“Have a seat, Benji,” Gordo said, pulling out a chair.
Ben slid into position and pulled out his wallet.
“So, Ben, this is a surprise.” Diane spoke through the teeth clenching her cigar. “I didn’t think you played.”
“Normally I don’t,” Ben said. “But since this is a memorial game …”
She nodded toward the spinner rack holding the chips. Apparently she served as banker, which didn’t particularly surprise him. “So, did you bring any money?”
“Oh, right. What’s traditional?”
“Each of us puts in fifty bucks,” Diane explains. “And that’s all you get. You can’t bring in new money. Once you’re out, you’re out. We play until someone has all the chips.”
Ben gulped. “How long does that take?”
“Sometimes all night.”
Scat laughed. “Ten bucks says Kincaid doesn’t last till sandwiches.”
Gordo laughed. “I’ll go fifteen.”
Ben tried to smile jovially. “Hey, I might surprise you.”
Scat and Gordo did not respond, but Ben had the distinct impression they thought this an unlikely possibility.
Gordo sniffed the air. “I think I smell a fish.”
Denny did the same. “Yeah. Tuna. Major quantities.”
They both laughed. Ben knew he was missing something.
“A fish is a sure loser, in poker parlance,” Diane explained. “A tuna is a big fish.”
“Watch out for Diane,” Gordo advised. “She used to be a professional.”
“A—wha—you mean—”
“Not that kind of professional.” Gordo laughed. “Well, only in my dreams.”
Diane blew smoke in his face. “Grow up, Gordo.”
Scat explained. “She used to play poker professionally.”
Diane nodded. “Back when I lived in Vegas. Came in second at the World Series of Poker freeze-out at Binion’s in 1992. ’Course, I had a little more money to work with back then.”
“I had no idea you guys were so … serious about this.” Swallowing hard, Ben pulled fifty dollars out of his wallet and plopped it down on the table.
“Easy come, easy go, right, Ben?” Diane said, snatching the money up.
“Nice of you to come out tonight, Ben,” Earl said quietly. Against all odds, it appeared he was taking this memorial game stuff seriously. “You honor Lily’s memory.”
Ben collected his chips. “Well, it was the least I could do.”
“Ever been to a memorial game like this?”
“Can’t say that I have. Have you?”
“We had one for George—Professor Hoodoo—after he was gone. Very next night, in fact. Good thing, too. After that, I woulda been … unavailable.”
As in incarcerated, Ben surmised.
“Now that was a night,” Earl continued. “You boys can’t imagine what it was like back then. George Armstrong was the best of us and we all knew it. He knew everythin’ there was to know about music. That’s why we called him the Professor. We loved that man. Most of the time, anyway. There must’ve been thirty, forty people showed up to play that night. Everyone wanted to pay their last respects to the Professor.”
“So they came to a poker game?”
“Why not? Beats gettin’ drunk and wailin’ at some wake, or standin’ like cake decorations around a new-dug grave.”
Ben nodded. He supposed it did at that.
“I’m glad to see you here tonight, too, Scat,” Earl continued. “I didn’t ’spect that. ’S good of ya.”
Scat nodded, but made no reply.
What did that mean? Ben wondered. “You knew Lily, didn’t you?” Ben asked Scat.
“Yeah,” he said, eyes still hidden behind the shades. “I knew Lily.”
Earl cut in. “Hell, son, Scat here knew Lily and Professor Hoodoo and everyone else on the circuit. He used to hang with Huey Smith. Played sax with Red Tyler. Traded licks in OKC with Bob Gilkenson. Went to Paris with Lightnin’ Hopkins and T-Bone Walker.”
Scat dipped his head slightly.
“Oh, old Scat’s known most everybody in the biz at one time or ’nother. He’s been around almost as long as I have!” Earl laughed, then slapped Scat heartily on the back.
“Did any of the rest of you know Lily?” Ben asked casually.
No one indicated that they did, although Ben knew that probably didn’t mean much.
“I think it’s really bizarre, this mysterious man with the rug showing up just before the corpse does. You guys were all around then, too. Did any of you see him?”
“What about you, Scat?” Gordo said. “I remember you said you had to run an errand before the show started. Did you bump into this creep?”
Scat turned his shaded eyes away. “I didn’t see a damn thing.”
“So, like, are we going to play cards here or what?” Diane interjected.
“Straighten up, boys,” Denny said. “Diane’s gettin’ serious.”
Gordo grinned. “Diane, honey, you can get serious with me anytime.”
Diane ignored him. “All right, you peckerwoods, listen up. The game is Texas Hold ’Em. Two cards down, five in the middle of the table we all share, the first three at the same time, then the fourth, then the fifth. Got it?”
Ben nodded, since he assumed the detailed game description was mostly for his benefit.
“All right. Here we go.” Diane dealt out two cards face down to each player.
Ben checked his draw. Two of clubs and six of hearts. Remembering Loving’s first rule, he folded.
After everyone else made their bets, Diane dealt three cards to the center of the table. An eight and two jacks. Obviously, if anyone held a jack as a hole card, they were in clover.
Another round of betting was followed by another card to the middle, this time a nine. By the time the betting was finished, only Diane and Gordo remained.
“So,” Diane said, chomping down on her cigar. “Now it’s just you and me.”
Gordo snickered. “I’ve dreamt of this moment.”
“I’ll try to make it something you’ll remember for a good long time.” She reached for her chips. “Five bucks says you don’t have a jack under there.”
Gordo matched the wager. “Five bucks says I do.” He reached back for another chip and raised her another five. “Or maybe even two.”
“I doubt it.” She called. “Let’s see what’s coming.” She flipped a fifth card onto the table. It was another jack.
Eyes widened around the table. Following Loving’s second rule to live by, Ben watched the faces. Diane didn’t appear too delighted with this development.
All eyes were glued to their hands, still face down on the table. Ben suddenly realized his heart was beating faster—and he wasn’t even playing. Maybe there was more to this game than he realized.
Gordo pushed at least ten dollars’ worth of chips into the center. “Lily must’ve been some lady,” he clucked. “Tonight is my night.”
A somber expression cloaked Diane’s face. She was obviously thinking, calculating. Ben didn’t see how she had any choice. Sure, she had a lot of chips on the table, but Gordo obviously had a jack. She couldn’t possibly beat him.
Diane’s hands dipped back into her chips. “I’ll call,” she said.
Gordo’s eyes flew open. “Are you crazy, woman?”
“I called,” Diane said calmly. “Let’s see your cards.”
All the elation drained out of Gordo’s face. With lips tightly pursed, he reached down and flipped over his cards.