A Child Lost in the Shuffle

The Silver Serpent is far from the glitz and glamour of a typical casino and that’s precisely what its patrons prefer. Stale beer and spilt cocktails stain the worn-out carpet, giving it a patina that is more grit than grandeur. Fluorescent lights flicker intermittently, casting a cold glow over the battered slot machines and chipped roulette wheels. Amongst the cacophony, nestled through the maze of dingy gambling tables, a Friday night poker game has ensnared the attention of every soul in the room. A ring of onlookers forms a human barricade around the players, their breath holds in anticipation of the drama to unfold, their attention a currency as valuable as the meagre sums of money that changes hands with each shuffle of cards.

An enigmatic figure with an unnerving calm slides into the spare seat across from me. Her gaze slicing through the thick cigar smoke. Dark brown hair, emerald eyes like my own and a knowing smirk. Familiar – but from where?

A low voice comes from the dealer: “Cadoc Lukes. Back at it again, eh? Never gets old, watching you lose day after day.” The words sting, echoes of a similar taunt from a time when I had more to lose than just my pride, just the scraps of my money. The allure of the Silver Serpent, its siren call of thrill and chance, had been too potent to resist.

The woman watches me as the cards are dealt.

She confidently looks at her hand, pushes an intimidating pile of chips into the centre.  

“Didn’t expect a rose among thorns tonight,” I hiss, returning her stare. My snake-green eyes narrowing.

“Expect the unexpected,” she shoots back, breaking her stare and turning instead to assess the other players. Her eyes carry burden as she flicks between each seat.

I sneer back at her. It’s clear she’s no good, with that pre-flop move. Amateur. How dare she flaunt her beginner's luck at the Silver Serpent.

“Who are you?” I stare her down. The nerve.

She hesitates. Disappointed almost. “Hailee, but you can call me Hails.”

She pulls out her words slowly, each more pronounced then the next. Her eyes fixate on me, studying my every move.

It is my turn again as the flop comes out. 3 of spades. 4 of spades. 8 of spades. 

Straight flush opportunity. I glance at the familiar faces seated around the worn-down table. I know most of them. Orion, with his dark brown hair and olive skin, comes once a week. Lili’s terrible - she only comes because her father owns the place. She’s rich. Her inky brunette hair, and dark hazel eyes glittering as usual in the dim lighting, framing her porcelain skin perfectly. And Phoenix, right at the edge of the table, exudes confidence. But even now, looks a little scared. Her air of quiet intensity, gone.

One face is new. Hailee - Hails. Familiar, but never seen before here.

Shoot, I got distracted by my own thoughts. I should take my turn.

I glance at my cards once more. A frown rises upon my opponents’ faces. 

A sigh escapes my lips as I fold. I can’t afford losing to a straight flush.

Hails, across from me, snickers, “I’ve heard terrible things about you, Lukes. Not a reality, I’d hoped. But I guess I was wrong.”

Her tone is indecipherable. Is she aiming to win or lose?

Eyes around the table dart and lock, each glance a subtle dance of strategy and scrutiny. Faces become borders, shutting off emotion that might hint the flicker of hope, doubt. Nothing but steel determination.

I can feel the shadows behind me. Engulfing my pride, my purpose, my prominence. The audience bites their tongues. I can’t do this anymore. Hails’ stares slice me in half. The turn comes out. Ace of hearts. 

A look of triumph comes from Hails. Everyone around her folds. Until it comes to her. She wins before the river comes out; she doesn’t have to reveal her cards, but she does. 

Not a flush. Pocket Aces.

A gasp acquires every player’s lips. Including mine. She’s fooled us.

“What's the matter Lukes, cat got your tongue?” She says, elegantly. Still her eyes are focused on me.

Hails leads by a mile. More than half of the table leaves. It’s late. They’re just scared.

“It’s just you and me,” Hails laughs. “Get up and leave right now. Nothing changes.” Her voice has a sing-song tone to it. Patronising. Familiar.

“Come on Hails, you may be a world-renowned poker player, watched in awe by your fans. Or you might be a beginner off the streets. Praying that every round you win won’t be your last. But I know one thing. You will never beat me.”

“I already have.” She sniggers softly and looks down at the ripped up carpet.

I can’t argue with that. I’m the only one on this table who hasn’t quit while they’re ahead. The scorn, the shame, they’re old friends. But it doesn’t mean I’m not low. My hand drifts over the nearly empty space in front of me. Chips, like so many things in my life, has a way of disappearing.

The dealer deals the final cards.

I flip up the ends. My eyes scanning the letters and symbols. Trying to make sense of them.

Ace, 4. My unmasked expression meets Hails’ regretful eye. “You really don’t know me, do you?”

“What’s that ‘sposed to mean.” I slur my words. The world looks blurry around me.

Hails looks at me sadly, she turns her hand around. It shows an Ace and a 5. She wins, if she plays.….

She folds.

As she does her signature laugh, she grabs a piece of paper from her red dress pocket followed by a golden lined pen. She scribbles something down throws it my way and vanishes into the crowd before I can look up to gloat. 

I carefully open the piece of paper, it reads:

Hailee Lukes

13A Waters St.

You won, come home Dad.