioned bigotry. The DA doesn't like Mr. Falzone because he is rich and is of Sicilian descent. Are all Sicilians criminals? No! My client is an honest entrepreneur. His only crime is operating a tasty restaurant and a chain of successful dry cleaners. I don't have to tell you what to do. You will do the right thing. Thank you.”
Phillip sat down and listened to the judge give the jury instructions. After they left to deliberate, Phillip looked back at his bosses. Mr. Stoughten stood against the railing and motioned for Phillip to approach. The elder attorney then led them into the hallway. Once they found a quiet nook, Mr. Stoughten turned to the young lawyer.
“I hope you know what you're doing,” Stoughten whispered. “That was a risky move, putting our client on the stand.”
Phillip nodded. “I think he handled himself.”
“The jury better agree with you.”
“He had credibility and charm,” said Phillip. “Trust me, sir. I won't let you down. We've got this.”
“We better,” Stoughten warned. “This means a lot to the firm.”
“I'm aware of how much is at stake.”
“Are you? It isn't the ridiculous amount he's paying us. There's more.”
“Oh?” Phillip raised an eyebrow.
Stoughten looked around, verifying their privacy. Then he leaned in close. “Mr. Falzone is a businessman. He has contacts. Lots of them. Contacts that could be useful to a man of means.”
“I understand,” replied Phillip. “Don't worry. The verdict will be in our favor.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I'm lucky. I even got a blackjack last night.”
Stoughten's face transformed into a scowl. “Last night? You were gambling last night? You should have been preparing your case.”
“I did prepare. It was just a quick game with a friend,” Phillip explained. “It helped me relax so I could focus.”
The older man grunted. “You better be right.”
They reentered the courtroom and Phillip took his seat next to his client. Twenty minutes later the jury delivered their verdict. Not guilty.
*****
April 2005
The next card up was the jack-of-spades giving the dealer twenty-two. Luci grinned. “It would seem that your luck is still holding.”
Phillip struggled to control his laughter. “This is great. I feel unbeatable. Let's keep playing.”
Luci curtseyed and dealt the next hand.
*****
Phillip watched as the man changed the sign on the door. 'Made it, Ma! Top of the world!' He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and smiled at Carol.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
“Powerful,” answered Phillip.
Carol nodded. “Did you get Stoughten's retirement gift yet?”
“A new set of clubs.”
“Nice,” replied Carol. She looked at the sign. “Phips and Boyd. Has a nice ring to it. Congrats.”
She turned and headed for her office. Phillip stood there wondering if this was what kings felt like.
*****
November 2010
Phillip rubbed his chin and stared at the cards. Sixteen. Damn. Dealer has a five showing. There are only five cards that can help me, but eight that can screw me.
“Well?” asked Luci. “What's it going to be? Hit or stand?”
Phillip's mouth went dry. “Hit me,” he said weakly.
“Sure about that?”
Phillip nodded.
Luci dealt the next card. “A three. You now have nineteen. What do you want to do?”
“Stand.” Duh.
She flipped her down card over. “Dealer has fifteen. Next card is a king. Dealer busts.”
“Thank God,” sighed Phillip.
Luci shook her head as she swept up the dead cards.
*****
Everyone stood silently watching the televisions as the election results came in. The anchor read the numbers they were waiting for and the room erupted in celebration. People patted Phillip on the back and shook his hand. Each of them smiled as they said, “Congratulations, your honor!”
*****
November 2012
“Twenty! I'll stand.” Phillip leaned back and folded his arms confidently.
Luci revealed the card beneath the seven. “Dealer has ten. Dealer takes a card. Oh, look. An ace. Twenty-one. You lose, Phillip. You lose.”
“No! No, this isn't possible.”
“Please,” said Luci. “You had to know that your luck wouldn't last forever.”
Sweat streamed down Phillip's face. “Please. Give me another chance.”
Luci shook her head. “You know the rules.”
“Yes, but...” Phillip sighed. “Damn!”
*****
The doors closed and the elevator started its descent. It bounc
ed. Phillip closed his eyes and waited. The elevator came to a gentle stop. Phillip heard the doors open. Sighing with relief, he opened his eyes and stepped out.
Phillip made his way to the parking lot and got into his Porsche. He intently watched the other cars as he drove to the restaurant. He kept expecting someone to cut him off. Relief washed over him when he arrived without incident.
The senator was waiting for him at the bar. When he saw Phillip come in, he handed him a martini.
“Long day?” the senator asked.
“Aren't they all?” Phillip countered.
Someone cleared his throat.
Phillip turned and found a familiar face staring at him in anger. “Mr. Falzone?”
“You got some nerve, judge,” said Falzone. You send my boy to prison for ten years. Then you waltz into my restaurant to celebrate.”
Phillip swallowed. “I didn't realize this was one of yours.”
“Now you do.”
“Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't convict your son,” said Phillip.
Falzone squinted his eyes. “No, but you sentenced him. You could've given him a lighter sentence.”
“No, I couldn't,” Phillip argued. “Not with his record. Anything less would looked like I was showing favoritism.”
The senator raised his finger. “Perhaps I can...”
“Can you pardon my boy?” interrupted Falzone.
“No,” answered the senator.
“Then you can't help,” Falzone said. “Don't count on my vote.” He reached into his suit jacket.
Phillip felt his pulse surge. He sucked in air and stepped back.
“What's your problem?” Falzone asked as he pulled out a red business card. “Oh, you thought I was reaching for a gun? I don't even own a gun. No reason to. I'm a legit businessman. Here.” He held out the card.
The senator took the card.
Falzone continued. “Give that to the waiter. Your meals are on me. I hope the judge chokes on his. This is the last time I ever want to see you in my place. Understand?”
Phillip watched the angry man walk away. He looked at his dinner companion and forced a smile. “Thank you for the drink. I'm going to skip dinner tonight.”
The senator nodded. “We still need to talk about you running for senate in twenty-fourteen.”
“Let me think about it,” said Phillip.
They shook hands and Phillip left. When he got home, Phillip poured himself a bourbon. He thought it would relax him, but he was wrong. It took another six to accomplish that task. He went to sleep wondering if he would wake up in the morning.
