Pokergeist (4 page)

Sten hovered for a minute and then settled on the railing. “Why are you still here, Clutch? What do you really want?”

“All I ever wanted was to win that bracelet,” replied Clutch.

Sten shook his head. “Be careful what you wish for…” He tossed the coin toward Clutch, who deftly caught it, surprise on his face. “There’s your change, Clutch. Don’t blow it.”

The air shimmered and he was gone. So was Telly.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
elly walked the mile and a half to the small apartment he shared with Gretchen. They had rented it soon after he’d lost the four-bedroom house. He had tried to keep it, but really, he was underwater with it anyway; foreclosure was the only way out. He had bought the home during the building boom in the early part of the millennium—houses springing up overnight, prices escalating. He’d purchased the trilevel home at the height, knowing he was overpaying, but with his promotion coming up soon he was confident he could afford the big mortgage. He never expected the casino to sell and eliminate his position. He had banked on his security. It was a sure thing—his field was important to the casinos. He had looked for work, but nobody was hiring at his former salary. He’d lowered his requirements, but wherever he interviewed, he was overqualified. They were afraid to hire him at a low salary, figuring he would move on as soon as something better showed up…only nothing better ever turned up. The interviews got scarcer and scarcer. Telly did a stint at a bank, and then he consulted on a few projects and ended up never getting paid. Companies went belly-up before they could pay him. It was after the
last fiasco that Gretchen had urged him to follow his dream and try to become a professional poker player.

“It’s now or never,” Gretchen told him in bed one night. She leaned over, a long, ash-blond curl playfully tickling his cheek. She was worried about him; he was sinking into a depression.
A man can only take so much rejection,
she thought, biting her bottom lip. Telly was so smart; he just needed a boost to his confidence. She would do anything to make him feel better.

“Nah, Gretch. It’s not steady. I have to get us out of this place.” Telly turned to take her in his arms.

“Listen. You let me try that belly-dancing thing.”

“You were so good at it.” Telly kissed her small upturned nose. She had the creamy complexion of a blonde with large blue eyes. She was so pretty, she took his breath away every time he looked at her. Telly couldn’t believe his good fortune when she had agreed to date him, much less marry him. Gretchen was sweet, kind, and beautiful. He adored her.

Gretchen shrugged a shoulder, the white strap of her gown sliding off. “Well, nobody liked it enough to buy the show.” Her eyes were downcast; Telly knew they were shiny with tears. “It’s this bum knee of mine; it ruins everything.”

Telly caressed her knee and then squeezed the kneecap gently, making Gretchen squeal with delight. “You’re the bee’s knees,” he said. He bent down to kiss them. Then he pulled her close and whispered, “I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” she giggled, kissing him back.

“I wish I could have made your dream come true, but booking a belly-dancing dog act was a bit of a hard sell.” As if sensing her mistress’s unhappiness, Sophie, the famous belly-dancing dog, jumped on the bed to snuggle with her family. Telly looked at her sad, googly eyes, one facing east, the other west. Her protruding bottom teeth couldn’t contain her tiny tongue. She wheezed. Telly patted her matted head. “Not that the two of you weren’t wonderful, but…”

“An ex–Playboy Bunny looking for her lost sheep is more entertaining,” Gretchen finished forlornly.

“Your performance blew hers out of the water,” Telly assured her. Gretchen sniffed loudly, and Telly reached over to grab his glasses so he could see her better. “Gretch, I could get a job teaching.”

That was Telly, always trying to make things better whether it was his parents, his brother, or herself—he didn’t care what he had to do to make it easier for someone else. Gretchen thought for a minute and decided impulsively to let Telly have a moment too. He loved poker, worshipped the game, the ambiance of the casino, the cool factor, as he called it. What if she encouraged his flight of fancy? Not for long, of course. He wouldn’t last—he was such a sweetheart; he couldn’t sustain that type of lifestyle. Maybe if he got it out of his system, a regular job might appeal again. What was wrong with helping Telly dream a little? She had an idea, but she had to be careful. The last time he’d gotten caught up in a poker game, he’d become a little obsessed. She would have to make sure she watched him this time and didn’t let it get out of hand. Telly was pretty steady, and she did trust that he would make the right decisions in the end. Still, everybody deserved a chance to pursue a dream, even if it wasn’t an especially practical one.

“No, Telly.” She sat up. “One of us has to have a chance. You always wanted this. Let’s try it. Isn’t the International Series of Poker coming up in a few weeks?”

“I’ll never make the entry fees.”

“Use the time to see if you can win enough to enter. Maybe you can do what I couldn’t. I know what we need right now.” She got up to pad into their kitchenette.

“It feels irresponsible. What if it doesn’t work? We don’t have much to risk.” He considered his options and shook his head. “It goes against everything my parents taught me,” Telly called out to her. He heard the freezer open, the jangle of spoons. “What are you doing?”

Gretchen’s soft voice carried from the other room. “I agree, Tel. It doesn’t feel like real work, but you know, you could do a trial thing, only a month…”

“Or two,” he mumbled. “I just have to make it into the Series. I need ten grand.” He spoke more to himself than to anyone else. It was his dream. If he could get into a groove, he could support them both comfortably. He hated the place where she worked, but right now, he didn’t have options.

“I did say one month, Tel.” She was quiet for a few minutes, and then she continued. “We couldn’t support a long-term…um…experiment. I mean, I only lasted two weeks.”

“Right,” Telly yelled and then softened his voice when he realized she was back. He made room for her on the bed. She had a pint of ice cream and two spoons: Gretchen’s cure-all.

They dug into the ice cream, taking turns, making sure their spoons didn’t clash. Telly was nothing if not polite.

“I don’t know. What if I lose too much?” He had never done anything so—what would he call it? Daring? Risky? His parents would have a shit-fit. He could hear them already—it’s not steady; the hours are terrible; think of the people you’d be with.
Yeah,
he thought with a snort,
as if the straight and narrow did me any good.
His face darkened.

“Look,” Gretchen said, bringing him back. She wanted him to try this; he’d been so unhappy lately. She knew once his confidence was restored, he’d bounce back. He always did. “We’ll set a budget and a time limit. We have what…six hundred in the safe?”

“Yeah, but that’s for emergencies…”

“Tel. I know what it’s for. I’ll put in extra hours at the bar, and we’ll make it up. Let’s treat this like a business. It’s not a bad investment for a start-up. We only have to make enough for you to get into the Series.” Gretchen smiled.
Then he’ll get it out of his system and go for a real job,
she reasoned.

“Aren’t you a regular Donald Trump.” Telly leaned over to kiss her, enjoying the rum-raisin taste on her lips. “You have to stop me if I get too caught up. You remember what happened the last time?”

“The Poker Game from Hell.” Gretchen nodded grimly. Telly got involved in a game in a casino and wouldn’t stop, even after he maxed out his credit card to keep buying in. “You lost your head. It was like you were possessed.”

“Possessed by the ghost of poker,” Telly agreed. “That’ll never happen again. So if we plan with what we’ve got, and say I hit a streak, maybe I’ll make it to the Series.” It was his lifelong dream to make it into one of the coveted spots of the International Series of Poker, a yearly game that named one winner as the champion of the world. Thousands entered, but there was only a single winner. He closed his eyes and imagined holding the thick gold bracelet and the hefty check for eight million dollars. Boy, that would put them to rights once again. He could feel the bright lights of the cameras, the crowd pressing in on him. He wasn’t so redundant…

“Telly…Telly.” Gretchen’s voice interrupted his fantasy. “It’s just a few weeks away. We can do this. If you can’t make the entry fee, then Tel, it’s over, just like me and belly dancing.”

Telly pulled himself up against the headboard. “All right,” he said with determination. “I’ll do it for both of us. If I qualify for the Series and win, I’ll finance your show and then we’ll both live our dream. You are so good, Gretchen.”

Gretchen nuzzled his ear, tickling him. “Do you remember when your parents thought I was a gold digger?”

“Yeah, well you showed them; you’ve stuck with me through thick and thin.” He pointed to his lip and then his heart. It was a thing between them—sometimes when words didn’t work, all they said was thick and thin while pointing to their lips and heart. It was all they needed. He settled in bed, pulling her downward. “I just wish your mom didn’t think I was such a jerk.”

Gretchen snuggled close. “I love you, Telly. No matter what my mom says, I love you.”

Telly wrapped an arm around her, and Sophie the Lhasa settled on his other side. He didn’t have a job or reasonable prospects, but he had a great girl and life was good.

* * *

Time flew by, and before he knew it, the money and the trial period were almost gone. Things did not go as well as Telly had hoped. He lost and lost, and then he lost some more. Oh, there was an occasional win, but he was so far behind the eight ball at this time, it would take a miracle to catch up. Besides, once they paid their bills, he needed stake money again, so his victories didn’t buy them much. Gretchen never complained, but he knew she was working two shifts at the bar, and it was time to move on. How long could he ask her to carry the bulk of the load? He turned the corner to the Tango Motel, their temporary home, wearily climbing the concrete steps to the second level. Each room was a sort of suite, with a kitchenette, a bath, a space for a couch with a television, and a pokey bedroom. It was dank and grimy but cheap enough for the two of them, and it accepted dogs. His neighbor stood outside his apartment smoking lazily in the hot night air.

“Evening, Quick Daddy,” Telly said politely.

“My man—how’d you do tonight?” Quick Daddy leaned over the iron railings of the balcony, his cigarette dangling from his slender fingers.

Telly shrugged.

“Man, Tel, something’s got to give.” He pulled off his do-rag, revealing rows of braided hair.

Telly smiled, “Cheryl do that?”

“She like to pretend she still a hairdresser,” Quick Daddy replied. “Here come my babydoll now.”

Cheryl bounded up the steps two at a time. She was dressed for business in satin hot pants and a sports bra with two shells covering her breasts. She slid a roll of money into Quick Daddy’s hand.

Telly nodded. “Hi, Cheryl.”

“Hi, Telly. How were the tables tonight?”

Telly responded that the gods of gambling hadn’t shined down on him. He never asked Cheryl how her job was. He didn’t want to know. It wasn’t that he judged her; it was just that he was uncomfortable talking about it.

Cheryl pulled off the waist-length red wig, revealing a cap of short, flattened yellow curls.

“Hard night, babydoll?” Quick Daddy asked sympathetically.

“It’s a grind,” she replied forlornly, and then she cracked up, causing her boyfriend to laugh with her.

Telly looked at her oddly. “They are hiring down at the mall, Cheryl.”

“Doing what?” Cheryl leaned against the railing. “Telly, I make five times the money I did when I worked in an office. And I make my own hours,” Cheryl said, laying her hand on his arm. “Don’t look that way. I like my work. I don’t mind.”

Telly was aghast. “You like calling yourself ‘The Little Spermaid’?”

“Oh, that’s just a gimmick. But it’s
my
gimmick.
My
choice. Got it, Telly? Don’t you feel sorry for me. I won’t stand for it. This is the best way we can save up to buy our own CiCi’s Pizza franchise.”

“CiCi’s Pizza?”

“Everybody’s got a dream, Telly. We need fourteen thousand dollars more. By this time next year, you’ll be eating pizza on us.”

Dreams, it seems, are universal. Everybody has one,
Telly thought. “If I make it into the Series and win, then you guys won’t have to wait until next year.”

“Then you and Gretch will be eating free pizza for the rest of your lives!” Cheryl announced proudly. “Right, Daddy?”

“Whatever you say, babydoll,” he agreed, and then he pulled her toward their rooms, leaving Telly to consider the black velvet sky.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
elly opened the door of the shabby apartment. His folks wouldn’t even visit him here; they were that upset with the place. Still, it was affordable, and he knew they wouldn’t be there for long.

Gretchen looked up from the rusty-orange sofa, a romance book in her hands. “How’d you do, Tel?” she asked hopefully.

“Well, I almost won a hand.” He threw the key card onto the scarred dresser top where it skidded through the dust. He took off his glasses to rub his tired eyes.

Gretchen stood to embrace him, but he waved her off, pointing to his speckled pants. “Don’t come near me till I change.” He shrugged. “A bride got sick on me.”

Gretchen sighed. “Maybe it’s good luck.”

“It’s
my
luck,” Telly responded from the bedroom, changing into sweats. Gretchen heard water running.

“There is always tomorrow…unless you want to think about the job at George’s Cab Service.” She said it softly, but Telly heard her.

“The Series is next week,” he said, as if that explained everything. “I know it’s been hard, Gretchen. It’s not like I don’t appreciate how you’ve supported my dream, but I feel so close.”

He came out of the bathroom to see Gretchen’s lips pursed with disapproval. He felt bad—they had agreed that if he didn’t succeed, he would shelve the whole idea. But he just wasn’t ready to do that yet.

The cab job…twelve hours a day, six days a week. A steady income, but no shot for real money. Once he took that, his chances for the Series were impossible. They had to last another week, just another week.

“We’re so close—registration is Monday.” Telly came in to sit on the edge of the couch.

Gretchen closed her book and turned to face him. She had been quiet the last few days. Anybody who knew Gretchen could tell she was concerned. Gretchen had turned inward. She didn’t want to burden him with her suspicions, at least not yet, but Telly had to get a real job, really fast. She worried her bottom teeth with her top lip, her hands twisting. This was all her fault in so many ways. It had seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago, but instead of bolstering his confidence, losing so many games was causing Telly to sink to a new low. People made him feel incompetent. It had the opposite effect Gretchen had expected. She had to get him out of that climate before he had a breakdown. She knew Telly, worried about him. It’s hard to keep getting up when you are constantly thrown back down. He needed something safe.
How hard can it be to drive a cab?
she thought. A few weeks and he’ll be back to his old self. If she were a gambling woman, she would bet money on it. Aside from that, they didn’t have time anymore for experiments. Their lives were about to change in a big way. She filed that problem in the back of her head under bad timing, figuring she’d spring it on him when they were more secure. Instead she said, “I know, honey. But we don’t have the entry fee anymore. I used it up for the car.”

Telly sighed, his cheeks taut, and ran his hands through his hair. “The car…right.” Gretchen touched his face. Sophie jumped up to lay her paw against his knee, her bulbous eyes appealing. “So much is resting on me winning, Gretchen. You, Sophie, Cheryl…”

“Cheryl?”

“She wants to open a pizza place. It’s a long story, but I don’t know, I have a feeling, a good feeling. Something big is going to happen. I can’t give up now.” Telly took her hands within his own. “Just another few days, and then…I’ll give up.”

Gretchen stood, her face closed, and pulled her purse from the closet. He was merely putting off the inevitable. It was actually harder watching him lose. Gretchen couldn’t understand what he saw in the whole thing. How could he not see what she needed to tell him? She opened her mouth to tell him, but instead huffed angrily, “That’s it, Telly!”

Telly looked up, surprised. Gretchen never raised her voice.

“Stop setting impossible standards for yourself. You are always trying to please somebody. You have to stop!”

“I like pleasing you.” He smiled, and it broke her mood. She smiled at him warmly. You couldn’t stay mad at Telly. He was one of the good guys.

“I like when you please me too.” She hugged him. “Take a step back and stop being so hard on yourself. You can’t save the world.”

“I can barely save myself,” Telly said softly.

Gretchen cupped his face. “I think you are the best man I know. When will you realize that? Stop trying so hard. I have to go.” She took off his glasses and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Try to get some rest.” She rubbed the red spots on each side of his nose and then replaced the glasses gently. “Thick and thin.” She kissed each cheek and then turned to leave.

“Where are you going? It’s after ten.”

“One of the girls called off. I figured we could use the extra money.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you.”

“I didn’t pick up the car. We still owe another two hundred. They won’t release it.”

“OK, that’s it. I’ll go fill out an application tomorrow. I give up.”

Gretchen smiled sadly. “Believe me, Telly. I know how this feels. Look, maybe I can get a payday loan.” She added, “For the car, I mean.”

“Forget it, Gretch. I knew tonight was my last night. It’s over. I’ll walk you to the bar.”

Gretchen shook her head. “No, you go to sleep. We don’t want you looking tired when you go look for a job tomorrow.”

Telly shook his head and stood, ready to escort Gretchen the three blocks to the bar where she worked. They held hands the whole way, admiring the midnight sky flecked with silver stars. Telly pointed out constellations. “That’s the summer triangle.”

Gretchen stopped to peer into the inky darkness. “I don’t see it.”

“How could you miss it? Look, there’s Altair, Vega, and Deneb.” He drew an imaginary triangle in the air to show her their location. Gretchen turned to face him.

“You are so smart.”

“Yeah, a real Einstein. I’m just a font of useless information.”

Gretchen grabbed his face, kissing him and smashing his glasses against his eyelids. “Never say that, Telly. You are the smartest guy I know. I’m patient, and I’m willing to wait for the rest of the world to realize it!”

Telly took her hand. “Come home with me, Gretchen,” he said urgently. He had a bad feeling. He didn’t want her going into the bar. “Don’t go in there.”

“Stop. There’s a fight this week in town. There’ll be a lot of customers tonight. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Telly looked at the ground, feeling silly. They stood together at the back door near the nasty-smelling garbage. “What time do you get off?”

A red mustang pulled in, spraying gravel everywhere. It jerked to a stop, and Gretchen’s boss got out. Rob Couts had a bullet-shaped shaved head, with beefy arms that reminded Telly of Popeye. In fact, that was what Telly called him, at least at home. He was short, but he walked with his hands fisted in a determined stride. He stepped from his car, his beady eyes moving down Gretchen’s body, and briefly glanced in Telly’s direction. “What’s up, Radio?”

“It’s Telly,” he replied, feeling the hairs go up on his neck.

“I know. I feel funny saying it. Hi, Gretch, you ready for tonight?” He turned to Gretchen, his voice a gravelly caress.

Gretchen’s shoulders hunched. “I’m not on for another fifteen minutes,” she replied. Telly watched her shrink before his eyes. He reached out to take her fingers loosely within his own. The air felt weighted; an electric current of tension sizzled in the hot air. A cat meowed, breaking the silence.

“You the poker player?”

“I like to play, yes,” Telly said defensively.

“Yeah, I bet you’re a regular Phil Hellmuth.” Rob looked him up and down and then dismissed him. “So I’ll see you at the Series, right?”

“The Series?” Telly asked.

“Yeah, doofus. The Series. If you play, you gotta play in that.”

“Of course—but I…I think we may have another commitment, right, Gretch?”

Gretchen nodded mutely, her eyes wide. She did not like Rob Couts. Rob stayed longer than he should have, even though he saw Gretchen slide her hand inside Telly’s. He looked at their clasped hands and said quietly, “I think it’s time for you to leave, Radio.”

Gretchen squeezed his hand and said loudly, “Not yet,” staring the other man down.

The couple appeared to be having a private moment, but Rob stood watching them. He hawked once, spitting a glob of mucus toward the trash. “If you change your commitments, I’ll see you at the Series. Thirteen minutes left,” he said abruptly, pushing through them to go inside. He had wide shoulders and wore short-sleeved shirts so you could see the veining on his muscled arms. Telly felt like a gawky kid next to him. Telly straightened his shoulders, but Rob had already dismissed him. He looked at her, trying to catch her eyes in the moonlight. “I’m going for the cab job first thing tomorrow. Are you uncomfortable here? Don’t go in.”

“It’s silly. You know I like my job. He’s just got a crush on me this week. He’ll move on to Jana next week.”

“I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

For the first time, his mild-mannered girlfriend bristled. “You think I can’t take care of myself? I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, Telly. I can take care of myself.”

“I never doubted that, Gretch,” Telly said honestly. He loved her independence. Gretchen had reunited with her mother just recently, after a lifetime of foster care. Her mother had spent Gretchen’s youth in a haze of alcohol abuse and drug addiction.

“Go home, Tel. I’ll be back by five.” She turned toward the door.

Telly reached into his pocket, opening his wallet to pull out a thinly folded ten-dollar bill. It was his emergency cash. When he’d first gotten his license, his mother had given it to him and insisted that he keep it behind his ID card so he would never be without money. He had never used it and was a little sentimental about it. It made Gretchen’s insides melt. Telly would give the shirt off his back if she didn’t protect him.

“No, Telly!”

“Don’t argue with me.” He placed it in her palm. “Call a cab. I mean it, Gretchen. Don’t walk home.” He placed his finger on her lip and then his heart.

Gretchen whispered, “Thick and thin.” She kissed him good-night, waving as he left to walk the few blocks home alone.