Daniel held a 9–8–6–5–3. When Bad Bobby passed, Daniel opened for four thousand. Charley Li, Rupert, and Johnny Russo passed.
‘Hell, I always play the first pot,’ Clay Hormel said, calling. ‘If you don’t win the first one you can’t win them all.’
‘I like your philosophy, man,’ Rainbow Schubert said, also calling.
Guido looked at his cards belligerently. ‘What ees thees? A full house? I play the wrong game. But I call anyway because maybe the poker gods weel get eet straightened out.’ He set four thousand-dollar gold chips into the pot. ‘Teekets?’ he inquired sweetly, burning the top card face down in the pot.
Daniel rapped the table softly, indicating he was pat.
‘Nooo!’ Guido wailed. ‘Please reconsider.’
Daniel said sharply, ‘No cards.’
Guido shrugged with hopeless fatality. ‘Are you also pat, Meester Hormel?’
‘Not now. Send three.’ He discarded and Guido dealt him three cards.
Rainbow Schubert drew one.
Guido set the deck down, capped it with a chip, and looked at his cards for nearly thirty seconds. Finally he said, ‘I can’t play thees mess. I have two aces, two deuces, and that funny leetle man riding the bumblebee with hees finger up hees ass.’ He smiled at Daniel, appealing, ‘Help me play my hand.’ Guido turned it over: two aces, two deuces, and the joker.
Obviously he would draw two cards to ace, deuce, joker. Daniel suggested mildly, ‘Throw away your two pair and draw to the joker.’
Guido looked at Daniel with implacable fury. ‘I tell you sometheeng right now, my young one. You can fuck weeth Guido’s money because Guido, being a happy man, does not care about money. You can play weeth Guido’s wimmens because Guido, being a generous man, would never deny you their immense pleasures. But!’ he thundered, dramatically isolating the contradiction, ‘you cannot fuck weeth Guido’s mind!’ His voice softened to a reflective murmur. ‘You cannot fuck weeth Guido’s mind because Guido has no mind. He feed it to hees guts thirty years ago starving in Tijuana.’
‘I was just trying to be helpful,’ Daniel said, acting vaguely hurt that his intentions could possibly be misunderstood.
‘I will take two cards,’ Guido decided, discarding and drawing.
Daniel was slightly worried, not by Guido’s mouth, but his hand. Though a pat nine was the favorite against any two-card draw, ace-deuce-joker was the best two-card draw in the game. Daniel bet another four thousand, not a strong bet, but better than checking, since they would know he didn’t have a seven or lower.
Clay Hormel and Rainbow folded. Guido was squeezing out a peek at his draw. ‘Ah,’ he beamed, ‘a stranger. Look, I don’t lie.’ He laid down ace–deuce–joker–four, keeping the last card hidden.
Six cards will beat me, Daniel calculated, seven won’t. Damn near down to even money. He watched Guido’s eyes as he tipped the fifth card for a look. They glittered with excitement.
‘Yaaaaasss,’ Guido shrilled, ‘hello leetle seex!’ He glared at Daniel. ‘I call your puny bet and raise whole handfuls.’ Guido pushed in the ninety-six thousand dollars he had remaining.
Daniel looked at his hand again. It hadn’t changed. The odds slightly favored him, but it was far too early to risk it all on what he held. ‘Take the pot,’ he told Guido, folding his cards face down.
Guido glowed. ‘I don’t bullsheet you. I make a hand.’ He turned over his last card, the ace of hearts. He’d paired aces. ‘See? Two ace, three counting the joker.’ Suddenly he looked worried. ‘Three ace? No, I forget again!’ He slapped himself lightly on the side of the head. ‘Guido, you dumb one, wake up! Eet ees Lo-Ball! But,’ he quickly forgave himself, ‘take the cheeps anyhow.’
Next to Daniel, Bobby asked softly, ‘Rough eight or nine?’
‘Yup.’
‘You played it right. No need to risk it all early on a slim edge.’
‘That’s why I laid it down,’ Daniel said curtly.
‘Don’t let him get in you, now,’ Bobby warned, gathering the cards to deal.
Clay Hormel was the first to go broke, calling a raise from Rupert before the draw and then, when Rupert rapped pat, drawing two cards. When Rupert checked to him, he’d foolishly tried to bluff a pair of fives with his remaining twenty thousand. Rupert called immediately with his 8–4–3–2–1, and Clay sheepishly joined his flock of starlets on the sidelines.
The next few hours moved slowly. Daniel played conservatively, paying careful attention to position. He was down to sixty thousand when he realized the thousand-dollar antes were beginning to dent his stack. He began to open pots for ten thousand, trying to win the antes. At the end of five hours he was nearly back to even, as were most of the remaining players except Guido and Rupert, who each had about a hundred seventy-five thousand, and Charley Li, down to fifty thousand, his cautious play eating up his antes. Charley realized it too late, began playing catch-up hands, and steadily went broke. Daniel took Charley’s last eight thousand, making an eight against Charley’s pat nine.
Rainbow Schubert went broke ten minutes later. He’d reraised Bobby with a pat 10–9–8–2–1 before the draw. Bobby had only called, then rapped pat. That put the pressure on Rainbow, who after toying with his turquoise bracelet and tugging on his ponytail, finally threw away the 10–9–8 and drew three, catching a 9–4–3. When Bad Bobby uncharacteristically checked, showing weakness by not betting into a three-card draw, Rainbow bet the twenty-five thousand he had left. Bad Bobby called with his 8–5, springing the trap.
As the next hand was dealt, Bobby told Daniel, ‘I owe you a grand.’
Daniel gave him a quizzical look.
Bobby explained, ‘You weren’t the third player eliminated.’
‘That’s right,’ Daniel said. He’d forgotten the side bets.
The action picked up as each of the five remaining players looked for an edge. Though there were a few good pots, the hands broke close to even. As they approached midnight and the end of the first day, Daniel, Bobby, Guido, and Johnny Russo all had about a hundred eighty thousand with Rupert down to eighty grand.
Just before midnight, Daniel took fifty thousand of Rupert’s. Daniel was dealing. Rupert opened for ten thousand and everybody passed to Daniel. Daniel raised forty thousand. Rupert called and drew one card. Daniel played pat. When Rupert checked, Daniel bet thirty thousand, all that Rupert had left. Rupert considered for a moment then shook his head. ‘Take the pot, sir,’ he said with his usual crisp formality. ‘I was drawing to a six-four with the joker, and I caught a notch outside.’ He turned over his hand – 10–6–4–2–joker – then threw it in the discards.
Daniel said, ‘When you checked, I knew you didn’t have a seven or better, and I had all the eights.’ He turned over his hand, four eights and an ace.
Rupert nodded glumly. ‘Good hand.’
Guido squealed, ‘Someone call the weather station and please see for me if thees ess true. I don’t believe my eyes but I think I jus’ see some snowing.’
The last hand before midnight, Rupert tapped out.
Daniel and Bobby ate a late-night dinner in the lounge. Bobby reviewed the pro football games coming up the next day, idly asking Daniel what he thought of the spreads. Daniel wanted to talk about the card game. ‘Forget football. How am I doing?’
‘Who’s got the most chips on the table?’
‘I do,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ve got about two hundred fifty thousand, Guido two hundred forty, you’re around two ten, and Russo’s about even.’