by Ubukata, Tow
The dealer touched the earphone close to his ear to clear the request with his manager.
“That should be fine, sir,” he said. By all rights we should say no, but we’ll make an exception just this once as you’re here to enjoy yourselves, his face seemed to say. If ever the Doctor’s demeanor were going to be useful, it would be here. From the dealer’s point of view, the two punters in front of him were sitting ducks, ready to be plucked, and he was prepared to bend the rules to accommodate them however inappropriate the request.
The same went for the other players around the table. “What about you gentlemen—any objections?” asked the Doctor.
The cowboy hat shrugged his shoulders, while the suit next to him answered courteously that he had none.
Neither did the potbelly or the old gentleman have too many worries, it seemed. Indeed, they were only too happy to have a young lady join them at the table, they said. The cowboy hat suddenly chimed in to suggest that someone should make special chips for the disabled. Everyone else pretended not to hear him. Balot immediately hoped that he was the mechanic.
Without warning her left hand rose to touch her earring. “Pay him no attention,” she heard Oeufcoque say, as her fingers twiddled with her earring.
Within her heart, Balot nodded. That was all it took to communicate her feelings to Oeufcoque.
“From now on, we do everything by the book, okay? Listen to your left hand. Don’t deviate from the script,” said Oeufcoque.
Balot’s face tightened.
–Don’t worry. I won’t make any mistakes.
And then the betting commenced.
≡
The game was Hold’em.
Each player was dealt two cards facedown, and the idea was to try and combine these with the five community cards—that were dealt face up on the table—in order to make the best hand, with four rounds of betting to each hand.
The minimum bet at this table was thirty dollars at a time, the maximum sixty dollars.
It was a spread-limit game with up to three raises, meaning that the stakes could quickly rise to a large sum of money.
The dealer signaled that the game had begun, stopping any new entrant from attempting to join in.
With slick hand movements the dealer placed the cards into a machine and pressed a number of buttons.
After confirming to all at the table that the deck of cards had been officially cut, he gathered up the cards and slipped them into the card shoe and began the first hand.
First to be dealt a card was the suit, then counterclockwise to the cowboy, the Doctor, Balot, the old gentleman, and the potbelly, then repeating, so that they all ended up with two cards each.
The dealer’s button was in front of the suit, indicating that he would have been in the dealing position if there hadn’t already been a house dealer.
The cowboy to the left of him was the blind better for this hand. The blind was like the ante in normal poker and was more like a participation fee than an actual bet at this stage, as no one had anything to go on other than their hole, the first two cards.
The first blind bet was called the small blind, where the player could bet anything up to half the minimum bet. The cowboy threw in ten dollars.
Then it was the Doctor’s turn to respond with the big blind.
The purpose of the big blind was not just to call the small blind, but also to force a raise.
The Doctor raised the cowboy by twenty dollars.
From then on, the other players had to start off by throwing in the sum of the two bets—thirty dollars—in order to call and thereby stay in the hand. Or they could raise the stakes further, in thirty-dollar increments, or fold and drop out of the hand completely, losing any stake they had placed up to that point.
Balot’s two cards that she had been dealt—in the hole—were the ten of clubs, 10
, and the seven of spades, 7
. At this point in the game, twelve cards had been dealt to the players out of a total of fifty-two in the deck. She was third along from the dealer’s button.
It was a nothing hand, the sort of hand you should fold on immediately. Even Balot knew this. Hold’em was one of the games that Balot had beaten into her last night in the Humpty.
But Oeufcoque signaled differently.
–You should call.
Balot felt the instructions float up on her left hand. She picked up a thirty-dollar chip.
–Thirty dollars—I’d like to call.
She placed the chip on the table.
The old gentleman called too, and the potbelly quickly folded.
Last to go was the suit who held the dealer’s button. He called, then raised by another thirty.
The cowboy and the Doctor called.
Balot followed Oeufcoque’s instructions and called.
The old gentleman called.
There were no more raises. There was now $280 in the pot on the table.
The first round of betting was over, and the dealer discarded the first card in the card shoe. The burn card, an anti-cheating measure. A standard step taken to eliminate the possibility of any player gaining an unfair advantage by marking the cards.
Then the dealer placed three cards facedown in the center of the table. Community cards, called the flop. It was now time for the second round of betting.
The dealer turned each of the flop cards over.
K
, 8
, and 2
.
At this point, Balot had no pairs and no chance of a flush.
A straight was still possible, using the ten, eight, and seven, but Balot didn’t know what the odds were of that happening.
The second round of betting started with the blinds: the cowboy put in thirty dollars, which the Doctor called, as did Balot on Oeufcoque’s instructions.
At this point the old gentleman folded, placing his cards facedown on the table.
The suit, on the other hand, called, and then raised by another thirty. No one folded, and by the time they were back at the suit, the pot had swollen from its original $280 to $520. Balot suddenly thought of what she would have had to do in her previous line of work in order to make that much money. The thought made her sick.
She knew that she would struggle to walk away from the hand now. She didn’t want to know what Oeufcoque had planned.
It seemed that Oeufcoque was ruminating deeply. As to the identity of the mechanic. She realized that he might not even be bothered by the actual outcome of this hand.
The third round commenced.
The dealer discarded the burn card again, then revealed the fourth community card.
The turn card, it was called, the penultimate community card. It was J
. Balot jumped unconsciously.
She now had the jack, ten, eight, and seven; if the next card was a nine she’d have a straight.
She sensed that Oeufcoque was working out the next card using something beyond human perception.
If not, and he was just forcing her to call regardless, he was a rank amateur.
Or was he just trying to get her to act as if she was?
The cowboy started off with a thirty-dollar bet, which the Doctor called.
–Raise by sixty dollars.
The words floated up on her hand—she could feel them clearly, but still she had to check a number of times to convince herself that this was right.
–I’ll call the thirty dollars and raise an additional sixty, please.
She placed the chips down. Balot now had a total of $210 riding on this hand.
She saw visions of all her winnings from the slot machines disappearing in an instant, and she felt a pang of fear.
The suit called her sixty and raised another sixty. The cowboy called, and the Doctor did the same. It was Balot’s turn again.
–Raise by sixty.
This was the instruction she was given. It was do or die. She had no idea why she had to go in so strong in the very first hand. Balot called the sixty raised by the s
uit. Then she raised herself, bringing her total contribution to the pot to $330.
The suit showed not a moment’s hesitation. Indeed, he went on to re-raise himself.
The cowboy called—and, incredibly, raised again.
At this point the Doctor checked. A special move permitted from the third round of betting onward in which the player chooses to stay in the game without betting any more money at this stage. Balot became acutely aware that it was up to her now, and when the instruction came from Oeufcoque to call she actually felt relieved. She’d been worried he was going to make her raise again. She paid the $120 to match the suit and the cowboy, making her total outlay to this point $450.
The suit called, and just when it seemed that betting for this round was over,
“Raise.” It was the suit again. Returning fire, thorough and ruthless.
–Call.
So came Oeufcoque’s orders. The cowboy called, as did Balot. $510, now.
The Doctor, however, folded, laying his cards on the table. Ho hum, he grumbled. But Balot was the one who sighed.
After the suit called again, the cowboy called too. Moreover, “Raise, sixty dollars,” he added.
Oeufcoque was telling her to call again. She obeyed. She was now up to $570.
The suit called, and finally the round was over. There was nearly two thousand dollars in the pot.
This stupid sum of money was about to flutter away like a paper plane.
The old gentleman and the potbelly, though both out of the hand, were watching the progress with deep interest.
The dealer discarded the burn card for the third time this hand, then revealed the river card, the fifth and final community card.
They were in the final round of betting.
Balot looked at it without thinking, and it was all she could do not to reveal her disappointment.
The card was 7
. She’d come this far, and in the end all she was left with was a pair of sevens. Or were the suit and cowboy both bluffing too, and did she have enough to beat them even with her weak hand?
Oeufcoque should be able to sniff out their bluffing in an instant, surely…
Right now, though, the cowboy was leisurely increasing his bet.
–Call.
Following Oeufcoque’s instructions, Balot threw another sixty in, trying to appear as disinterested as possible.
“I’ll see your sixty dollars and raise another sixty,” said the suit, and the cowboy called and re-raised.
–Call…
Balot stuck in another $120 to call, but then she realized Oeufcoque’s instruction was not yet complete, and he was finishing it now:
–Call…then raise sixty dollars.
Balot’s stomach was churning, but she knew that she had to go along unquestioningly or else she would arouse the suspicion of those around her. Furrowing her brow without even realizing it, Balot raised again. An outlay of $180.
The suit glanced at Balot. “Call, and raise sixty dollars,” he said calmly, laying his chips on the table.
Teeth bared, the cowboy called and then raised again.
Oeufcoque’s next instruction was abrupt.
–Fold.
Balot’s hand—already holding the chips required to call—stopped suddenly. This was nonsense. Completely at odds with what she’d been doing up till now. I could at least check for now, she thought, knowing that it wouldn’t have cost her any more to stay in the game for the time being. But, with the greatest of reluctance, she laid her cards down on the table.
–Fold.
A broad smirk broke out across the cowboy’s face. A most disagreeable smile, as if he were coercing someone to do something against their will. Then he turned to square off against the suit.
The suit, on the other hand, called with a breezy tone and raised again. The cowboy growled, called for the last time, and then the betting was over and it was time for the showdown.
The suit was the last to raise, and he revealed his hand first.
K
and 2
. Two pairs, kings over deuces. There was no bluffing involved with this hand. Had either the turn or the river card revealed a king or a deuce, he would have had a nearly unbeatable full house.
“Whoa,” the cowboy exclaimed. He threw his cards down, revealing his hand.
K
and 8
. The same hand—two pairs—but his was higher. The cowboy reached out and dragged the pot toward himself. Like a dog at dinnertime.
The dealer was just starting to collect all the cards when the Doctor tapped Balot on her shoulder.
“So, what sort of hand did you have, then?” he asked her, loudly.
An unthinkable question under normal circumstances. And it was the Doctor himself who had impressed upon her in training that there was nothing that gave your opponents the upper hand more than revealing your cards unnecessarily—they’d learn to read you like a book. Yet here the Doctor was, brushing Balot’s hand away as she tried to protect the cards from his reach. He flipped them both over for all to see.
“Ah, I see what you were doing. Going for the straight, eh? A little too ambitious with a hand like this, though. You really should have folded at the start, you know.”
He didn’t really need to tell her this, of course, and she shrank up into a ball.
On the other side of the table the cowboy burst out laughing. His mood couldn’t have been better.
Nor did the other players make a secret of the fact that they were digesting Balot’s hand and its implications. The full extent of her inexperience and lack of skill was now clear for all to see.
“You know, it’s a real shame—if only I’d been as bold as you…” the Doctor continued, flipping over his own hand just before the dealer got to it.
2
and 2
. Three of a kind! The cowboy’s eyes widened, and the other players looked on, the scene clearly making a great impression on them.
Rock—the name given to the type of player who bets prudently, even on a strong hand. In this instance, the description fit the Doctor perfectly. But wasn’t it the Doctor himself who had taught her that excessive caution could be just as much a cause of defeat as recklessness? The other players surely now saw him as a godsend of an opponent, just like Balot, but for entirely different reasons. Balot was about to forget herself and say something to him, but then the Doctor winked. Quickly and discreetly, so that no one else would have noticed. Balot understood that his actions weren’t entirely without cause.
Balot made a sulky face as they proceeded on to the next game.
Part of her was acting, of course, on cue. But there was another part of her that really was sulking. Oeufcoque and the Doctor were still aiming to win—they just hadn’t shared any information with her as to how they planned to go about doing so.
≡
The card shoe containing a new deck was brought forward, and the second hand had begun.
Balot’s hand was Q
and 8
.
The dealer’s button had moved round, and the Doctor was now the blind better.
The first bet was ten dollars. Balot quickly raised, as she had to, and the calls went round the table.
The cowboy seemed to have acquired a taste for winning—he was the only one to raise, anyway—and the potbelly folded from the outset, just as in the previous hand. The calls finished, and the three flop cards were turned over.
5
, 8
, Q
. There was another round of calling and raising, and the suit, seemingly tired out by being pushed to the wire on the previous hand, folded.
They moved into the third round of betting, and the turn card was revealed.
It was K
. Balot’s heart skipped a beat. She realized that she had the chance of making a club flush, even if she might be hoping against hope at this late stage in the game.
Even if she didn’t make it, she would still be left
with two pairs, queens over eights. She thought about the eight hundred she had just lost and realized that this was her chance to turn things around.
–Fold.
Such was the instruction she eventually received, but only after the old gentleman raised after her call and the cowboy’s raise… Disappointed, Balot placed her cards down. The writing in the palm of her hand subsided, and the active players finished their calls, moving the hand on to the final round.
The fifth card, the river, was A
. Balot was thrown into deep confusion.
The flush was now complete. Including the money she’d lost on this hand, she was now down by well over a thousand dollars. The only explanation she could think of was that she was somehow supposed to be playing in a nonsensical manner.
And, sure enough, that was the case.
The Doctor ended up folding in the final round, leaving the cowboy and the old gentleman to fight it out.
The old gentleman raised, and the cowboy saw and raised him. This process repeated a number of times.
The cowboy was now well into the game, totally absorbed, passionate.
The old man, on the other hand, remained composed, lining up his chips in an orderly fashion.
The betting came to a close. Showdown, and the old gentleman led by revealing K
and K
. Three of a kind. A strong enough hand in Hold’em.
Snap—the cowboy suddenly flung his cards to the table with a flourish.
At first Balot thought that he must have thrown his cards down out of frustration that he had just lost, but she was wrong.
Teeth bared, the cowboy laughed coarsely and declared his hand.
A
and A
—that was what was in the hole for him. Three of a kind, aces. The cowboy had won. This pushed the cowboy’s winnings to just shy of four thousand dollars.