by Jason Heit
Bernhard reached deep into his coat pocket. He fished out a rust-coloured flask, removed the plug, and took a nip. Capping the flask, he returned to his pocket and pulled out a wad of grimy paper and coin mixed with bits of grain and straw.
“He’s got money,” Gerein said. “Deal the cards, Joseph.”
There were five of us at the game now and I dealt us each two cards and a third face up as I told Bernhard the rules. Gerein set his pocket cards face down on the table. “Low card pays a penny. That’s you, Stolz.”
Stolz flicked a penny toward the centre of the table. “That’s just on the first round,” he said to Bernhard. “High card leads after that.”
The rest of us followed along and put a penny in the pot. I dealt each player another card. The ace of diamonds, the high card, went to Gerein, and he tossed a pair of pennies into the pot. Bernhard called and so did the rest of us.
Another round passed. Everyone checked. It seemed no one had much of anything. Bernhard took another nip from his bottle. I got a whiff of it. It was a fierce drink.
On the next round, I paired my eight and raised the pot a nickel. Stolz folded, then Jakob. Gerein called with an ace-king showing; Bernhard called too. He had a mess of cards; I put him down for a head full of moonshine and a pocket pair.
“That’s a lot of money, Bernhard,” Jakob said. “Maybe you should save some for your daughter.” It was a low blow, but I figured he wasn’t the only one who’d thought it.
“I’ll do as I please,” Bernhard said. “Just like any other man.”
“Leave him alone, Feist,” Gerein chirped. “At least until the hand is done.” Stolz and I smiled; it was typical form for Gerein. Jakob huffed and pushed his chair back from the table, while Bernhard took another pull from his flask.
I tossed one last card to Gerein, Bernhard, and myself. Face down. I looked to my card. King of clubs. It paired my king in the hole, leaving me with two pair – kings and eights. I tossed another nickel into the pot.
Gerein called my nickel and raised his bid a dime.
Bernhard grunted. “I don’t know what I got here.” He looked to Gerein and then to me. “I get so I don’t remember the last thing I looked at sometimes,” he said. Then he pushed his cards in. “I fold.”
Jakob snickered. He seemed to be enjoying Bernhard’s misfortune.
“All right, Gerein. What’d you get?” I mumbled to myself. I was pretty sure he didn’t make his straight, he might’ve paired his ace, but mostly I figured he was trying to bluff me. So, I called his raise.
He laughed a sad kind of laugh. “I was hoping I could scare you off.” He turned over his cards. He had nothing but the ace-king high.
I flipped over my pair of kings and raked in the pot.
“Did you get that on the last card?” asked Stolz as he collected the cards.
“Maybe I did.” I smiled.
Jakob pulled his chair up to the table. “I was going to say earlier,” he looked over to Bernhard, “before we got distracted, you aren’t the only one getting letters from distant family. We’ve been getting some from Annaliese’s family too, now that her father’s died.”
“Where are they?” Gerein asked.
“Back on the steppe.”
“They want money?” I asked.
“They’re not so fussy. They’ll take money, old clothes, whatever we can send them.”
“It’s hard everywhere.” Stolz pursed his lips and shuffled the cards.
“Yeah, but these Bolsheviks steal land from hard-working farmers,” Jakob added.
“I should’ve stayed in the old country,” Bernhard said. “I was old enough.”
“I wish you would’ve,” Jakob muttered.
“What’s that?” Bernhard said, raising his voice. “You gotta speak up to me. I got this ringing in my ears ever since your father took a baseball bat to the back of my head.”
“Shut your rotten lying mouth,” Jakob said, firing spittle from his mouth. “My father ain’t the one who harmed you.”
Bernhard groaned. “You expect me to believe that.”
“He told me so. On his deathbed.”
Bernhard shook his head. “He had the opportunity.”
I looked around the table: Stolz was fixed on the cards; Gerein was shaking his head, staring at the table; Jakob huffed and stared right back at Bernhard. I knew what they were thinking. Bernhard might’ve forgotten, but no one else who was there that day could forget the fireworks that Bernhard had started that afternoon. I prefer to think of the other fireworks show that day; the ones I set off and painted the evening sky with. Anyhow, Bernhard looked to me and said, “You were there, Joseph. Didn’t you see something? I don’t remember none of it.”
“You upset a lot of people that day.”
“See?” Jakob said.
“Can we stop reliving the past and get back to our game already,” Gerein said.
“Yeah, yeah.” Stolz started shooting cards out like a smooth machine, each one stopping just where you wanted it to be. The cards went out two down and one up, just as neat as anyone could make them.
Gerein threw in his penny and Bernhard matched it, so did Jakob and me.
Stolz folded. “This ain’t my hand.”
“You just keep tossing them pretty like you do,” I told him.
He gave me a wink and tossed out the next round. It was an ugly mess. I checked, although my jack was the highest card showing. Then Jakob tossed in a pair of pennies.
“Feeling rich,” Gerein said. “I call.”
Bernhard threw in his coin. I looked at his cards. He had a five of diamonds and a two of spades. I had to wonder if he knew well enough how to play or if he was just going along with the rest of them. Apart from the odd flash, there wasn’t much of his old spirited self. That knock to the head changed him, but it seemed there was more than just the effects of the injury haunting him. He looked tired to me. Worn out.
I threw in my pair of pennies and Stolz dealt us each a card.
“Have you seen Elisabetha lately?” I asked Bernhard.
He sat quiet.
Stolz looked around the table at the cards he’d dealt. “Four spades.” I looked around and it was as he called it – he’d dealt us each a spade. “And for my next trick, I’ll deal you each an ace.” He laughed.
“Your bet, Feist,” Gerein said, trying to hurry up the game. Jakob raised a pair of pennies, and Gerein folded.
“Don’t you believe me? I’m going to deal you an ace,” Stolz teased.
“No, I don’t,” Gerein replied.
Bernhard called Jakob’s raise. “I ain’t seen her in a month…maybe two,” he said, slowly like he was trying to think each word out. “It’s hard to remember time. Besides I ain’t much good to her right now.” He took another pull from his bottle.
I shook my head at his words. It was a pitiful shame to hear a father talk like that. I looked over at Jakob Feist. He was shaking his head and I could tell he was biting his tongue. I figured he might believe the guy was owed some hardship, but I knew he wasn’t one to go on beating a dead horse.
“It’s your play, Joseph,” Stolz said.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I was just thinking.” And tossed two pennies in the pot.
Stolz dealt again. The first card to Jakob was an ace of hearts. “What did I say?” said Stolz, laughing. “Shoulda stayed in the game, Gerein.”
“Ah, that’s just one.”
He threw a queen of spades to Bernhard.
“See?” Gerein said.
“Sorry Bernhard, but maybe that lady’s better for you. Chasing the flush?” Bernhard grunted noncommittal-like, and Stolz sent me an ace of clubs. “Ha,” he said. “Damn near.”
Jakob looked at his cards. He had an ace-king high on the table. “Scheisse,” he said. I figured, he was wo
rried about that spade flush Bernhard was chasing. “I check.”
“Check,” Bernhard said.
I checked too.
Stolz dealt us the final card face down. Jakob snickered when he picked up his card. I couldn’t tell by that snicker if he’d made something or missed it by a fraction; as for Bernhard, I couldn’t see any light in his eyes when he picked up his card. There was no telling what he might be thinking. I wondered whether he was still with us, or maybe floating in a dream somewhere. As for myself, I picked up the nine of clubs, which paired the nine I had on the table. It was something.
It was Jakob’s bet. He tossed his nickel without saying a word. Bernhard looked at him and tossed a nickel. It clanged with the other coins. Then he tossed in another.
“One of you has something more than me,” I said. “I fold.”
“You going to call?” Stolz asked Jakob.
Jakob sat there looking at Bernhard while Bernhard stared at his cards. “For some reason, I can’t help to think you’re fooling with me.” He eyed Bernhard a moment longer. “Maybe I’m wrong…”
But Bernhard just kept staring at his hand. It was heavy on spades. Apart from the one off suit, he had the queen, the two, and the seven of spades on the board.
“I’ll pay to know,” Jakob said. He tossed another nickel into the pot and flipped his cards. “Aces over eights.”
Bernhard turned over an ace and nine of spades. “Flush,” he said. Then he took a nip from his flask and pushed his cards away.
“Good hand,” Gerein said.
“Did you make it on the river?” Jakob asked.
“I can’t hardly remember,” Bernhard said. “Probably.”
“Do you believe him?” Jakob said. He wasn’t smiling.
“I don’t think he’s lying if that’s what you’re getting at.” Gerein grinned mischievously.
Bernhard sat there not paying attention to Jakob or any of us, really. I pushed the pot toward him.
“Frank had a good year farming that quarter you left him,” I said to Bernhard, trying to engage him. It was like talking to an old deaf aunt. “He’s going to drill a new well and build a wood-frame house in the spring.”
“I didn’t leave him no quarter,” Bernhard said. “Just gave him what was his.”
“Ha, that’s funny,” Jakob scoffed. “To hear you talking like that.”
Bernhard slammed his beaten old fist on the table. “You think I’m some lying cheating thief, but your father egged me on.”
“You always had a choice,” Jakob growled at Bernhard. “We didn’t. You put a burden on my family, split us apart, embarrassed us. My father wanted to get you back but he didn’t have the stomach for it. I wish I’d hit you over the head myself, wish I would’ve thought of it earlier.”
Bernhard closed his eyes. “Your blathering makes my head ring.” He shook his head, and when he finally opened his eyes he stared long and cold at Jakob. “You talk about a burden, but I got a curse on my head from you folk. Anything I ever wanted or loved is gone from me: my wife, my children, my memories, even my unborn child.” He paused as the tiredness came back to him. It seemed he only had enough fire left for the odd spark; he’d burned too much of it away. “I just want it to be over between us,” he said. “I’d have preferred to finish it with Kaspar, but he ain’t around no more to lift this damn curse, so you’ll have to do it.”
“Curse?” Jakob wagged his head.
“I say curse because that’s what’s it’s been to me.”
“You want me to wave my hands and lift your curse?”
“Play me for it,” Bernhard said.
Jakob laughed nervously. “Play you for a curse? You’ve been drinking too much, Holtz.”
“You win and I’ll give you that quarter of land your father wanted.”
I looked to Jakob and it seemed like those words hit him clean across the face and wiped away any smug thinking that had stained his mug.
“And if I win,” Bernhard continued, “you set me free from the curse.”
“That’s it?” Jakob asked. He sat back in his chair and played with his hat, twirling it on his finger as a slow and easy smile raised his cheeks. “I don’t even know how I’d go about lifting a curse.”
“You write it out,” Bernhard said. “And make it so the curse doesn’t pass on to anyone else, especially my Elisabetha.”
“That’s all you want?” Gerein interrupted. “Get him to throw in something – a hundred dollars, a bred mare – something.”
“Now you just stay out of it, Gerein,” Jakob said.
“Put in something,” Stolz encouraged.
“I don’t know if I trust him is the thing.”
“I don’t take no pride in the pain I caused you or your family, Jakob. It’s been on my shoulders for 20 years and I’m tired of living with it. I want it gone,” Bernhard said, then he turned to me. “Write it out, will ya, Joseph?”
There was a desperation in his eyes. I found a piece of paper and put down the words: I, Bernhard Holtz, do sign my quarter section of land to Jakob Feist.
“And I’ll sign it if you win,” he told Jakob. “But I expect as much from you.”
Jakob nodded. “Well, you get Joseph to write it up how you want it and I’ll sign it, if you win.”
“One hand?” Gerein asked.
Jakob looked to Bernhard. “Your choice.”
“One hand,” Bernhard said. “I win, the curse is gone.”
“You don’t want anything else?” I asked Bernhard. He was liable to forget such things.
“Don’t need no horse. Just keep it simple.”
“You agree?” I asked Jakob.
Jakob Feist looked at me and everyone else. “It’s always been about the land,” he said. And he handed the cards to Stolz to do the dealing.
I took another piece of paper and wrote: I, Jakob Feist, do relieve Bernhard Holtz and all his kin from the curse that was set upon him many years ago. And then I read it out loud. “How’s that sound?”
“It works,” Bernhard said.
“No one ‘set’ a curse,” Jakob said. “Scratch that out.”
“For what?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Something different.”
“Fell upon him,” Stolz said as he shuffled the cards.
“‘The curse that fell upon him many years ago’,” I said.
“That’ll do,” Jakob said.
“Bernhard?”
“It don’t matter.”
So I wrote it down as Stolz dealt them each two cards face down in that fancy way of his and tossed them each one more face up: a jack of clubs for Jakob and an eight of diamonds for Bernhard.
“You can flip them up,” Gerein said. “It won’t make no difference.”
Jakob stood up and flipped over his cards: four of spades and five of hearts. Bernhard turned his over too. Seven of hearts. Queen of hearts.
“This is going to be interesting,” Gerein said.
Stolz flipped two more cards. Jakob got the four of clubs and Bernhard the five of spades. Jakob clapped his hands.
“That’s a pair,” Gerein said.
“For him,” Bernhard said, sounding unsure of what had just happened.
“Yeah,” I said.
Next came a ten of hearts for Jakob and king of diamonds for Bernhard. Bernhard had the highest cards but was still behind that low pair. Then came a six of spades for Jakob and the queen of clubs for Bernhard pairing his queen of hearts.
“Wooee!” Gerein shouted. “Pair of queens, Bernhard.”
Jakob kicked the floor and shook his head.
“One more card,” Stolz said.
The room went quiet as an empty church. Stolz picked a card off the deck and tossed it to Jakob – the six of hearts.
“Yes,” Jako
b said. “That’s two pair for me.”
“Woo!” Gerein said. He was sweating over the cards more than the rest of us. We were all on pins and needles waiting to see what might happen. My guts were tied in knots. I was hoping Bernhard would win. All he needed was one to make another pair and his queens would win the hand. I had a soft spot for him and the suffering he’d endured. I couldn’t have imagined surviving it myself.
Bernhard stood up from his chair and slid it towards the table resting his weight on its back. The room took a breath as Stolz flipped the last card: two of clubs. Silence.
“Ain’t that something,” Stolz said.
“Yippee!” Jakob shouted.
“Sorry, Bernhard.” I said, and patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Hand me the paper and I’ll make my mark.” I gave him the paper and he signed it. Then he extended his hand out to Jakob Feist. “I’d be pleased if you shook my hand.”
Jakob looked at that big calloused hand, the one that had done more than its share of punching and emptying bottles of liquor, and gave it a firm shake. Then Bernhard took his bottle and hobbled his way down the stairs.
The room vibrated quietly as we waited for the sound of the door to close below us.
“Ain’t that the strangest thing,” Jakob said, once the door swung shut.
“What’s he going to do now?” Stolz asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. And I grabbed Bernhard’s money from off the table and hurried to catch him.
I caught him outside, across the street, taking a drink from his flask. Behind him the sun was lowering over the town, bathing the world in soft pink. It was like staring into a wild rose. I waited for him to finish his drink.
“What are you doing, Bernhard? Where are you going?”
“Yonder.” He nodded toward Main Street. “Eat something.”
“What are you going to do without your farm?”
“I’ll get by,” he said. “I’m glad to be rid of it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t, I suppose.” He looked hard into the sun then back at me. “I got a ringing in my ears and a headache I can’t even drink away.” He tapped his chest over his heart. “I got one lasting picture of my wife and daughter and it’s taken over every memory I’ve had of them. There ain’t nothing I remember of their faces but what I see in that picture.”