Purgatorium (14 page)

“I see you have an eye for fine art,” he says with so much class under tongue.

I take away my hand from my mask, leaving it on. I try thinking of something intelligent to respond back with but not knowing any art lingo leaves me silent.

Lisa responds for me, “Yes, he does. He was just telling me about Mr. Jacques Philippe Dawid.”

I look to Lisa not understanding why she just lied to him.

Ace puts his arms around me, “You know of the late Jacques Philippe Dawid work? Only a rare type of people know of his work. The man had a strong soul to live, very bright his artistic soul was. After his coma, people thought he had dropped that light. After many years of painting this Godly brilliance on a canvas, you know what he said after he unveiled it?”

I am lost with words.

He doesn’t hesitate. “My soul is not contained within the limits of my body. My body is contained within the limitlessness of my soul.”

He stops, gazing at the painting like it has put him in a trance as it did with me. A few seconds go by while Lisa and I wait impatiently.

Ace turns to me and continues, “You ready to step on into the ring? Or is this maybe a little too rich for you?” Ace asks, laughing and slapping me on the back. Ace turns, putting his arm around my shoulders, and gestures towards the medium-sized ornate room in front of us. Other than this table, there is a small, well-stocked bar in the corner of the room, but no bartender.

He walks Lisa and I to a glossy marble table where three other players are sitting—one with a Queen of hearts card in her jacket pocket and wearing a matching mask, another with a Ten of hearts card and mask, and a third with a King of hearts card and mask.
What should I do?
I think.

“Our Knave is here!” Ace screams to the group at the table. They all clap in excitement.

“He is also on fire tonight,” Lisa says sarcastically. She then pulls off a sexy wink towards me. Maybe I will stay for just one game, I decide.

Ace puts his arm around my shoulder. “Knave, meet the rest of the Royal flush!” He first points to the king and says, “This is the King of hearts. Tell La Hire all about yourself, my King.”

The King takes out a card from inside his jacket pocket. He reads, “My name is Charlemagne but I am also called the ‘suicide king’ because on my card’s portrait, my sword appears to be sticking into my head. This is a result of centuries of bad copying by English card makers where my axe head has disappeared.”

Ace claps with excitement. “Just wonderful!” He points to the Queen, whom is sitting on the left side of the table. “This beautiful mistress is our Queen of hearts.”

The Queen takes a long puff from her cigarette holder. The smoke is then released through the lips slit from her mask. She takes out a similar card from her purse and reads, “My name is Judith. I have been known by either the Biblical character or the wife of King Louis. But my favorite interpretation would be of the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland. Off with the crown, and with the crown, his head!” She laughs like how a fool would laugh.

He then points to the final person at the table. “And lastly this is Ten.”

The white masked man with the number ten on the side of it gets out an identical card. He reads, “I am just Ten?”

A moment of silence is then held for a few seconds. Everyone, including myself, just stares at Ten. Ten breaks the silence with a petty laugh, soon making everyone laugh with him.

Ace then stops and says, “As you have already been cleared and can already assume, no one here has given you their real story or names. The reason being, once again, to keep the privacy to an art. Try being someone else for a night adds a little fun mystery to the game at hand. And after tonight is over, our identities are kept hidden from everyone else and no one is of the wiser on who stole or won their money from whom.”

Ace turns to me. “Now my young Jack of hearts, what is your story?”

I look over to the group in a state of panic, not knowing what to say. I remember they all had cards in their personal attires. I bring my left hand inside my coat pocket, hoping that the card would be somewhere in one of them. Nothing in the left pocket.

Everyone stares at me as I try looking into my right pocket. I close my eyes, praying it is in there. I feel around in the right side of my pocket. After a few seconds, I begin to panic, digging my hand deeper inside of it. I watch them all staring at me, judging me.
They know I am a fake,
I think. I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have.

And then suddenly, I feel something! I take it out and see it’s the card! I hold it in view, reading the typed information that is shown.

“My name is La Hire. I am a French warrior who fought in the Hundred Years’ War and whom also fought beside Joan of Arc.”

I take my card and bring it down, letting me see the members’ reactions. A silence is heard for a couple of moments until they all at once start to clap. Ace releases me from his tight shoulder hug.

“Nice to have you here!” he says to the whole group. “I will, as you probably already know, be your Ace for the night. The Ace originally meant the side of a die with only one mark. Since this was the lowest roll of the die, it traditionally meant ‘bad luck’ but as the ace is often the highest playing card, its meaning has since changed to mean ‘high-quality, excellence’. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, mis what I am offering to you tonight! For only the price of ten thousand dollars! Which is chump change to all of you, I know. But after tonight, one of you lucky fools will leave here, one hundred thousand dollars richer!”

Everyone applauds, making me silently clap as I begin to panic, thinking about the buy-in charge. Ace shows me to my seat while continuing his speech. “Also a special little prize will go to the victor of the night.”

I sit down in the open chair, dropping my bag of playing chips onto the table. The dealer reaches over, takes the bag, opens it, and carefully removes and stacks the chips into neat piles in front of me.

Ace smiles. “I guess it’s time to start cooling him down, eh, boys?” The men laugh.

“That will be all, Lisa,” the King says, turning to her.

I reach up and quickly grab Lisa’s arm, pulling her down closer to me. I whisper in her ear, “Who are you?”

“I am the bartender,” she whispers back. She stands, smiles at me, and heads around behind the bar, where she begins making a cocktail.

The dealer is already shuffling the cards and the players are talking to each other casually, laughing and drinking.

“Before we get started,” I say, “perhaps another drink?”

“Certainly, sir,” the dealer replies, gesturing towards the bar.

“Look boys, I see La Hire might have caught the love bug,” the Queen states.

I stay calm and try to think of something that won’t give me away. “Sorry, boys and girls, but I am sadly married,” I say as I show them the ring.

The men laugh so hard they shake the table. The King says, “That’s a good one, La Hire!”

The Queen yells, “Too funny, La Hire.”

The Ten screams, “Bloody, classic, La Hire.”

I don’t understand why they are laughing until Ace says, “Cheaters always cheat. Am I right my fellow suits?!” He lifts his hand showing his wedding ring as well as the others. They are all married. I push my chair back, stand, and walk over to the bar. ‘Cheaters always cheat’ gets stuck in my head as I get in front of Lisa.

“You feeling lucky tonight, Jack?” Lisa asks coyly.

I can’t help but find her sexy. Nothing serious, just a little teasing, I say to myself. I look down at my ring and back up to see Lisa smiling seductively. She whispers to me, “Keep it on. It’s more fun that way.” I open my mouth to speak, but am interrupted by the dealer.

“Break’s over! Players return to their seats.”

Lisa winks at me. I walk back to the table and sit down. One of the men with his back to me sits in the corner, looking into a mirror and rubbing his face. I can only catch a glimpse of him before he puts his mask back on. He almost looks like…nah, it can’t be.

I feel weird. The man was vaguely familiar, almost as if I knew him from somewhere. He turns back to the table and I see the ace symbol across his mask.

The dealer shuffles the cards like a magician. Looking around, I remember they’re all wearing masks. No wonder no one seems as amazed at the dealer’s skill as I am. Each mask looks menacing, and I begin to wonder whether playing at this table was a good idea after all. Ten, Queen, King, Ace—including me, the Jack. A human-sized royal flush, I reflect.

The Ace sits back in his chair and says to us, “Gentlemen, tonight the game will be poker. Two round buy in. On the second round there will be no folding of your cards. You must play to win. Now if you win the first round, you have the right to leave or stay. If you win the second and final round, then the pot is yours and don’t forget the special little surprise that comes with it. Lastly, to go over the rules again with all of you. First, if you are a horrible loser, not only will you be thrown out of this fine establishment never to return, but badly beaten with a blackjack by the person who wins the whole pot in the end.”

Ace takes out a baton and shows it to everyone. He places it on the table and holds up the King of spades card. “We all heard about what happened to our King David when he lost his temper?”

He places the card on the table and hits it with the baton. Everyone sits there in silence, letting me know that David went home with some permanent injuries.

Second, if you try and cheat then I really shouldn’t have to repeat the penalties that will be coming towards you. As I always say, ‘Cheaters in the bed but never in your head.’”

All the players clap as I follow, unsure of what I really got myself into. Let’s see, I won $9,000 in the casino. That means I am going to have to put down money from my savings to cover the rest.

I look into my wallet and take out $1,000. I’m glad I stopped at the pawn shop before coming here, though I did promise myself I wouldn’t use it unless it was a sure thing. Bet big to win big. I keep repeating that to myself as the dealer begins to deal.

The cards are dealt and I look at my hand. I discard one card and signal for another. The dealer slides me a card. I carefully pick it up: King of clubs. I look at what I have, noticing I have a King of diamonds in my hand. I look at my pair of Kings, thinking there is no way I can win. Why didn’t I just stay in the casino? I can’t believe I actually thought I could win.

I look at my hand again and feel like there is one more card I can play. I could bluff. But I am already in the hole. I could just leave with my savings intact. Though when will I ever get a chance like this again? Without thinking, I go all in. Ten, Queen, and King immediately fold.

After a moment of tension, Ace goes all in. He went all in?! I can’t believe it. He called my bluff. I should have known he would. He is a thrill seeker. Money means nothing to guys like him. Just in it for the rush while poor guys like me fall right into his lap.

I turn my cards over and lay them on the table. “One pair,” says the dealer. Ace folds.

I won?
I think to myself. I won! I keep my excitement just as hidden as the mask over my face. The players laugh and cajole Ace for having lost his money.

Having now doubled my money, I feel a surge of confidence and fortune. Still, a lingering sense of danger makes me consider whether I should quit, take my money, and run. I look over at Ace, wondering whether I would even be allowed to leave without giving him a chance to win his money back.

The Ace takes out a briefcase and opens it up. I see thousands of dollars all neatly put together like some kind of drug deal is about to happen. He lays each stack of bills one at a time on the table.

Ace looks to me and says, “My father always told me there were two kinds of people in this world. Either a soul survivor or a lost soul. A lost soul takes risks in life while the soul survivor likes to play it safe. Being a lost soul is like a drug. Your heart starts pumping faster, your emotions are all over the place, and the feeling of stress excites your bones. A soul survivor plays it cool. Doesn’t want to rock the boat. Mediocre is its middle name. Both can be good and bad depending how you see it. Like a gemini a soul survivor portrays. Me and my father have always been known as lost souls. Which I am sure the elite members around this table can admit to being lost souls themselves. The rush that at any moment I could either walk out of here a richer man or leave with my pockets empty, excites the hell out of me!” He laughs as he continues to lay more stacks of money in front of him.

“So what kind of person are you? A lost soul willing to risk it all? Or a soul survivor willing to settle on what he has? The decision is up to you.”

The dealer gives him the chips and takes hold of the pile of money.

The Queen turns to me and says, “A soul survivor or a lost soul?”

The Ten gets his chips in a row and says, “A soul survivor or a lost soul?”

The King narrows his gaze towards me. “Are you a soul survivor or a lost soul?” They all stare at me waiting for my answer.

In that moment, all I can think about is that I don’t want to live on food stamps for the rest of my life. “I think I am feeling like a lost soul tonight, gentlemen.”