by M. D. Cooper
“No, men should not want to play with me?” Her eyes narrowed as they seemingly bored holes through Ben.
“That’s not what I —”
Ash and the old man blurted out laughing, the old man slapping the table with a hearty hand as they both looked at Ben with tears in their eyes from holding their laughter in for so long. “I’m just farking with you,” Ash said as she continued dealing the cards again. “Besides, if this old geezer can get me out of my clothes, maybe he deserves a show.”
“Challenge accepted, sweetheart,” the man said as he raised one eyebrow and stared up at Ben with a smirk.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” he said.
“Are you comfortable losing any chance you have with Chip’s being recycled?” The old man said dryly.
“No,” Ben replied.
“Then I suggest you sit down, shut up, and get to work.”
Annoyed, Ben sat down at the table across from Ash and picked up his cards. Sitting in the apartment wearing only his boxers was an uncomfortable situation, but it was also the most urgent thing he had ever done in just his skivvies. “What’s wild this time?”
“Sixes,” Ash replied.
The old man cleared his throat, tapping his cards on the table before he spoke, “you want to know something odd about Buck?”
“What’s that?” Ben asked.
“It should be no surprise that Buck is a cheater, and he has a habit of any time he’s afraid he’s going to lose, of saying a certain card will be the wildcard, and it seems that every time he does that he ends up drawing that card,” the man said.
“What are you trying to say?” Ash asked, the tone of her voice raised.
“I don’t know how I never saw it before, but he hires the dealers, and he has to have it worked out so that every hand is rigged in his favor when he calls for a wildcard. When he took everything from me, he said ‘deuces wild’ and that was the hand that took everything from me. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming then, because I’d watched him do the same thing to countless other people, always calling the wildcard and it miraculously appearing in his hand. He never said how he did it, or that it wasn’t just an incredible amount of luck, so perhaps whenever I was in the hot seat, I thought it could never happen to me. I was a fool for thinking that.
“Just something I started thinking about when Ben suggested a wildcard. If that’s the case, then it is not skill on his side, but a complex form of cheating.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ben said, slapping his cards down to the table. “He did the same farking thing to me—’deuces wild’—and that’s when I lost the Shistain.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest, partially because he was angry, but also because he was starting to get cold in the nippy apartment.
“Well, how do we combat somebody who cheats like that?” Ash asked, her brow furrowed as she shuffled the cards in her hand nervously.
The old man leaned back in his chair, pulling his whiskers in the same way Buck did at the poker table. “We have to find a way to beat him in his own game,” he said, “but short of kidnapping his dealer and shoving him in a closet somewhere, I have no idea how we can pull the rug out from under Buck.”
“You know, that is not a bad idea,” Ben said.
“What’s that?” The old man asked.
“Kidnapping his dealer and having Chip do it,” Ben answered.
“I didn’t suggest Chip do it,” the man replied.
“I know, but if you want to pull the rug out from someone, they have to be standing on it. Chip is employed by Buck, so if we can find a way for Chip to be able to deal the cards, then it would prevent Buck from gaming the system.” Ben said with a smirk that suggested he was mighty proud of himself for coming up with a tactic that could possibly work. Possibly being the operative word.
“I don’t know—what do you think?” Ash asked, looking at the old man as he frowned and tugged on his chin hairs.
“If we can make that happen, you might just have a real shot at kicking my brother’s ass.”
“So, I guess we should get a hold of Chip and let him know our plan,” Ben said, his lips curling into a smile about the possibility of getting even with Buck Rodgers and being able to save his friend.
“All right, let’s do it!” Ben and Ash looked at the old man, and the answer was on his face with a shit-eating grin.
Chap+er Nine
The rain poured, not unlike the storm when Ben crashed the scooter a week before. As they waited outside Buck’s “Palace” they became drenched. “It’s just like my brother to leave people waiting in the farking rain until it’s convenient for him to open the damn door,” the old man said as he wrapped his coat tighter around his body trying to stay warm.
“Yeah, I’ve meant to ask, what is your brother’s farking problem anyway?” Ben asked, the curiosity coursing through his veins just as fast as his blood despite the frigid temperature outside.
“Technically, he’s my half-brother. We share a father, but he has a different mother. My mother was his stepmom, and she treated him like shit. I had nothing to do with any of it, and it’s not like I could’ve helped him anyway, but I think he feels that taking her past aggression out on me will make up for the shitty childhood that we both shared. Honestly, she didn’t treat me much better,” he said, with a tinge of sorrow in his voice.
“Sorry to hear that,” Ash said. “My childhood was pretty shitty too.”
“Mr. Rodgers will be with you momentarily,” the woman on the other side of the door said. Her pixie cut and small frame made her look like a twelve-year-old boy in Ben’s opinion, but she wasn’t unattractive.
“Do you think maybe we could wait inside.” The old man asked, his voice shaky from being cold.
The woman turned her head, looking at someone or something hidden behind the door. “I’m sorry, please give us just a few more minutes,” she said, shutting the door in their faces and leaving them in the cold again.
“Mother farker,” Ben seethed. “If we don’t beat this asshole, I might just jump across the table and beat the shit out of him physically for being a farking douchebag,” he said.
“Calm down, son. It’s not that serious. Besides, the more time we’re out here, the longer it will take us to dry off and get ready for the game, giving Chip a little more time to carry out his end of the plan,” the old man said. “And if I’m not mistaken, timing is going to be everything.”
The door opened suddenly, and there stood Buck Rodgers with a fake grin on his face that looked painted on. “Old man, it’s great to see you. Why don’t you come in,” he said, shoving the door wide and allowing enough space for the three of them to traipse in.
“Don’t lie,” the old man said. “It makes you look fifteen years older.”
Buck looked sour, but he shifted as Ben looked at him, his eyes narrowing into slits. The hatred he felt for Buck Rodgers rivaled the way he felt for his asshole father. “Right,” Buck said as he closed the door behind Ash.
“Only thirteen and a half minutes in the rain, I expected the full fifteen just for dramatic effect,” Lon said indignantly. “I guess some things never change, do they?”
Buck groaned. “Don’t be such a Peggy Sue about it,” he chided. “I’m trying to operate a business, which means that business comes first. Of course, I don’t think you have much experience with that lately.”
Ben watched as Lon glared at his older half-brother, the hatred on his face revealing more of the hurt throughout the years than the man’s stories suggested. “Nope, and I have you to thank for that,” Lon replied, turning his back on Buck and continued into the large living room that doubled as the poker room when it was game time.
“I thought you would’ve let that go by now,” Buck said with no sound of remorse in his voice.
“Do you guys think you could chill out on your family reunion therapy session so we can discuss tonight’s game,” Ben said, interrupting the drama unfolding before him. “I kind of feel l
ike time is of the essence. That’s why we dropped everything to make this happen as soon as possible.”
Both men looked at Ben with similar expressions on their faces.
“I suppose time is of the essence. I planned on recycling your robot friend in the morning,” Buck replied. “Of course, I have no idea what took me so long to come to that decision, but I suppose it’s in your favor to have the opportunity to save him.”
Ben’s hands balled into a tight fist, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms at the thought of the bastard being so casual about recycling a robot. Ben understood robots were not human, but there was a personality behind Chip that made him truer than any human friend Ben had ever had.
“Well, I suppose we should be thankful for that,” Lon said. “It’s not every day you get to see how hospitable Buck Rodgers is.”
Ash cleared her throat, drawing attention from all three men. “I don’t suppose you have a place where I can dry off, do you?”
Buck stared at her for a moment with a curious look, “Who’s the girl?” he asked as he looked over at Ben. “A shopping partner, maybe? Based on your previous companionship, I didn’t suspect that you liked girls.”
“What the fark did you just say?” Ben shot back, pulling his hands from his pockets and imagining wrapping them around Buck’s neck and strangling the shit out of him.
Ash grabbed Ben’s arm, pulling him back, “Ben, don’t,” she warned. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”
Ben glared at Buck, his eyes narrowing and his heart pounding. “If we were out on the street, I would have something to get under his skin,” Ben hissed.
Buck seemed to welcome the threat with a smile. “Well, I’ll be damned if the kid doesn’t have a spine.”
“I’ve got more than that if you want to see it.”
“Oh, am I walking into something provocative?” Chip asked as he rounded the corner leading into the living room. All eyes fell on him as he sauntered over to the group with a seductive sway of his hips as if he was walking on a runway. Ben knew it was just an act, something to provoke Buck and to make the older man feel uncomfortable. It was funny enough to lower Ben’s blood pressure, though he fought to keep from smiling.
Buck shook his head, feigning disgust. “My God, does everything have to be a sexual innuendo with you?”
“When you say ‘innuendo’ it reminds me how much I want to be in you, you know,” Chip said, the pun falling flat and leaving him the only one smiling.
The fact Ben had said the same thing to Ash days before was not lost on him. “We need to work on your delivery,” Ben said dryly. At least when I said it, Ash laughed.
“Look, I don’t have time for this, so make yourself at home. Just don’t be too comfortable,” Buck said. “I have a few things to round up before the game starts. Give me about half an hour to get my affairs in order.” Without waiting for a response, Buck walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the long corridor leading away from the living room.
“I don’t like that guy,” Ben said, not trying to keep his voice down.
“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Ash replied. “That jerk didn’t even point me in the direction of a bathroom so I can try to dry off.”
“Come with me,” Lon said, gesturing toward a short hallway on the other side of the room. “The common people’s restroom is this way.” Ash followed Lon as they walked away, dripping rainwater onto the tile floor for some hapless servant of the devil incarnate to clean up later. But Ben couldn’t care less. If people are willing to work for this asshole, then they get what they deserve.
“So, I’m assuming you guys are ready for the game tonight?” Chip asked.
“Ash is, but I’m growing more nervous by the minute,” Ben replied.
Chip frowned. Lon had told Ben that the situation and been explained to Chip and he knew what was at stake. Sometimes silence is the best response, Ben thought.
“Hey, maybe if we can get you out of this asshole’s grip, we can take a trip somewhere,” Ben suggested, trying to sound hopeful.
Chip nodded his head. “I would really like that, Captain.”
Hearing Chip call him Captain felt like another stab in his heart as he remembered losing everything he had ever had, or wanted, to Buck Rodgers.
“Yeah? Well, let’s make that happen because I sure as hell don’t want to lose you, buddy,” Ben said.
For several moments, Ben and Chip looked into each other’s eyes without saying a word. But in the silence, everything left unspoken was said.
Chap+er Ten
Seated at the table where he had lost it all, Ben shifted his chair closer, nervously wiping his clammy hands on his pants’ leg. With his view of the cards in Ash’s hands, he grew increasingly paranoid that the game would not unfold in their favor. On the other side of Ash, Lon sat with his arms crossed, tugging on his beard hair as he glowered in Buck’s direction. Similarities between the two men were not lost on Ben, but he felt that Lon was the nicer of the two if that counted for anything. Of course, “nicer” was a relative term when he considered how many jabs the old man took in his direction, constantly putting Ben down in front of Ash.
“So, little lady, are you going to call it?” Buck asked from the other side of the table. He held his cards close to his body as he leaned forward, tapping the small deck onto the green felt of the tabletop. Ben noticed there was the shift in the man’s behavior his time around. Ever since the news that his dealer was unavailable and Chip had to take his place, the whistling that accompanied Buck’s confidence fell silent. Ben couldn’t help but hope that by crippling Buck’s ability to cheat at the game, that it would put Ash at an advantage. Looking at her small pile of chips, on the other hand, did just the opposite.
Ash shrugged and positioned herself in her seat to match Buck’s body language. Tapping her small deck of cards, she exhaled a large plume of vapor that looked eerily similar to the cigar smoke from Buck’s end of the table. “I would call it, but then I wouldn’t be able to raise you,” she said, reaching down and picking up two blue chips and placing them in the center of the table.
Buck snorted as he looked at her, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to read her mind. The small entourage of people surrounding him was not laughing, though. Part of Ben was thankful for that, although the deathly quiet of the room made him feel like he was in a hollow chamber, not unlike a coffin. He trembled at a chill running down his spine, but no one seemed to notice. All their attention was on Ash, where it belonged.
“Mrs. Brown just raised you fifty dollars, Mr. Rodgers. What would you like to do now?” Chip asked, his right hand hovering over the deck of cards for him to draw from. Chip did not look in Ben’s direction, but Ben had the feeling the robot was just as nervous as he was regarding whether Ash could pull off a win. Ben hated feeling defeated, but he couldn’t help it considering that the last time he was in this room he lost everything.
Buck tugged at his facial hair, twisting his beard into small curls around his finger before pulling his finger loose and starting again. “I’ll see you, and raise you another fifty,” he said.
Ben sucked in a deep breath of air, fighting back the urge to whimper at the devastatingly small pile of chips on their side of the table. Those blue, round pieces of plastic represented more than just money to Ben. They represented Chip’s life.
Ash nodded and shoved two more chips towards the center of the table, depleting her pile by half.
“So, what are you going to do now, Miss Thang?” Buck asked, his voice sounding creepily flirtatious and sickening to Ben’s ears.
“I’ll call it,” she said flatly.
A grin curled Buck’s lips as he eyed them.
How that man can look at each of us individually and as a group at the same time is really freaking me out, Ben thought as he shifted in his seat again, the chain attached to his wallet clattering against the wooden legs of the chair sounding louder to spite the cryptic silence of th
e room.
“Well then, why don’t you show them to me?” Buck said as he leaned forward, running his fingers along the corners of his mouth.
Ash placed the small stack of cards face up on the table, running her hand along them, fanning them out to reveal each one independently of the other.
Two pairs, Ben thought, basically nothing. The dual pair of fours and sixes sat impotently on the tabletop.
Buck snorted lightly, stopping himself, but making a show of it that was every bit as condescending as if he had belted it out loudly. “Well, that’s a little anticlimactic,” he said, slapping his cards onto the table and revealing three Queens.
“Congratulations, Mr. Rodgers, you win again,” Chip said with no inflection in his voice. Taking on the role as the dealer, Chip spoke in a tone void of emotion, sounding more like an android than any companion. It was unsettling for Ben, but he was sure Buck reveled in the lack of personality exuded by Chip.
“Thank you, Chip,” Buck said, mimicking the robot’s accent in a way that sounded more like a taunt than it did sincerity. It was another personality trait that Ben hated about the old man. His lack of sincerity made him that much more of a dick in Ben’s opinion.
Lon leaned close to Ash and whispered something in her ear that Ben could not hear. It made him more nervous knowing Lon called the shots regarding the game, further removing any of the power from Ben, even though if anybody other than Chip was going to lose from the outcome of the game it would be him.
“How about another hand, Mr. Rodgers?” Ash asked as she tugged at the collar of her shirt, revealing enough of her cleavage to get the old man’s attention.
That’s pretty low, Ben thought, but just as unwilling to avert his eyes as the grumpy old man across the table.
Chip looked in her direction as well, lifted an eyebrow as he made eye contact with Ben momentarily. That look said it all: that Ash was willing to bring the girls out to try and secure a victory. Is it really that much of a longshot?
Buck cleared his throat, tugging on his collar as he smiled sheepishly. “Baby girl, I’m always down for another game with you.” The creepiness of his voice speaking to Ben’s girlfriend made Ben want to dive across the table and cut out the old man’s tongue. When Ben looked at Lon, though, he saw the younger of the brothers was smiling, not with his lips, but with his eyes.