by Louis Sachar
"So the lawyer just called you up to say you weren't getting anything?" asked Leslie. "That doesn't make sense."
"Well, it wasn't exactly nothing," my mother admitted. "We got the same as every other relative. What did Mr. Johnson call it? A fresh start."
All my parents' debts would be paid off, including credit cards, car loans, and even the mortgage on our house. In addition, all of my and Leslie's future college expenses, including room and board, would be paid for.
"If we had known," my father said, "if you had talked to him like you were supposed to do, then we could have borrowed more money."
I didn't know a lot about my parents' finances, but it was my guess that their credit cards were already maxed out.
"Can't you borrow the money now?" Leslie asked.
"No, it's whatever our debts were at the time of his death," my mother explained. "We have to provide documentation."
"What about the pool?" Leslie asked.
The estate would pay for the amount we owed for the work already done, but not to complete the job.
My father complained that some of our other relatives lived in bigger, more expensive houses, with bigger mortgages, and that others had more kids who would go to college.
I remembered something Trapp had told me once about his bridge-bum days. Even though he had had very little money, those days were the happiest of his life.
He told me that the secret of success was to never spend more than you had. "Don't use credit cards. Don't owe anyone money." Once you go into debt, he had said, you lose your freedom.
Trapp's donations to various charities included a huge chunk of change for animal welfare groups and another for Seeing Eye dogs. He also set up a fund to teach bridge in schools. The fund would pay for a bridge teacher for any school that wanted to start a bridge club.
"But don't think all the time you spent with him was for naught," my mother said sarcastically. "He also left something just for you, Alton. A book!"
I didn't think my time with him had been for naught. Like my mother had once said, it was for the joy of spending time with my favorite uncle. My only regret was that it didn't last longer, at least until after the nationals.
The book arrived by special courier the following day. Maybe, like me, you thought it would be a bridge book. I was wrong. It was his 1945 hardbound copy of Cannery Row.
The dust jacket was torn and felt brittle when I rubbed my fingers over it. It was blue-black with a dreamlike oval picture of an industrial waterfront. The title was written in yellow script above the picture, and the author's name, John Steinbeck, also in yellow, was printed below.
Trapp and Annabel had each held the book I was holding. I opened it and started reading the same pages they had read.
54
Transfer Bids
Of all the bids Toni e-mailed to me, the most confusing was something called a Jacoby transfer bid.
It works like this: if your partner opens one no-trump and you have five or more cards in a major suit (hearts or spades), you don't bid that suit. Instead, you bid the suit ranked just below it.
So if your partner opens one no-trump and you have five hearts, you bid two diamonds. Your partner is now supposed to bid two hearts. That's why it's called a transfer bid. You're transferring the bid to your partner.
If you mess up and bid two hearts by mistake, there's no recovering. Your partner will think you are transferring to spades.
A Jacoby transfer bid is tricky because you bid a different suit than the one you mean. If you bid diamonds, it means you have hearts. If you bid hearts, it means you have spades.
I was beginning to understand how Trapp and Wallace had ended up in five diamonds that time when Trapp was void in diamonds. Expert partnerships use all kinds of complicated bidding systems. Like trapeze acrobats without a net, they need to be perfectly in sync or face disaster.
I picked Toni up at her house. As we drove to the bridge studio she asked me if I understood transfer bids.
"No problem," I assured her.
She seemed doubtful. "If you forget, that's okay," she said. "It's just one board. Trapp always said the best way to learn a new bidding system is to screw it up a few times."
I was actually encouraged by her lack of confidence in me. If she was willing to let me screw it up until I got it right, then maybe she didn't see this as just a onetime thing.
"So how'd you like the movie?" I asked.
"What movie?"
"I heard you and Cliff went to a movie."
"No," she said. "Who told you that?"
I considered mentioning Katie but decided against it.
"I think it might have been last week," I said.
"We never went to a movie," Toni said, and for a moment I grew hopeful that maybe I had been wrong about Cliff and Toni. But just for a moment.
"We went to a party at the country club," she said, "if that's what you're thinking about."
"I guess that's it," I said.
"It was so lame!" she added. "I had to wear this stupid poodle skirt, and every song sounded like ‘Rock Around the Clock.' I don't get why people think the fifties were so great."
"I know what you mean," I agreed, once again allowing myself some hope.
"Cliff hated it too," said Toni. "So we left and ended up just taking a walk around the golf course. That was really nice. There was a full moon, and there were like all these scary shadows everywhere."
I could imagine. I could imagine way too much. I tried to get my mind back on bridge. Two diamonds is a transfer to hearts. Two hearts is a transfer to spades.
At the bridge studio, we asked for table three, North-South. Trapp's table.
I sat in my usual spot, only this time I had no chair to my left and slightly behind me.
"Feels weird, doesn't it?" asked Toni.
"Very," I agreed.
Two women joined us, taking the East-West seats. They smiled sadly at me, and said how sorry they were to hear about my uncle. I thanked them. They tried to engage me in conversation about him, but I just gave one-word answers to their questions. I was glad when the game got started.
We began with board five. I opened one spade, and the next thing I knew I was the declarer in a four-spade contract. I went down one trick, because I didn't realize my ten of diamonds was good. I knew the ace, king, and jack were gone, but I didn't remember seeing the queen.
"Sorry, partner," I said, "I guess my game's a little off today."
"No sorrys allowed," said Toni.
In the back of my mind I heard Trapp ask, "And when has your game ever been on?"
These were my cards for board six:
Toni opened one no-trump, East passed, and I had to make a decision. Do I pass or bid two hearts?
My hand was totally useless unless hearts were trump. But if I bid two hearts, then I'd have to take eight tricks. If I passed one no-trump, Toni would be the declarer, and she would only have to take seven tricks.
Still, a heart contract seemed right, so I reached for the 2 bid.
I suddenly heard Leslie's voice screaming at me inside my head. "Stop! Two hearts is a transfer to spades. You have to bid two diamonds!"
I caught myself just in time. I set the 2 bid on the table and hoped that was right. I actually felt my heart pound as I waited to see what Toni would do.
West passed. Toni didn't even hesitate. Out came the 2 bid.
I came that close to screwing up the Jacoby transfer bid. At the last second, I heard Leslie's voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me to remember.
Everyone passed, East made her opening lead, and I tabled the dummy.
Toni looked at my cards and smiled. "Thank you, partner," she said, sounding as if she meant it.
Would you believe it? She actually made an overtrick.
I felt great. It was like an assist in basketball. I passed Toni the ball, and she slam-dunked it.
55
Post-mortem
The round was called. The b
oards were passed to the next lower table, and the people moved up a table. Our new East-West opponents told me how sorry they were to hear about my uncle.
I thanked them and quickly removed the cards from the South slot.
My hand was worth seven points: two for the Q, three for the heart void, and two for the singleton club.
East passed, and I was about to do the same when I heard Trapp say, "Four spades."
I stopped in midreach.
I need to explain something here. Earlier, when I told you I heard Leslie screaming at me to bid two diamonds, that was only because she had helped me study. I associated her voice with the bids. And before that, when I told you I heard Trapp ask, "And when has your game ever been on?", well, that was my attempt at being clever in a self-deprecating sort of way.
This was different. I heard Trapp say "Four spades." It was as if he were sitting to my left, slightly behind me. Maybe heard is the wrong word. I perceived it.
One thing I had learned as his cardturner was to never let my emotions show. My heart might have stopped for a few seconds, and my brain was doing backflips, but I simply took a breath, then reached into the bidding box, removed the 4 card, and set it on the table.
The guy on my left looked at me like I was crazy. I couldn't have agreed more.
He doubled.
Toni thought awhile, and for a second I was afraid she was going to redouble, but she just passed, as did everyone else.
The opening lead was the ace of hearts. I tried to gather my thoughts and concentrate on the bridge game.
As Toni set down the dummy, I hoped she'd have the ace or king of spades, preferably both.
She had neither. She was void in spades.
Opening lead: A
"Thank you, partner," I managed.
I told Toni to play the 3, and then I trumped it in my hand with the 2, winning the trick.
Now what? I thought.
"Queen of spades," said Trapp.
That would have been my last choice. The queen of spades was sure to lose to the ace or king. I would be throwing away the only high card in my hand.
I led the Q. Sure enough, West played the K.
I won't go through the rest of the hand. Maybe you can figure out how to take ten tricks. I did, apparently.
Four spades, doubled, was worth 790 for us.
"I guess I shouldn't have doubled," grumbled West. "All I had was a twenty-three-point hand, including the ace and king of trump!"
Trapp told me what card to play, and I played it. I'd done it a thousand times before.
56
Welcome to My World
Toni and I came in first place with a 70 percent game. You'd think we would have been all excited, but Toni and I barely said a word to each other the whole time. I mostly felt overwhelmed, and more than a little scared. I got more and more scared as we continued to get one top board after another.
Throughout it all, Toni remained grim-faced. I knew Trapp and Gloria never acted too gleeful when they got a top board. It's considered rude, since it means your opponents just got a bottom board. But Toni took it to the other extreme. As she recorded our scores, she seemed angry.
We walked silently out to my car. I turned on the engine while Toni stared straight ahead.
"You played really good," she finally said. "I just wish . . ."
"What?" I asked.
"All I wanted to do was play bridge. Is that asking too much?"
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, not at you. At her!"
I didn't have to ask who "her" was. Trapp couldn't get a 70 percent game all by himself.
"Well, at least you had a good partner," she said bitterly. "I guess you can win as long as you're not stuck with me!"
I stared at the road.
"I know you don't believe it's my grandmother," she said. "You think I'm crazy. You think it's my subconscious or something psychological."
"I believe you," I said.
The traffic light ahead of me turned yellow. I sped up, thinking I could make it, and then changed my mind and had to slam on the brakes at the last second.
"Sorry," I said.
"It's not your fault," said Toni, thinking my "sorry" had been about the bridge game. "She just took over."
I wanted to tell her about hearing Trapp, but oddly, I didn't think she'd believe me. I was afraid she'd think I was just trying to make her feel better, or worse, mocking her.
"Turn left," said Trapp.
That wasn't the way to Toni's house.
"Maybe you're right," said Toni. "Maybe I should start taking my meds."
I had never said that.
"Left," Trapp repeated.
I put on my left-turn signal.
It occurred to me that my dead uncle might be telling me to turn in order to protect me. Maybe he somehow knew if I continued heading the way I was going, I'd get in some horrible accident. No doubt involving a piano truck.
The light changed to green and I turned left.
"Where are you going?" Toni asked.
"Shortcut," I said.
At the next stop sign Trapp told me to turn left again.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Toni asked. I didn't answer.
"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked.
There was a turnout on the side of the road. I pulled into it.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
I took a breath and looked her straight in the eye. "I think maybe I should be the one taking your meds," I said.
She stared back.
"I wasn't Annabel's partner today," I said, and was surprised by the trembling in my voice. "Trapp was." I felt my eyes start to water. "I just turned the cards for him, like always."
"Oh, God," Toni whispered.
I was crying. It was as if all the emotions that I'd kept bottled up at the bridge studio were leaking out of me.
"And now he's giving me driving directions," I said through my tears. "I don't know where we're going."
My hands were very cold. I hadn't noticed until I felt Toni's warm hands wrap around them.
"Welcome to my world," she said.
57
Ninety-three, Ninety-one
I took a few deep breaths, gathered myself together, and pulled back onto the road. I offered to ignore Trapp's driving directions and just take Toni directly home, but she said she was willing to go "wherever the wind took us."
At the signal he told me to turn right.
Toni remained silent, lost in her own thoughts, but then she suddenly laughed and said, "I guess I should have figured it out when you kept making your contracts!" Then she said she was sorry, and gave my wrist a pat.
"No, I know," I assured her.
When we reached Cross Canyon Boulevard, our destination became clear to me. "We're going to his house," I informed my passenger.
I received no more instructions for the remainder of the trip. A short while later, I pulled into his driveway, and Toni and I climbed out of the car.
When I was six, my uncle's house had seemed like a castle to me. As I stared at it now, with its massive stone walls and bolted shutters, it seemed that way again.
"Now what?" Toni asked.
I had no clue. "Do you know who owns this house now?" I asked.
"I think it's in probate."
"What does that mean?"
Toni shrugged as she blew a stream of air out of the corner of her mouth. "It's just a word I've heard a lot," she admitted.
We slowly approached the front door. She took hold of my arm and whispered, "What if Trapp and Annabel are in there?"
I froze.
"I'm kidding," Toni said with a laugh, then added, "I think."
I tried the door, but it was locked. I was about to ring the doorbell but changed my mind. It seemed more appropriate to use the goat's-head knocker.
We took a few steps back and waited. Nothing happened. I rang the doorbell. Still nothing.
"Has Annabel said anything to you about thi
s?" I asked.
"This is your hallucination, not mine," Toni replied, smiling.
I backed away from the door. A stone wall surrounded the house. If I could climb it, I thought, I could try the back door, or maybe I'd find a secret entrance.
"Ninety-three, ninety-one," said Trapp.
"Ninety-three, ninety-one," I repeated.
"What?" asked Toni.
"He just said, ‘Ninety-three, ninety-one.' "
Neither of us could remember Trapp's address. I had used it the first time to get to his house, but that had been over a month ago. There were no numbers posted by the door.
I walked the length of his driveway to the mailbox. It was numbered 621.
It occurred to me that maybe I wasn't supposed to go to his house after all. I hadn't perceived any more driving instructions from him since I'd turned onto Cross Canyon Boulevard. I had just assumed this was the destination.
I looked around. There were only a few other houses on the street. It seemed pretty doubtful that Trapp's address could be 621 and another could be 9391.
I got an idea. I went to my car and retrieved my cell phone. I pressed 9-3-9-1, then Send.
Nothing.
Toni came up beside me. "Do you know the right area code?" she asked.
I hung up.
"What would you have done if he'd answered?" she asked.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked.
She smiled. "For once in my life, I'm not the one who's crazy!"
I returned to the front door and tried it again.
"Is it still locked?" Toni asked from the driveway.
"You got any better ideas?"
A look of realization crossed her face. She hurried to the garage.
A keypad was attached to the side wall. By the time I got there she had already entered the first two numbers. I watched as she pressed the nine and then the one.
Nothing.
"They probably turned off the electricity," I said.
She pressed the star key. I heard the low rumble of a motor, and then the garage door slowly rose.
There was no way my subconscious mind would have known the code to his garage door opener—at least, none that my conscious mind could think of.