Alex closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, struggling to accept his loss. He failed. Paralyzed, his mind went blank.
Nelson, Dean, and Charlie looked at their hands, chewed their lips and stared at the shuttered windows as though they were open. Bobby recognized them from a thousand games, the forlorn, sagging, sad faces of the defeated.
“Oh, my God,” Charlie said.
Bobby rubbed his hands together and paused to admire two and a half million dollars in fine ceramic chips. He selected one blue and put it in his pocket with the six rounds from Nelson's revolver. Encountering the bullets, his fingers began to have ideas.
“Unless you have something else to play with, it looks like you boys are wiped out,” he said, standing up to stretch.
“Game's over,” Alex mumbled.
“No, it isn't,” Bobby said.
Stunned, awkward silence.
“Oh, God,” Charlie moaned.
“You have everything,” Dean said.
“No, not everything,” Bobby replied with an edge in his voice.
“What do you want?” Alex asked, mumbling, “As if I didn't know.”
“I came to play for five thousand dollars, and that was fine. And when you raised the stakes to a half million, that was fine, too, because it was cash. But then I raised the stakes again and you lost a lot of property that I don't see. The first question is: how do I collect?”
“Don't you trust us?” Nelson asked.
“Since you ask, the answer is, no sir, I don't. Poker like this is
illegal in California, and gambling debts are damned near uncollectible.”
“You want markers? IOUs?” Dean asked.
Alex said, “Our word is good. We'll sign over the property, at least I will.”
“I'm sure you will, Alex, because you want to walk out on your life, anyway. Dean and Nelson and Charlie, I'm not so sure about. No matter what you say now, you can wake up tomorrow and think, that guy can't prove he won my building or my company. You'll begin to get ideas. Just like Shanghai Bend, you can pretend this didn't happen. No way. I want a lawyer to draw up papers,” Bobby said.
“A lawyer!” Dean exclaimed. “Jesus.” And Nelson added, “It's five o'clock on Sunday morning, Bobby. Not too many attorneys are at work.”
“Oh, I know an ambulance chaser who'll take my call. Reno is full of 'em. And if I don't call a lawyer, what can I do to collect? Should Charlie and I go down to the fishwharf right now and tell his boat captains I own the fleet? How about you, Dean? Want to go up the river and give me the keys this morning? Any way we do it, you'll have to explain why some guy is claiming he won your goods in a poker game. Your secret goes public, whatever it is. You're exposed for what you are. Think about it. Want to go down to the wharf, Charlie?”
Prolonged silence. Gray faces.
“Charlie?”
No answer.
“Dean? Nelson? You didn't think this through, did you? You don't know what to do. Well, I have an idea. I don't really want to call a lawyer, but I will if I have to. The same thing goes for the Yuba County Sheriff. I don't want to call him, either, but I will. On the other hand, I'd prefer to sort this out in this room right now.”
Jingling the six fat .44 magnum cartridges in his pocket, Bobby reached under his seat, brought up Nelson's pistol and laid it on the table.
Undisguised horror.
“Okay,” Bobby said. “You have a little common sense left, so here's what we'll do. We'll let the cards decide. I think that's only fitting. We'll play five card no peeky heads-up one at a time, and the best hand wins. If I win, you tell me the truth about Shanghai Bend and I give you back your property. Not the money, I'm keeping that. And if
you
win, you can have your stuff back and say nothing. If you want to keep silent forever, you have to win, and all of you have to win. One loser and he talks. If you don't want to play, I'll start making phone calls. I'm making it easy. I don't want your buildings or businesses or cars, and I sure as hell don't want some damned silly boat. You want your lives back? Play cards, or by God I'm taking everything and holding you to it, and I'll call the Yuba County Sheriff for good measure and you can tell him who cracked Sally's skull. Who's first?” Bobby snapped. Snatching the red deck, he began to shuffle.
“You want to play cards for the truth?” Alex asked.
“Why not? First I hear all this bullshit about the right thing, and it turns out you don't know what the right thing is. You think the right thing is to let sleeping dogs lie, to keep quiet, say nothing, do nothing. But you feel guilty enough to pay me off with all this dope money and the cash you lost in the game, but it went farther than you expected. The game got out of control and you forfeited everything you've acquired by pretending all these years that Sally never existed. You're all respectable members of society, substantial citizens, men of means, but you know you're frauds, and I know you want to continue being frauds. Fine. We're going to decide everything on the turn of a card. If you don't like it, we can do it the other way with lawyers and cops and the whole nine yards. Let's cut the crap. Who's first?”
“And if we lose and tell you what happened, then what?” Nelson asked.
“It depends on what you say. You've had a long time to work on your story, so it better be good.”
“We haven't worked on the story,” Charlie said. “Weâ”
“Shhh,” Bobby hissed. “Who's first?”
No one moved.
“What do I have to do?” Bobby asked, picking up the gun. “Put a bullet in someone's knee?”
“We can't all win. You know that,” Alex said.
“Stop stalling. Enough bullshit. What are you afraid of?”
“You,” Dean answered. “We're afraid of you, Bobby.”
“You're afraid of what I might do when I learn the truth?”
“Yes.”
“What's the worst I can do? Call the sheriff? Shoot you with this gun? You'd better think about what's gonna happen if you don't play. I spent many years planning revenge on you people, but I put it behind me. I grew up, but now you're pissing me off, stalling and trying to buy me off. I'm going to hear the truth, one way or the other.”
With a long sigh Alex said, “What the hell. I'll play.”
“Then cut the cards.”
Alex lifted half the deck and covered it with the bottom half. Bobby set down the revolver, swiftly dealt five cards to Alex and himself, then turned over his first card, a ten.
Alex turned over an ace.
Bobby turned over a second ten.
Alex turned over a second ace, and when all the cards were turned, Alex won with a pair of aces.
“You're a winner, Alex,” Bobby said. “The life you want to abandon is now yours again. You don't have to say a damned thing. Who's next? Who wants his stuff back the most? Charlie? Nelson?”
Dean took his seat at the table, reached over and, hands trembling, cut the deck. Bobby scooped up the cards and dealt two more hands.
“No need to prolong the agony. Just flip 'em over,” Bobby said.
Dean turned over all his cards and revealed a pair of threes.
“A pair, that's good,” Bobby said, and turned over his cards one at a time.
“A seven, a king, a ten, a deuce, and another seven. Sorry, Stud, you lose. Want your business back? Start talking.”
Dean looked at the others, still uncertain.
“Go ahead,” Charlie said. “Tell him. There's no way around it.”
Nelson nodded and Alex stared at the heroes on the wall.
“I thought,” Dean began, and faltered. “I was so drunk I thoughtâsheâ”
“I saw her in the river,” Charlie stammered. “I woke up and everyone was gone, so I went through the woods and I saw Dean and Nelson and Alex hiding in the trees, and then I saw her naked in the middle of the river near the rocks by the falls. Buck naked and a little chubby.”
The story began to spill from four voices at once.
“It isn't fair that Bobby gets the girl all to himself,” Dean said, expressing his envy by drop-kicking a beer can into the river.
“Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, happens all the time,” Alex said.
“Let's go give 'em a scare.”
“What? You're nuts.”
“The boogie man, the boogie man, woo woo.”
“You're drunk.”
“So what, Wiz? So're you. Where's Nelson? Hey, Chinaman!”
“What?”
“Wouldn't you like to stick your dick into that girl?”
“I wanna go to sleep.”
“Sleep? With pussy aroun'? Whatsa matta wit' you? Maybe you should crawl in with Charlie and fuck him.”
“You're an asshole, Studley.”
“Well, at least I ain't queer. Shit, I'm goin' over there.”
“You'll be sorry,” Nelson warned. “Bobby will kick your ass, and you know he can.”
“Bobby this, Bobby that, Bobby Bobby Bobby. Fuck 'im.”
Dean hopped off the boat onto the shore and started tramping through the woods.
“Christ,” Alex said to Nelson. “We'd better go after him or we're gonna have big trouble.”
“Bobby was right this afternoon,” Nelson said with deep remorse. “We never shoulda let her on the boat in the first place.”
“Too late f' that. Let's go.”
“Shit, Alex. Bobby can take care of himself. Dean'll get what he deserves.”
“Come on, Nelson. We gotta stop this pervert before he starts a riot.”
Awake in the forward cabin, Charlie waited until Alex and Nelson left the boat before following them unseen into the woods.
Lurching drunkenly through the woods, Alex and Nelson caught up with Dean behind a thicket of underbrush near the far end of the island. The moonlit night was clear, warm, and buggy, the tent silent and still, the river steaming with foam from the falls.
“Come back to the boat, Dean,” Alex whispered as loudly as he dared.
“Shut up, fool.”
“What're you gonna do? Knock onna door and ask Bobby's permission?”
“I just wanna give 'em a scare.”
“I don' think Bobby'll be scared by anything you can do. You're trying t' pick a fight 'cause you're drunk and stupid and jealous. Grow up.”
Dean seemed to waver in his resolve, grinning sheepishly. “I'm the boogie man,” he said without conviction.
“Yeah, right.”
“I don't hear nothin',” Nelson said. “Maybe they're asleep.”
“Come on. Let's go back t' the boat'n play cards.”
“Shh. I hear something. Look, the zipper in the tent.”
Alarmed, Alex whispered hoarsely, “Back up! Back up! Let's get outta here! If Bobby sees us, holy shit.”
Hidden in the foliage a hundred feet from the tent, Alex, Dean, and Nelson watched Sally emerge nude, radiant, a river nymph, and their hearts raced and their cocks got hard. They remained stock still and waited for Bobby to come out after her, but he didn't.
“Lookit. Damn.”
“Shh.”
She stepped gingerly over the rocks and sharp clam shells and waded into the water up to her knees, her back to the woods. She was singing, not any particular song, merely trilling la-la-la la-la-la and splashing water into her face and over her body. Then they
noticed she had a deck of cards in her hand that she began flipping into the river one by one.
“La-la-la la-la-la.”
“It's like a painting,” Alex whispered, overcome by the beauty of the scene. “You know, one of those old paintings in the museum.”
In the throes of rampant lust, Dean growled, “It don't look like no painting to me. It looks like pussy.”
“If Bobby comes out, he'll be pissed if he finds us,” Nelson said, trying to keep his head while his dick jumped around like a snake inside his pants.
“Like I give a shit,” Dean said.
They stared, imaginations pumping enough hormones into their bloodstreams to put all the rules of civilization to the test.
“This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this,” Alex said, embarrassed and confused by the power of his emotions, yet he couldn't make his legs carry him away. His eyes were nailed to the waif in the river as she turned, giving them a full view of her budding adolescent body.
“Oh, Jesus,” Nelson moaned, trying to squeeze his eyes shut which they refused to do.
Alex sighed, knowing he'd never have the charisma of a Bobby McCorkle to attract a girl like that. Just wasn't in the cards.
Water streamed between her breasts and between her legs. The falls behind her creamed white and hissing as though the river had felt her presence, become aroused and was ejaculating all around her.
“Whaddaya think she'd do if I jumped inna water with her?” Dean snickered.
“I don't know, but I know what Bobby'd do.”
“I can't stand it!”
Nelson grabbed his dick and came in his pants, gasped, and thrashed off into the woods running right past Charlie without seeing him in the bushes. Charlie saw the stain on the front of Nelson's Bermuda shorts and watched him rush to the boat and jump in the river away from the others.
Sally neither saw nor heard their shenanigans and continued to sing and splash in the water now up to the middle of her thighs. The liberated deck of cards spread out in a long line like uprooted water lilies drifting downstream. Delighted, she watched them float away, then spread her arms wide, threw her head back and thanked the stars for giving her this moment, the end of innocence and the beginning of love. A little woozy from the beer, she was glad she hadn't passed out like Bobby. Boys did that, she'd noticed. They just drank themselves silly.
“She can't swim,” Alex said. “She shouldn't be out in the river like that.”
“Look a' those titties,” Dean said. “Look at the hair on her pussy.”
“Dean, you're just drunker'n shit, so shut up.”
“I'm gonna go get her.”
“No, you're not.”
Alex abruptly walked out of the woods and across the rocky beach to the edge of the water.
“Sally!” he shouted as loud as he could. “Get out of the river! It's dangerous!”
With the falls directly behind her, Sally couldn't hear. All she saw was Alex gesturing wildly for her to come to him, and then she saw Dean walk out of the woods behind him. They were getting a good look at her in the moonlight, that was for sure, so instead of shrieking like a dizzy bimbo and trying to cover herself, she waved, did a little dance, and wiggled her ass. Alex started to laugh, but Dean was ready to rip off his clothes and plunge into the river.
“God
damn!”
Dean gasped. “Look at that. It's Lady fucking Godiva. Maybe I better go in after her.”
“Cool it, Deano. Bobby's gonna be out here any minute.”
Alex waved again, blushing as his eyes devoured Sally's stirring beauty. He took a step into the water.
Not feeling threatened but having no intention of getting any closer to the boys, merely wanting to tease, Sally cocked her wrists on her hips, elbows akimbo, and jiggled her tits like Gypsy Rose Lee.
“She wants me,” Dean hissed, tearing off his pants.
“Dean! Christ.”
“Hey, baby!” Dean hollered, and ran into the river, stiff dick swinging, screaming, “Geronimo!”
Appalled, Alex froze, unable to decide whether to go after Dean or run to the tent and wake up Bobby.
“Oh, shit, now I've done it,” Sally blurted as she watched the big, naked kid rushing toward her in a tornado of white water. She shouted, “Bobby!
Bobby
!”
But Bobby couldn't hear. Dean, pounding nearer, clearly heard her call for help, which at first only fueled his jealousy. Resentment of Bobby poured out of him like sweat, but the water slowed his progress enough for him to think: Jesus, if Bobby comes out of the tent, there's gonna be a fight.
Confusing signals battered through the alcoholic haze in Dean's brain. Fuck or fight or what? Sunburned knees pumping through the water, he glanced down and saw his flopping red penis just as the abrupt chill of the river sent a jolt of sobriety through his nervous system. It dawned on him that a lifetime of friendship was being tossed like detritus into the river. Was it worth it? Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe what he wanted was to kick Bobby McCorkle's ass and beat him at something.
He looked behind him and saw Alex on shore, agitated and hopping up and down, and the tent, unchanged, with no Bobby in sight. Then he looked up and saw only revulsion in Sally's face, her lips pulled back in a grimace, eyes bulging, and her body, so inviting from a distance, trembling and covered with goose-pimples. He'd expected to be received with open arms and open legs, and when he saw that wasn't the case his confusion deepened.
Capable of defending herself, Sally was more afraid of the water than of Dean. She knew that if she aimed a kick at Dean's crotch, she'd lose her balance, so she braced to hit him in the nuts with her fist.
Sloshing toward her, grinning at her defiant stance, he faltered on the slick bottom, slipped, and belly-flopped with a loud splash. For a few seconds, he drifted like a pink whale in the current.
Starting to laugh, Sally checked herself, thinking laughter might
provoke the drunken fool. Instead, she began to take tiny steps on the treacherous bottom to distance herself from the crazed and naked Dean.
He found his footing, stopped his drift, raised himself to his knees, and shouted to Sally, “You're beautiful.”
She shouted back, “You're crazy and drunk.”
From shore Alex, still immobilized, could see them shouting inaudible words. Farther back in the woods, Charlie watched the scene in the middle of the river as if it were a silent film in slow motion. He saw Sally backing toward the strange, pitted rocks and gesturing as though she were trying to push Dean away.
“Leave me alone,” she yelled.
Dean rose unsteadily to his feet, wobbling in the current, and took a step toward Sally, who continued to retreat. Finally compelled to intervene, Alex charged through the water, tackled Dean from behind and started a clumsy, slippery wrestling match. Enraged and confused, thinking Bobby had awakened and attacked, Dean flailed madly at Alex, who clung to his back, arms wrapped around Dean's chest as he tried to drag the bigger boy toward shore. Alex managed only to pull Dean over on top of him and then had to let go to keep from drowning.
Gasping for air, Alex broke the surface, startling Dean, who barked, “Alex! I thought you were Bobby!”
“I'm not gonna let you do this, Studley. You're out of your mind. Leave her alone.”
From his knees Dean launched a roundhouse punch that missed by a foot and toppled him into the water. Feeling braver by the second, Alex charged again, thinking: I should get a medal for this.
Dean got his fight, whether he wanted it or not. With Alex and Dean entangled in a drunken brawl, Sally moved away from the struggling boys, inching downstream between a pair of rock formations.
These stupid boys are fighting over me, she thought as they churned the water a few feet away. Should I be flattered or appalled? Then she noticed that with every step the water was deeper and the current stronger.
Suddenly, Dean broke free from Alex and lunged again for Sally just as she stretched to grasp a rock for balance. Fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, Dean's football instincts took over and he slammed her with a linebacker's body blow that drove her head with tremendous force against the rocks.
Sally collapsed like a popped balloon. An instant of shock, too quick for pain, and she was gone. The river closed over her like a green cloud, and she began to drift away.
Dazed, Dean whirled to face Alex, who was kneeling in the river, coughing up water and muttering, “You bastard.”
“She's a fucking
tease,
for chrissake!” Dean screamed. “What the fuck is the matter with
you?”
When Alex didn't respond, Dean turned again and saw only the river. Baffled, he mumbled, “What the fuck? Where'd she go?”
Only Charlie in the woods saw Sally go under. One moment she was there, arms and legs flailing, and the next instant Dean hit her and she vanished. She'd fallen into a dredged-out hole in the bottom of the river, and when Charlie saw the top of her head bob to the surface ten yards downstream, she was drifting face down toward the other end of the island. Then she went under a second time, and neither Alex nor Dean, intent on each other, had seen what had happened.