FOLD
JESSE BRADLEY
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Mathias looked at the cards in his hand: three 4s (two Clubs, a Spade), an Ace of Hearts and a King of Spades, then peeked at Joseph, also looking at his hand.
“I’m all in.” Mathais pushed all of his chips into the pot.
“Call,” Joseph shoved all his chips into the pot, then crushed Mathias’s three-of-a-kind with a full house (three sevens [Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs] and a pair of Queens [Hearts, Spades]). “It looks like you’re out of the game.”
“God damn…” The petrification started with his mouth, pouring out to his face, coating his shirt, suspenders, pants, and boots until he sat in the chair statuesque.
The chair legs groaned as Daniel pushed himself away from the poker table. “What the fuck is going on here? What kind of fuckin’ game is this?” Henry buried his face in his hands, smudging his spectacles with clammy palms. Frank took a flask out of the inner pocket of his worn gray duster.
“This is gonna be a long night,” Frank said after a pull.
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Henry Wormwood stood next to a freshly covered grave, alone. He baked in his black bowler hat and sack suit, face swollen from grief.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” The sentence sneaked through Henry’s sobs, into the back of his neck. Henry turned around to see a figure, cloaked and hooded in white.
“Who…are…you?” The figure handed Henry a handkerchief. Henry cleaned his spectacles, blew his nose.
“What are you willing to do to get this person back?”
“I can’t get them back. No one can do that.”
“What if I can?”
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“I’m done with this! Deal me the fuck out!” Daniel yelled. He took five steps away from the poker table before a lightning bolt struck where he would have taken the sixth step.
Only one will be allowed to leave this table.
Frank drew the sawed-off double barreled shotgun out of his duster. “Who’s there?” The cards in Joseph’s hands began humming, the pitch growing louder. Frank clutched his head, Daniel his stomach, Henry’s glasses cracked.
“Joseph, what did you just do?” Frank’s shotgun pointed at Joseph’s chest.
“Nothin’, I swear to God, nothin’”.
“Frank, he’s right.” Henry said, putting his hand on Frank’s left shoulder. “It’s this game. Strange things have happened at the end of each hand. There’s something about those cards.”
“When I lost my showdown against Frank, I couldn’t see out of my right eye for a coupla hands,” Daniel said.
“Mathais said he lost that limp he had after winning a hand,” Joseph said. “But why did he die?”
“How did we get the chips?” Henry rubbed his chin, “We didn’t get an equal amount either. Some got more some got less.” Henry looked at the other men. Frank was in his mid-40s, a scar running like a tear beneath his left eye. You couldn’t tell Joseph had wrinkles until he smiled. Daniel’s cheeks looked like they were slapped by the doctor after birth.
Only one will be allowed to leave this table.
Joseph’s back was to the wall. Four bad hands, two bluffs later, he was down to his last few chips. In the showdown against Henry, his two pair (Aces [Hearts, Diamonds], 10s [Spades, Diamonds]) lost to a straight (5, 6, 7 [Spades], 8 [Diamonds], 9 [Hearts]). Joseph’s last pose was his hands clasped in prayer. Frank couldn’t move his left arm.
Daniel was ahead in the chip count, Henry second, Frank third, slowly losing more and more chips after each round.
“Hot damn, I’m gonna win this whole thing,” Daniel yelled. “I’m gonna get cleared of the charges and go home to my wife.”
“Wha…are…you…talkin’…about,” Henry slurred. The last hand he lost paralyzed the left side of his body.
“I was told if I won then what I did on the train is gonna go away. I’ll get to go back to my family, my little girl. You are almost done, old man. Then it’s just between me and the yellow belly. I’m gonna beat the Dutch, just you wait.”
After his final showdown, the shotgun dropped out of Frank’s hand before he had a chance to fire at Daniel. His arm stayed outstretched. Henry picked the gun off the floor and opened the barrels.
“Daniel, I think Frank was the man they called Eureka in the papers a while back.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“The barrels are full of pyrite, ‘Fool’s Gold’. He was the scourge of the Union army. Killed 120 men before going into hiding after the war was over. Wasn’t even a solider, just a vigilante. Before he shot someone, he yelled “Eureka”, according to the papers.”
“That’s horseshit, Frank, horseshit. Now, sit down and let’s get this finished. I gotta a wife and a little girl waiting for me.”
After the next few hands, Henry’s glasses looked brand new, Daniel coughed and wheezed every so often. The chip count on both sides looked fairly even. Daniel’s last hand was a Jack-high flush (Diamonds). Henry shuffled and dealt. Daniel looked at his hand and smiled.
“I’m goin’ all in.”
“Are you sure you want to do that, Daniel?”
“Hell yeah, I am. I won with a flush last hand. Diamonds. Every time one of us won with lots of Diamonds in their hand, somethin’ mighty good happened. I’ve got a good feelin ’ about this hand.”
Henry pushed all of his chips in the middle of the table. “Call.”
“Read ‘em and weep, a straight, Queen high.” After Daniel saw Henry’s hand, he froze, mouth puckered in ‘no’.
Well done. The figure cloaked and hooded and white walked toward Henry. You have one more hand to play. The green felt table cloth from the poker table disappeared, revealing a pentacle carved into the table top and a new stack of chips. Only one will be allowed to leave this table. The figure took off the hood, revealing slicked back black hair, dull brown eyes, a Roman nose, and a weak jawline.
“Hello, Henry. That was a nice funeral you did for me.”
“How did you…”
“A potion that simulates death. Two days after I died, my assistant dug me up and revived me. He was the one who gave you the last invitation to the game. You were the last ingredient.”
“What are you talking about?”
“To unleash the true apocalyptic power of the deck, I need the life force of five sinners of different degrees. Daniel was a thief, Joseph was a grifter, Mathais diddled little girls, Frank was a killer, and you laid with men.”
“But I thought you loved me, Benjamin.”
“You were just a pawn for a greater good.” There was a loud bang, then blood spilled from Henry’s ruptured back before collapsing. Daniel held the smoking shotgun.
“You fuckin’ Sodomite. I hope you burn in Hell for what you’ve done.” Daniel spit on Henry’s face.
“What have you done,” Benjamin yelled as he pointed at Daniel. His index finger shivered.
“What are you tryin’ to do, poke me to death?”
“No.” Benjamin thrust his arm again, his index finger strained. “No. You’ve broken the pact.” The poker table cracked. The ground beneath fissured, the broken table falling into the earth. Daniel aimed the shotgun Benjamin. It clicked hollowly.
“I’m glad I used both barrels on your friend. What you’ve got comin’ is gonna be far worse?”
“We’re going to the same place, you know. The Devil always gets his due when you cross him.”
“Yeah, well I’m ready to pay for my sins. I reckon you aren’t.” Daniel watched Benjamin fall before the ground gave beneath him. The floor righted itself, leaving only the deck of playing cards. A gray cloaked and hooded figure picked up the deck, placed it in an unremarkable tin, then put the tin in a pocket. The figure walked out of the building, never looking back.
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JESSE BRADLEY is an all star. In the writing community, people do not make Chuck Norris jokes. They make Jesse Bradley jokes. Except they aren’t jokes; they are real events and people do not find them funny. They listen with a mixture of fear and ultimate respect.
For instance, “Jesse Bradley decided to go to the ocean and wrestle a giant squid. He did, tamed it, and now harvests ink from the beast for his pens. The beast also rings his paper in from the front porch. He calls it the Kraken. Because it is. Not one of those pussy squids that doesn’t take the time out of their day to maim/sailors sailors and maim/murder their ships. No. A real motherfucking Kraken.” is not a joke. It happened.
Ring the bell…school’s in, sucka. And Jesse Bradley is your professor.
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