Jack of Spades

Jack Walsh enters the casino like walking into his living room. His every movement is smooth and unhurried. He stops in the foyer to take in the action, the casino reflecting in his mirror sunglasses. Listening to the wheel of fortune click, the cards shuffle, and the dice roll is like music to his ears. Jack smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. He is dressed in his usual attire; a pleated white shirt with black buttons and French cuffs. His black suede buttoned vest complement hid desired effect. He’s tapping the toe of his cowboy boot as he takes in the scene Jack Walsh is thirty-two years old and quite a looker, and he knows it. He’s also a poker player.

Jack walks over to the poker room to see what’s happening. He’s feeling lucky tonight and searches out the room’s supervisor, Big Ben Buckly.

“Hey, Ben. How’s the action tonight, many turnovers?” Jack scans the room while fiddling with his pinky ring. It’s a black onyx in the shape of a spade with a diamond chip in the center.

“No. Everybody seems to be fairly lucky with the wealth moving steadily around the tables.No one wants to quit in case theirs is the next big winning hand.” Ben turns and looks toward table six when a groan goes up. Both men watch to see if someone is about to leave, but no one does. Ben looks to Jack and smiles. “See what I mean?”

Each poker table features a kidney-shaped design, accommodating six players. Jack keeps hoping for a vacant chair; he needs to be in the game.

A couple of weeks ago, Jack was playing against Dickie Auburn, a local loan shark. Auburn’s tactic is to watch the other players and, when he sees one that looks desperate makes a significant raise against them. When they can’t meet the call, Dickie offers them a loan to cover the bet. The loan is straight up with a forty percent service charge due in one week. Win or lose, you still owe the loan. That’s why Dickie owns a used car lot across town full of expensive. Jack should have known better, but kings over queens looked like a sure thing. “Oh, well. That’s why they call it gambling,” sighs Jack to himself. It’s been two weeks, and he owes Auburn twenty grand.

Jack has spent the last two weeks playing off the strip, side joints full of tourists and rookies. He has scraped together $13,000 and intends to put it toward winning the rest of the loan.Ben suggests Jack try one of the other games, but Jack shrugs his shoulders and explains that he has no luck those. That’s when he sees an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Hey, Ben. What’s the story with that table over there?”

Ben smiles as he hooks his thumb toward the poker room. “That, my friend, is reserved for that man there. His name is Bayou Bob from New Orleans.

Jack removes his sunglasses and hangs them on his vest. “Then why is he roaming around instead of playing poker?”

“Because,” Ben gestures with his hands. “No one will play against him.”

Jack scrunches up his forehead. “Why not?”

Ben pauses to find the right words. “Let’s just say he is the Don Rickles of poker. He’s loud, insulting, and obnoxious. He rushes you to play your turn and takes his time on his own. He’ll tell you the cards he is holding and still win. Hell! He’ll even tell you the cards that you’re holding and still win. People hate him.” Bayou Bob swivels his head like a feral cat, fixing the two men with predatory eyes.

As Bob shouts from the room, Jack freezes in place. He even stops fidgeting with his pinky ring. Bayou Bob barrels toward them like a semi on a one-way street, accusing Ben of trying to scare Jack off.

“Bob!” Ben replies. “You know I can’t do that. It would cost me my job!”

”You’re damn right it would! "Bob exclaims. He sticks out his hand and introduces himself. “ I’m Bayou Bob! And you are?” Before Jack can say anything, Bob starts pumping his hand like he’s jacking up a Ford pick-up truck

Ben intervenes. “Bayou Bob, I’d like you to meet Jack Walsh. Better known as “The Jack of Spades. "Bob immediately stops pumping Jack’s arm and frowns. “Well, now that’s just a pity. Here I thought I was meeting a real poker player.” Ben informs him that Jack is his first name.

“Oh, I know that, still, if he were any good, I should think he’d be known as the Ace of Spades, that’s all.” Bob then throws back his head and lets out a loud, nasal laugh that sounds more like a jackass braying. Jack pulls his hand away and slowly wipes it on the thigh of his jeans. “Just call me Jack, okay, Swamp Bottom Bob?” Bob narrows his eyes but that doesn’t hide the fire Jack’s comment lit. “That’s Bayou Bob.” he replies through clenched teeth. Jack steps closer. “I know! I just thought it sounded better, that’s all.”

To ease the tension, Ben smiles and claps his hands together, “Are we playing poker or not?”

A grin slides across Bob’s face, his eyes flashing. “Hell, yeah! Sounds like fun!”

Jack gets a chance to take a good look at Bob as they walk to the table. He’s wearing worn-out work boots with faded jeans. He’s got both suspenders and a belt-just to be sure his pants stay up. The sleeves of his plaid shirt look torn off, as if to show off his tattoos. On his right bicep is a large heart with the word Mother written across it. On his left is the same tattooed heart, except the script is too filthy to read. To top it all off is the red “Make America Great Again” cap.

Bob takes his seat behind a wall of poker chips and grins. “What do you say we play good old-fashioned Texas Hold’em?”He then signals the girl to bring drinks. Jack nods in agreement and, when the girl arrives, he passes her all his cash for a stack of chips.

Texas Hold ’em is a simple game. The dealer deals each player two cards face down. He then deals three more cards in the center of the table face up; this is called the river. Each player looks to see if they can make a winning hand with the cards they have. After each bet, another card is dealt until there are five cards in the center of the table. After the last bet, all the cards are revealed, and the winner with the best hand wins.

Bob orders a beer with no glass, and Jack orders a pale ginger ale. The game begins.

The dealer deals each player two cards. The next three in the center are an ace, a jack, and a seven. Bob doesn’t even look at his cards and throws a hundred-dollar chip into the pot. Jack shields his cards and takes a peek, a pair of kings. Jack stares at Bob’s unseen cards. They could be anything, and this fat slob didn’t even look!

“You gonna play cards or knit a sweater? I ain’t got all night!” Jack throws in his chip. “I’m in.”The next card is a six, and Bob does the same thing, throws in a chip without looking at his hand. The nerve in Jack’s left eye involuntarily twitches. Jack’s mind is racing, “What the hell is he up to? Is this some kind of trick?” He can’t understand what’s going on, but knows he has a pair of kings and throws in his chip. The last card dealt is a three. Bob throws in his chip and then announces, “And I’ll raise you another hundred.”

Jack feels utterly lost. This is sheer madness and no way to play poker at all. This is more like a carnival hustler ripping off rubes for dimes! “I’ll see your raise and call.” Jack flips over his cards. A pair of kings.”

Bob looks at his cards for the first time and smiles. He flips over two sevens. “Well, don’t that beat all? I got me three of a kind!” Bob then reaches across the table and rakes in all the chips, letting out his braying laugh.

Ben deals the next hand. While Jack looks at his cards, Bob throws two hundred dollars into the pot. "Let’s see if we can play a little faster this time, okay?” he grins.

Jack gives Bob a hard look before returning to his cards. They’re a two and a four. He stares at Bob’s unseen cards and then at Bob. “Don’t you ever look? Kind of makes me feel like you’re cheating somehow.”

Bob stiffens, his brows drawing together, his eyes fixed in a penetrating stare. “Bayou Bob is no cheat!” He shrugs," But if it will make you feel better... “Bob makes a point of picking up his cards and holding them inches away from his face. He peeks over their tops. “Well, what do you know? They ain’t half bad! So, are you in or not?”

Jack finally puts his finger on what it is about Bob he doesn’t like. When he was a kid, there was a boy in his class who hated to lose at checkers. He would study and memorize every defensive move, making it impossible to beat him. In the end, no one would play checkers with him anymore. Jack decides he’s not going down that rabbit hole ever again. He pushes all his chips into the pot, "I’m all in.”

Bob nearly chokes on his beer. “What? Did you say you’re all in? Well, just how much is all in anyway?”

Jack croons, “12,700.00 dollars.”

Bob looks at his stack of chips and then at his hand again. Next, he studies Jack’s cards, which are face down on the table, and then at Jack himself. “No way you got anything. I think you’re bluffing.

“I don’t bluff,” Jack replies.

Bob counts out the matching amount and then, turning to Ben, says, “Deal.”

Ben deals the following five cards out in a row. They are a five, a six, a three, a jack, and an ace.

Bob’s eyes light up as he flips over a pair of sixes. “I got another three of a kind!”

Jack slowly reveals his two cards. Ben smiles. “Jack’s got a straight, Bob. Jack wins.”

Jack signals the girl to come and get his chips and bring back the cash.Bob’s breathing hard. “What are you doing? You ain’t quitting, are ya? I need a chance to get my money back!”

Dickie Auburn steps up behind Jack. “It’s not your money anymore, Bayou Bob. It’s mine.”

The girl returns with the cash. Jack counts out twenty grand and hands it to Auburn. “That’s right, and now that I’m out of the woods, I’m never going back. Thanks for the loan, Dickie, but we’re through." Jack pushes away from the table and tips the girl a hundred dollars, then does the same to Ben.

‘You know, Ben, I think I might give this up and find an honest line of work.”

Ben smiles. “Sure that would be nice. See you tomorrow night.”

Jack slides on his mirrored sunglasses and saunters across the casino floor. Over his shoulder, he calls back to Ben, “Right, tomorrow night it is.