I offered ten thousand, and the guy who had cut offered twenty. I let him take it. Then I put twenty on punto and waited for the cards. I got a queen and a nine, both hearts. The guy turned over two black queens, and the worker passed me the four green rectangles. I left them on punto and it turned out punto again. I left the eight on punto and punto took it. I got sixteen green rectangles, and I waited. It turned out punto again, but at the next hand I was on the banco. I staked four green rectangles. The cards were dealt. I had a nine of clubs and a nine of diamonds. The punto only had six. I made three more bancos and on the fourth I passed it. The worker asked for chips, and the cashier brought him a stack of large golden plaques worth fifty thousand. I got ten of these and eight or nine green rectangles. The guy who had cut asked for two-hundred-thousand from the cashier and got four gold plaques. I kept getting distracted, fleetingly, by how familiar he looked.
He staked forty thousand on the banco, and I bet forty on punto. They dealt the hand and we pushed at six. After a push at six it’s presumed the hand will go banco, so I thought about pulling out the four ten-thousand-peso chips. But it seemed like a vulgar move, since I was up. It turned out punto.
See that? said the familiar-looking guy. He takes four hands on the banco, passes it, then he bets on punto and punto takes it.
That was all he said. And not to anyone in particular. He was thinking out loud. After that it went four more puntos, one banco, another punto, and then the banco came back to me. I made five hands and passed it. Then I played punto again and it turned out punto. No one else at the table seemed to have a cent left. They all looked like some guy who needs ten pesos for the bus. Then the familiar-looking guy stood up and whispered in the worker’s ear. The worker listened for a moment and nodded. Then he asked me if I would take a check. I said I would. Then the familiar-looking guy asked how much I would take a check for. I said any amount, as long as there were funds behind it. The guy said there were, but that it would be a little difficult to verify at that hour. He would have to call up the manager at the Banco Provincial in Rosario, get him out of bed, ask him to go to the bank and find his account book in the safe. I said I would rather believe him than waste a hundred and fifty pesos on the phone call to Rosario. With that the guy took a checkbook from the inside pocket of his jacket, sat down, and filled out a check. Then he handed it to me. I must have blushed. It was for a million. I counted out twenty gold plaques and took the check. He put two gold plaques on the banco and I took the bet.
He made six bancos and then he passed it. Two guys who were totally tapped out wrote checks to the guy who had given me the one for a million. Ten minutes later we were neck-deep in the bloodiest game I had ever played in my life. By one in the morning I didn’t have anything left but the hundred-sixty in my pocket, which I owed a hundred of, and the check for a million. So I gave back the check and the guy handed me twenty gold plaques. Then he had to give back a check for three hundred thousand that he had just gotten, and he got six gold plaques. The green rectangles had all but disappeared from the table. We used them for tips.
Soon, the chips were collecting in front of a guy dressed in gray. He had on a gold watch. Its band was too big for him, and every time he moved his arm it slid down to the back of his wrist. He was the one who had taken back the check for three hundred. He made twelve bancos in a row, then it went around the circle, and when it got back to him he made another eleven. Before I knew it, all I had was the hundred sixty in my pocket. I asked for a hundred thousand more in chips and lost them.
I leaned over to the worker and whispered that I was short forty thousand but I wanted another hundred thousand. He said he could give it to me, if and when I wrote a check, for the next day. Not only did I not have a check, I said, I didn’t have a bank account, but by the next afternoon I could get the money. Finally, he agreed. I lost that too, paid the cashier, and walked out into the street. A fine rain covered me and I started walking slowly. The rain refreshed my face. On the corner, I stopped suddenly. I had recognized the familiar-looking guy’s face. One night, as I was leaving the game, he had asked me for two hundred pesos for something to eat.
I turned around, quietly went back in, and softly crossed the dark corridor. Before I even reached the door I could already smell the worker’s cologne. As I was turning the handle and pushing the door open, I heard the worker’s voice and then laughter. When I opened the door completely I saw the full picture. They weren’t playing. No chips were out. They were all standing, bent over the center of the table, and the worker was distributing my money.
Listen, fellas, I said. You should take this show on the road, in the countryside. They all turned at once but no one budged. I walked toward them. The guy with the gold watch looked at me with a kind of half smile. The rest were mute and serious. Then the worker reached into this pocket and pulled out a pistol. But I didn’t stop. He moved to block me.
These things always end badly, counselor, he said. Every time.
I didn’t even slow down as I slapped him. I thought of hitting him with a fist, but I didn’t do it for two reasons. First, I didn’t want to hurt him. Second, if I tried to punch him and missed they would’ve beat me down until I was dead. The slap had the intended effect, and not slowing down reinforced it. The pistol fell from his hand and the others spread around the table in a semicircle. The ten-thousand-peso bills were scattered everywhere. I gathered them up calmly, counted them, and put them in my pocket. As I was leaving the worker said, These things always end badly, every time.
I slammed the door and in a second I was in the street. The rain covered me again. I walked so slowly that it took me more than half an hour to get home. I entered in the darkness and went to my desk. Then I turned on the light, opened the first drawer, took out the tea tin, and put Delicia’s sixty thousand in it. I put the tin back, dropped the other hundred thousand in the drawer, and closed it. I turned off the light and went upstairs. In the bathroom I undressed and washed my face. Then I went into my room, in the dark, and got in bed. As I was laying down I realized Delicia was there, awake, her eyes open, waiting for me. She didn’t say a word. When I touched her I realized she didn’t have anything on. She was shaking.
They cheated, Delicia, I said. They don’t gamble, they cheat instead. My grandfather knew.
Then we rolled around in bed for the rest of the night. When I woke up, it was the afternoon. I took a shower and went downstairs. Delicia was in the kitchen. She was staring hard at the brown stains in the courtyard.
There must be some way to get them out, she said.
I said I wasn’t sure there was and went to the study. I didn’t do anything. I flipped through my comic collection, but couldn’t find anything to focus on. Then I reread my essay on Chic Young. It sounded pretty insolent. At five, Delicia brought the mate. Her sixty thousand was in the first drawer, I said, in the tin. She could take them whenever she wanted. I went into the kitchen after it got dark, ate something, and then shut myself back up in the study. Before midnight, I went to bed. Delicia was there. We rolled around for an hour or so, and then I fell asleep. I woke up before dawn. Delicia was asleep. I got up, washed my face, then I went down to the kitchen and made a mate. I went to my desk and looked out at the rain until it was light out. The sky changed color. First it was blue, then it took on a greenish tint, and finally it ended up a steel gray that lasted the rest of the day. At eight I looked up Negro Lencina’s number and called him. The shopkeeper picked up and told me to hold on. For ten minutes I didn’t hear anything, until finally the shopkeeper picked up again. El Negro was at a wake, he said. That can’t be right, I said, the wake was the day before. But the shopkeeper said he gathered that it wasn’t the same wake, but another one, and then he hung up.