Authors: Eugene Burdick
The Ninth Wave (9 page)
"I'll do both of them," Hollis blurted out. "I'm not afraid of you,
Moore."
Hank looked up and laughed.
"One or the other," he said. "I haven't got time for both of them."
Hollis looked around the table once more.
"We'll play poker tonight," he said slowly.
Mike counted all the money in the cigar box. It came to two hundred and
fifty-two dollars. Hank reached across the table and picked it up. Mike put
the coins back in the box and closed the drawer. A thin tinkle of pennies
and nickels echoed in the room. Hank smiled. "Let's go," Hank said.
They walked out of their room, down the corridor, and into Hollis' room.
There were six of them waiting around the table. They were all eastern
boys. Three of them were wearing seersucker suits and all of them wore
ties. They looked up curiously at Hank, smiled at his sweat shirt and
blue jeans. Hollis did not introduce Mike or Hank to the men at the table.
"We pay up at the end of the evening," Hollis said crisply. "By check
or cash. It doesn't matter."
Hank slumped into the empty chair. His long white fingers hung on the
edge of the table. Mike stood behind him and for the first time he was
aware that in the dim light around the edge of the room there was a ring
of freshmen. They were pressed against the wall, sat on the two beds,
crouched on the dresser. They sat quietly, but their eyes gleamed in the
reflected light. Mike could not recognize any of them; all he could see
was the pairs of eyes and the occasional shift of hands as someone lit
a cigarette.
"What stakes do you want to play, Moore?" Hollis asked.
"Are there any house rules?" Hank asked.
"Do you want some?" Hollis asked.
"Yes," Hank said quietly. His face was back out of the light, only his
long limp fingers showed. "Dealer's choice, but games limited to five- and
seven-card stud and five-card draw. No jokers. No wild cards. No misdeals
. . . every card is played even if it is misdealt. Three bumps. Declare
a time limit at ten o'clock with the big loser setting the time."
Mike heard the men around the room take a collective breath. Hollis looked
slowly around the table.
"That seems all right," he said. "What kind of stakes do you want?"
"Anything you say."
"How would one dollar for whites, three for reds and five for blues
be?" Hollis asked.
Hank did not say anything. The white fingers reached for a cigarette,
struck a match and suddenly Hank's face was illuminated by the small
light from the match. He blew out the match and threw it in an ashtray.
"Well, how about two dollars, five and ten?" Hollis asked. "That all
right?" His voice was a little tense.
"Anything you say," Hank replied.
"That's it then." Hollis said. "How much do you want to start, Moore?"
"Five hundred dollars," Hank said.
The eastern boys stirred in their chairs. Hollis hesitated and then
counted out five hundred dollars in chips. He stacked up thirty-five blue
chips, twenty reds and fifty whites and pushed them over to Hank. Hank
did not touch them; he just let them rest between his hands.
Hollis counted out five hundred dollars in chips for the rest of the
players without asking them what they wanted.
You better be good, Mike thought. You've got twice in chips what you've
got in cash. You better be good.
"We won't cut," Hollis said. "You can deal first, Moore."
He broke open a deck of Bicycle cards and threw them over to Hank. Hank
peeled off the two jokers and dropped them on the floor. Hank shuffled
the cards slowly. He did not do it skillfully. He held the two halves
of the deck together and riffled them and then pushed them awkwardly
together. Mike felt a slight pang of doubt
"Five-card stud," Hank said. "Everyone ante two bucks."
Hank pushed two white chips out onto the table. His fingers tightened,
he held the deck flat above the table and the cards started to fall. He
dealt three down cards and stopped with his hands in front of Hollis,
a card held in his fingers.
"Go ahead, deal," Hollis said.
"You haven't anted," Hank said.
Hollis looked down. There were seven white chips on the table. Hollis
flushed and pushed a white chip onto the table. Hank dropped him a down
card and went on with the deal
When everyone had their second card Hank put the cards down and looked
at his hole card. He raised the tip of the card so that Mike could see
it Hank had a king down and a queen up.
A man with an ace showing bet a red chip. Four of the players went
along. Hank folded. Osborne won the hand with two jacks.
The next dealer played five-card draw. Hank drew four low spades and the
ace of hearts. He discarded the ace and drew a jack of diamonds. On the
first bet after the draw he folded.
Hank lost also on the next two hands which were five-card stud. Then
Hollis was dealer.
Mike watched Hollis shuffle. He did it expertly with a gamblers' riffle;
the cards hissing through the air and then a long stream of them falling
quietly into his hand.
"It's draw," Hollis said.
He dealt the cards rapidly. Hank had a pair of treys and an ace of
spades and two other low cards. Hank held the treys and went along with
the opening bet of five dollars. He drew three face cards and did not
improve his hand. However, when the betting started he raised the first
ten-dollar bet by fifteen dollars.
Easy, boy, Mike thought. Only four hands and you've already lost about
a hundred dollars. Two treys are not much in this game.
Hollis raised Hank twenty dollars and two other boys went along. Hank
raised twenty dollars and everyone folded except. Hank and Hollis. There
was almost two hundred and fifty dollars in the pot.
Hollis won with a straight. He raked in the chips and his tanned face
was creased with a smile.
Mike bent over and whispered in Hank's ear, "Take it easy, Hank. They
don't bluff very easy. You're down a hundred bucks already."
Hank did not move his hands from the table, but he turned his head and
looked up at Mike. He answered, in a normal voice that everyone in the
room could hear.
"You've got it wrong, Mike," he said. "I have to find out who is willing
to buy a pot and who is going to really win one. Now I know."
The players looked up angrily, tried to find Hank's face in the
gloom. They looked at his hands and one of the players swore.
"We don't need any kibitzers, Freesmith," Hollis said. "Let Moore play
his own cards. After all, he's the big gambler from L.A., isn't he?"
The ring of men sitting in the gloom back of the table laughed. The
players looked up and grinned.
"Up yours, Hollis," Mike said.
"Don't be vulgar," Hollis said. "Just let the big-time gambler play his
own cards."
Mike looked down at the back of Hank's head, then down the dark reach of
his arms where the light suddenly caught the elbows and hands in intense
white detail. Hank had not moved during the conversation.
By ten o'clock Hank had lost three hundred and forty dollars and had won
only one small pot. The other players had relaxed and between deals they
began to tell short stories about summer vacations and rumours about
the fraternities. At exactly ten o'clock Hollis held out his hand.
"It's ten, Moore, and you are the big loser," he said. "How much longer
do you want to play?"
"Twelve," Hank said. "I'd like to knock off for ten minutes right now
and have a cup of coffee."
As they walked down to the coffee shop in the cellar of Encina Mike
talked earnestly to Hank.
"Look, Hank, you're in over your head," Mike said. "Play close to your
vest and if you get back even just ride along. Remember we don't have
enough money right now to pay off what you've lost."
"Don't worry, Mike," Hank said. "The big winner in a poker game is the
man who wins in the last hour. All you need is a couple of big pots."
"Sure, but you haven't even won one big pot yet," Mike said.
"That isn't important. You have to spend a little time finding out how
the rest of the people play. That costs a little money, but it's worth
it in the long run."
Have you found out anything?" Mike asked. "Hell no."
"I have," Hank said. "For example, the three boys in the seersucker
suits are cheating. When one of them has a good hand he signals to the
other two . . . pulls his ear, yawns, scratches his armpit, stuff like
that. Then the other two keep raising the bets to build up the pot.
It's the only simple way to cheat in poker there is. It gives you just
the slight mathematical edge that you need."
"Well, for Christ's sake let's call them on it," Mike said. "Let's sock
one of the bastards and call the game off."
"Don't get excited, Mike. Now I know when one of them has a good hand. I'm
better off than they are."
Mike started to talk again, but they walked into the coffee shop and
the other players were there. Mike and Hank sat in a booth by themselves
and drank their coffee and then walked back up to Hollis' room.
The first game was five-card stud. Hank got a king down and then his
first up card was a king. Hollis had an ace up. The rest of the up cards
were low. Hollis bent forward to look at the other cards and his face
came down into the light. He tugged at his ear lobe.
Mike looked at Hollis carefully. Hollis was now wearing one of the
seersucker coats. Mike realized that he must have changed with one
of the other boys during the coffee bred. Slowly it washed over Mike
that the seersucker coats were part of the plan; they were a sort of
signal. The three players in the seersucker coats supported one another
in the betting, but all of them must be in on it. Mike had a quick,
grinding impulse to reach across the table and slap Hollis in the face
and tell him that he knew they were all cheating.
Hollis checked. The next player in a seersucker coat bet ten dollars.
Someone else raised that five dollars. Hank went along.
Mike wanted to bend down and tell Hank what was happening, to warn him
that they were sandbagging the betting, but he was sure that he could
not control his voice. He gripped the back of Hank's chair.
Use your eyes, Hank, he thought. Don't you see that Hollis has aces back
to back. He just gave the signal.
On the next card Hank drew another king. No one else improved their
hand. Again Hollis checked and one of the other players bet ten
dollars. Someone else raised. Hank went along. So did everyone else.
On the fourth card no one visibly improved his hand. Hank bet twenty-five
dollars on his two kings showing. Hollis raised twenty dollars. Four
of the players folded.
Mike rapidly counted the chips. There was almost five hundred dollars
in the pot. When the last cards were dealt Hank had not improved his
hand and, apparently, no one else had. Mike's stomach was knotted hard.
"It's up to you, Moore," Hollis said. "You've got the two kings showing."
"Thirty dollars," Hank said.
"Raise you thirty," Hollis said.
"Thirty more," Hank said. "If it doesn't drive you out."
Hollis saw Hank's raise, but the other player folded. Mike realized that
Hank had Hollis beaten; that there was no possible way that Hollis could
win. Mike looked down and saw that Hank's hands were still on the table,
the way they had been all evening.
"What do you mean, drive me out?" HoUis said. Slowly his face puckered
with cunning. "You don't think you're bluffing me, Moore? You're trying
to buy it, aren't you? Just like you said I was earlier."
Hank did not reply.
"Well, I'll tell you, Moore. Just for this one hand and just to show
you that we know how to give a big L.A. gambler some fun I'll raise
you one hundred dollars and give you the right to bump if you want."
Hollis leaned forward, suddenly triumphant. His face came into the light,
lean and tanned, and he grinned at Hank. His smile faded as Hank counted
out ten blue chips. Then Hank counted out another ten blue chips and threw
them on the table.
"I raise you a hundred dollars, Hollis," Hank said. Hollis put in ten
more blue chips. The pot was almost a thousand dollars now. The room
was very quiet. Down the hall a door slammed, bare feet sounded on the
corridor floor; disembodied, wet, lonely. A shower hissed somewhere.
"Show your cards, Moore," Hollis said.
Hank was opening a fresh pack of cigarettes. He went on with it. He neatly
tore the cellophane back, ripped the paper and pulled out a cigarette. He
lit the cigarette. Then he reached down and turned over his hole card.
The three kings burned on the table.
Hollis whimpered.
The rest was easy. Hollis bet frantically, desperate to win back the money
he had lost. He no longer looked for signals or gave them. He snatched
up his cards, glanced at them and if they were bad his face collapsed. He
bet too heavily, too soon, when they were good. The other players. played
aimlessly, staring at Hollis and not knowing quite what to do.
Hank only went along with three hands in the last hour of play. But he
won all of them and they were the three biggest pots.
Hank won eleven hundred dollars that night. Hollis wrote him a check,
his hand trembling as he wrote. The whole room held its breath as Hank
took the check, turned and left the room without saying a word to anyone.
When Hank and Mike were in their room Hank handed the check to Mike.
"Put it in the kitty," he said.
He walked over and picked up his physiology book. He put his feet on
the desk and opened the book. Before he started to read he looked up.
"Mike, I know you rigged that game with Hollis," he said. "Don't do it
again. I won't play next time. I don't like Hollis, but I won't play
him again. Him or anyone."
"You're right. I rigged it. Maybe I'll do it again if I think I can get
away with it," Mike said. "You scared the hell out of me for a few hours,
but it was worth it"
"Don't do it again."
"Don't try and scare me," Mike said. "You didn't have to play if you
didn't want to. You won't have to play the next time. Don't try to
load your problems off on me. I rigged it but it was a pretty damned
obvious job of rigging and it didn't fool you a bit You played because
you wanted to."
Hank looked steadily at Mike for a moment. Then he grinned.
"That's why I like you, Mike," he said. "You are so lacking in morals
yourself that you can always spot immorality in someone else. You're
right. I didn't have to play. It's just that I couldn't resist playing
Hollis. But I won't play next time. Even if you rig it very smoothly."
Moore."
Hank looked up and laughed.
"One or the other," he said. "I haven't got time for both of them."
Hollis looked around the table once more.
"We'll play poker tonight," he said slowly.
Mike counted all the money in the cigar box. It came to two hundred and
fifty-two dollars. Hank reached across the table and picked it up. Mike put
the coins back in the box and closed the drawer. A thin tinkle of pennies
and nickels echoed in the room. Hank smiled. "Let's go," Hank said.
They walked out of their room, down the corridor, and into Hollis' room.
There were six of them waiting around the table. They were all eastern
boys. Three of them were wearing seersucker suits and all of them wore
ties. They looked up curiously at Hank, smiled at his sweat shirt and
blue jeans. Hollis did not introduce Mike or Hank to the men at the table.
"We pay up at the end of the evening," Hollis said crisply. "By check
or cash. It doesn't matter."
Hank slumped into the empty chair. His long white fingers hung on the
edge of the table. Mike stood behind him and for the first time he was
aware that in the dim light around the edge of the room there was a ring
of freshmen. They were pressed against the wall, sat on the two beds,
crouched on the dresser. They sat quietly, but their eyes gleamed in the
reflected light. Mike could not recognize any of them; all he could see
was the pairs of eyes and the occasional shift of hands as someone lit
a cigarette.
"What stakes do you want to play, Moore?" Hollis asked.
"Are there any house rules?" Hank asked.
"Do you want some?" Hollis asked.
"Yes," Hank said quietly. His face was back out of the light, only his
long limp fingers showed. "Dealer's choice, but games limited to five- and
seven-card stud and five-card draw. No jokers. No wild cards. No misdeals
. . . every card is played even if it is misdealt. Three bumps. Declare
a time limit at ten o'clock with the big loser setting the time."
Mike heard the men around the room take a collective breath. Hollis looked
slowly around the table.
"That seems all right," he said. "What kind of stakes do you want?"
"Anything you say."
"How would one dollar for whites, three for reds and five for blues
be?" Hollis asked.
Hank did not say anything. The white fingers reached for a cigarette,
struck a match and suddenly Hank's face was illuminated by the small
light from the match. He blew out the match and threw it in an ashtray.
"Well, how about two dollars, five and ten?" Hollis asked. "That all
right?" His voice was a little tense.
"Anything you say," Hank replied.
"That's it then." Hollis said. "How much do you want to start, Moore?"
"Five hundred dollars," Hank said.
The eastern boys stirred in their chairs. Hollis hesitated and then
counted out five hundred dollars in chips. He stacked up thirty-five blue
chips, twenty reds and fifty whites and pushed them over to Hank. Hank
did not touch them; he just let them rest between his hands.
Hollis counted out five hundred dollars in chips for the rest of the
players without asking them what they wanted.
You better be good, Mike thought. You've got twice in chips what you've
got in cash. You better be good.
"We won't cut," Hollis said. "You can deal first, Moore."
He broke open a deck of Bicycle cards and threw them over to Hank. Hank
peeled off the two jokers and dropped them on the floor. Hank shuffled
the cards slowly. He did not do it skillfully. He held the two halves
of the deck together and riffled them and then pushed them awkwardly
together. Mike felt a slight pang of doubt
"Five-card stud," Hank said. "Everyone ante two bucks."
Hank pushed two white chips out onto the table. His fingers tightened,
he held the deck flat above the table and the cards started to fall. He
dealt three down cards and stopped with his hands in front of Hollis,
a card held in his fingers.
"Go ahead, deal," Hollis said.
"You haven't anted," Hank said.
Hollis looked down. There were seven white chips on the table. Hollis
flushed and pushed a white chip onto the table. Hank dropped him a down
card and went on with the deal
When everyone had their second card Hank put the cards down and looked
at his hole card. He raised the tip of the card so that Mike could see
it Hank had a king down and a queen up.
A man with an ace showing bet a red chip. Four of the players went
along. Hank folded. Osborne won the hand with two jacks.
The next dealer played five-card draw. Hank drew four low spades and the
ace of hearts. He discarded the ace and drew a jack of diamonds. On the
first bet after the draw he folded.
Hank lost also on the next two hands which were five-card stud. Then
Hollis was dealer.
Mike watched Hollis shuffle. He did it expertly with a gamblers' riffle;
the cards hissing through the air and then a long stream of them falling
quietly into his hand.
"It's draw," Hollis said.
He dealt the cards rapidly. Hank had a pair of treys and an ace of
spades and two other low cards. Hank held the treys and went along with
the opening bet of five dollars. He drew three face cards and did not
improve his hand. However, when the betting started he raised the first
ten-dollar bet by fifteen dollars.
Easy, boy, Mike thought. Only four hands and you've already lost about
a hundred dollars. Two treys are not much in this game.
Hollis raised Hank twenty dollars and two other boys went along. Hank
raised twenty dollars and everyone folded except. Hank and Hollis. There
was almost two hundred and fifty dollars in the pot.
Hollis won with a straight. He raked in the chips and his tanned face
was creased with a smile.
Mike bent over and whispered in Hank's ear, "Take it easy, Hank. They
don't bluff very easy. You're down a hundred bucks already."
Hank did not move his hands from the table, but he turned his head and
looked up at Mike. He answered, in a normal voice that everyone in the
room could hear.
"You've got it wrong, Mike," he said. "I have to find out who is willing
to buy a pot and who is going to really win one. Now I know."
The players looked up angrily, tried to find Hank's face in the
gloom. They looked at his hands and one of the players swore.
"We don't need any kibitzers, Freesmith," Hollis said. "Let Moore play
his own cards. After all, he's the big gambler from L.A., isn't he?"
The ring of men sitting in the gloom back of the table laughed. The
players looked up and grinned.
"Up yours, Hollis," Mike said.
"Don't be vulgar," Hollis said. "Just let the big-time gambler play his
own cards."
Mike looked down at the back of Hank's head, then down the dark reach of
his arms where the light suddenly caught the elbows and hands in intense
white detail. Hank had not moved during the conversation.
By ten o'clock Hank had lost three hundred and forty dollars and had won
only one small pot. The other players had relaxed and between deals they
began to tell short stories about summer vacations and rumours about
the fraternities. At exactly ten o'clock Hollis held out his hand.
"It's ten, Moore, and you are the big loser," he said. "How much longer
do you want to play?"
"Twelve," Hank said. "I'd like to knock off for ten minutes right now
and have a cup of coffee."
As they walked down to the coffee shop in the cellar of Encina Mike
talked earnestly to Hank.
"Look, Hank, you're in over your head," Mike said. "Play close to your
vest and if you get back even just ride along. Remember we don't have
enough money right now to pay off what you've lost."
"Don't worry, Mike," Hank said. "The big winner in a poker game is the
man who wins in the last hour. All you need is a couple of big pots."
"Sure, but you haven't even won one big pot yet," Mike said.
"That isn't important. You have to spend a little time finding out how
the rest of the people play. That costs a little money, but it's worth
it in the long run."
Have you found out anything?" Mike asked. "Hell no."
"I have," Hank said. "For example, the three boys in the seersucker
suits are cheating. When one of them has a good hand he signals to the
other two . . . pulls his ear, yawns, scratches his armpit, stuff like
that. Then the other two keep raising the bets to build up the pot.
It's the only simple way to cheat in poker there is. It gives you just
the slight mathematical edge that you need."
"Well, for Christ's sake let's call them on it," Mike said. "Let's sock
one of the bastards and call the game off."
"Don't get excited, Mike. Now I know when one of them has a good hand. I'm
better off than they are."
Mike started to talk again, but they walked into the coffee shop and
the other players were there. Mike and Hank sat in a booth by themselves
and drank their coffee and then walked back up to Hollis' room.
The first game was five-card stud. Hank got a king down and then his
first up card was a king. Hollis had an ace up. The rest of the up cards
were low. Hollis bent forward to look at the other cards and his face
came down into the light. He tugged at his ear lobe.
Mike looked at Hollis carefully. Hollis was now wearing one of the
seersucker coats. Mike realized that he must have changed with one
of the other boys during the coffee bred. Slowly it washed over Mike
that the seersucker coats were part of the plan; they were a sort of
signal. The three players in the seersucker coats supported one another
in the betting, but all of them must be in on it. Mike had a quick,
grinding impulse to reach across the table and slap Hollis in the face
and tell him that he knew they were all cheating.
Hollis checked. The next player in a seersucker coat bet ten dollars.
Someone else raised that five dollars. Hank went along.
Mike wanted to bend down and tell Hank what was happening, to warn him
that they were sandbagging the betting, but he was sure that he could
not control his voice. He gripped the back of Hank's chair.
Use your eyes, Hank, he thought. Don't you see that Hollis has aces back
to back. He just gave the signal.
On the next card Hank drew another king. No one else improved their
hand. Again Hollis checked and one of the other players bet ten
dollars. Someone else raised. Hank went along. So did everyone else.
On the fourth card no one visibly improved his hand. Hank bet twenty-five
dollars on his two kings showing. Hollis raised twenty dollars. Four
of the players folded.
Mike rapidly counted the chips. There was almost five hundred dollars
in the pot. When the last cards were dealt Hank had not improved his
hand and, apparently, no one else had. Mike's stomach was knotted hard.
"It's up to you, Moore," Hollis said. "You've got the two kings showing."
"Thirty dollars," Hank said.
"Raise you thirty," Hollis said.
"Thirty more," Hank said. "If it doesn't drive you out."
Hollis saw Hank's raise, but the other player folded. Mike realized that
Hank had Hollis beaten; that there was no possible way that Hollis could
win. Mike looked down and saw that Hank's hands were still on the table,
the way they had been all evening.
"What do you mean, drive me out?" HoUis said. Slowly his face puckered
with cunning. "You don't think you're bluffing me, Moore? You're trying
to buy it, aren't you? Just like you said I was earlier."
Hank did not reply.
"Well, I'll tell you, Moore. Just for this one hand and just to show
you that we know how to give a big L.A. gambler some fun I'll raise
you one hundred dollars and give you the right to bump if you want."
Hollis leaned forward, suddenly triumphant. His face came into the light,
lean and tanned, and he grinned at Hank. His smile faded as Hank counted
out ten blue chips. Then Hank counted out another ten blue chips and threw
them on the table.
"I raise you a hundred dollars, Hollis," Hank said. Hollis put in ten
more blue chips. The pot was almost a thousand dollars now. The room
was very quiet. Down the hall a door slammed, bare feet sounded on the
corridor floor; disembodied, wet, lonely. A shower hissed somewhere.
"Show your cards, Moore," Hollis said.
Hank was opening a fresh pack of cigarettes. He went on with it. He neatly
tore the cellophane back, ripped the paper and pulled out a cigarette. He
lit the cigarette. Then he reached down and turned over his hole card.
The three kings burned on the table.
Hollis whimpered.
The rest was easy. Hollis bet frantically, desperate to win back the money
he had lost. He no longer looked for signals or gave them. He snatched
up his cards, glanced at them and if they were bad his face collapsed. He
bet too heavily, too soon, when they were good. The other players. played
aimlessly, staring at Hollis and not knowing quite what to do.
Hank only went along with three hands in the last hour of play. But he
won all of them and they were the three biggest pots.
Hank won eleven hundred dollars that night. Hollis wrote him a check,
his hand trembling as he wrote. The whole room held its breath as Hank
took the check, turned and left the room without saying a word to anyone.
When Hank and Mike were in their room Hank handed the check to Mike.
"Put it in the kitty," he said.
He walked over and picked up his physiology book. He put his feet on
the desk and opened the book. Before he started to read he looked up.
"Mike, I know you rigged that game with Hollis," he said. "Don't do it
again. I won't play next time. I don't like Hollis, but I won't play
him again. Him or anyone."
"You're right. I rigged it. Maybe I'll do it again if I think I can get
away with it," Mike said. "You scared the hell out of me for a few hours,
but it was worth it"
"Don't do it again."
"Don't try and scare me," Mike said. "You didn't have to play if you
didn't want to. You won't have to play the next time. Don't try to
load your problems off on me. I rigged it but it was a pretty damned
obvious job of rigging and it didn't fool you a bit You played because
you wanted to."
Hank looked steadily at Mike for a moment. Then he grinned.
"That's why I like you, Mike," he said. "You are so lacking in morals
yourself that you can always spot immorality in someone else. You're
right. I didn't have to play. It's just that I couldn't resist playing
Hollis. But I won't play next time. Even if you rig it very smoothly."
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