A break in the deal

With my recent computer problems, limited writing time, and a new-found desire to finish a book I’m working on, I’m suspending the 52 Cards project.  I plan on finishing it eventually, and to that end I’ll list the remaining cards, as they appeared in the shuffled deck back in January (I haven’t looked ahead until tonight).  Some of them might get skipped to if I feel like writing something off my regularly scheduled beaten path.

Remaining cards:

Six of Hearts (I know that it was last week’s, but I don’t want to let it go)

King of Spades (this week’s)

King of Diamonds

Seven of Clubs

King of Hearts

Three of Spades

Six of Spades (part 2 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Eight of Diamonds

Eight of Spades (part 3 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Five of Clubs

Ten of Diamonds

Ten of Hearts

Seven of Hearts

Two of Spades (part 3 of  Two-Island Lake)

Two of Clubs (part 4 of Two-Island Lake)

Nine of Diamonds

Queen of Diamonds

Eight of Hearts

Nine of Spades (part 4 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Ten of Spades (conclusion of Inside-Outside Straight)

Queen of Hearts

Six of Hearts

Tonight, I’m in the same chair I’ve been using to write most of the entries, but my heart isn’t in writing tonight.  The computer I’ve composed countless blogs on, discovered numerous artists on, and laughed with at countless Homestarrunner cartoons, is showing only a blue screen and a spinning wheel near the bottom.  I’ve been on the tech support site, and so far no remedy has worked.  I had a story planned out, and I might post it later, computer willing.

UPDATE 1 8/14/2009 My computer is in the shop, and I’ll know more next week.  I’ll try to get this one written sometime before the next one goes up.

Queen of Clubs

[this story is a sequel to Three of Clubs]

Kelvin Nelson’s eyes shot open, largely in part to “Dr. Feelgood” coming out of his BMW’s speakers at a ridiculous volume.  His right hand went right for the volume knob, and a tiny bit of hot coffee splashed out onto his hand.  “Ahhhhhhh…Son of a…” he said as he quickly transitioned his coffee from his left hand to his right hand.  He sat the coffee on the empty passenger seat and ejected the CD from the car’s stereo.  The CD was faded, slightly cracked in spots, and the back was so scratched up it looked like it had been drug behind a car in a long wedding procession.  He carefully slid it behind the sun visor on the passenger side of the car.  He picked up his coffee and carefully backed out of the driveway.  He took a long drink of coffee before placing the travel mug between his knees.  Without looking, he slid a mix CD from behind the driver’s side visor and into the car’s CD player.

###

Kelvin was rubbing his temples as he stared at his nearly finished legal brief.  He thought it was almost finished, but he was having second thoughts.  The buzz of the intercom brought him back from the precipice of powerful second thoughts, if just for a moment.  “Yes Janice?” he said loudly as he turned to the phone.

“Marvin Kelly on line two for you” Janice said.  Her voice was all business, which was his signal to keep it short.  He picked up the handset and pressed the blinking light.

“Marv, why are you calling me at work?”

“Mainly because you have your phone off…again.”

“My phone isn’t off…” Kelvin was feeling around his jacket pocket, but he didn’t feel a phone anywhere.  “Crap, it’s in my car.  That’s on me…but I can’t talk long.  I need to finish this.”

“Look, I have another show booked for us tonight.”

“Marv…I can’t.  We agreed I can’t do this more than two days in a row.”

“There’s a talent scout from Vegas in town tonight.  I had to pull some strings to get us on the bill.  Everyone’s in but you.  We need you…don’t make me beg…”

“All right…all right…” Kelvin could feel his potential headache becoming a reality headache.  His office door opened and his boss poked his head in.  “Look M, I have to go.  I’ll see you when I get home…I promise we can…do that thing…you like tonight.”

“You’re the best Kelvin.  I mean it.  I love you man.”

Kelvin smiled nervously as his  boss smiled at him.  “I love you too” he said before he hung up the phone.

###

Hours passed, and Kelvin’s day became a giant blur.  He had to stay late at work revising his brief, and before he knew it he was running late for the show.  He knew his wife was at a PTA meeting, and his daughter was on a date.  His two sons were at a friends, and he called to tell them to stay as late as they could.  He knew there was one way to save time, but it was risky and dangerous.  It was worth the risk, he told himself as he scrambled to get himself ready for the night’s show.  It was worth the risk he told himself again as he stepped out of the upstairs bathroom.  He had taken just one step into the bedroom when he found himself face to face with his wife Megan.  She had changed into sweatpants and a Skid Row t-shirt, but he had changed as well.  Her jaw dropped as she reached out her arms and touched some stray blonde hairs that were hanging from his wig.  “Kelvin?”  Her voice was shaky and light like a whisper.

“I’m sorry.  I should have told you sooner.”  He glanced at the clock.  His maneuver had bought him time, but it was going to cost him a lot more.  “I’ve been doing this when I said I was working late for the past decade.”

“So…” Megan was still running her hands around his body, which was now in a skimpy pink dress.  “Do you just dress up, or are you…you know…”

“Yeah” Kelvin said as he took Megan’s hands in his.  “I’ve always been curious, but about ten years ago I met somebody who helped me realize who I really am.  I didn’t want to say anything…the kids would be devestaed, and my boss would fire me for sure.  The funny thing is, I’ve seen him at one of my shows.”

“Shows?”

“I’m part of an all…girl…singing group.  We do drag shows at the places in town.  I usually make sure to get dressed there, and have my secretary cover for me.  Tonight’s a special night for Marvin.  He’s really good, and there’s a talent scout from Vegas here.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Megan asked.  Her voice was returning to normal, but there was an emotion behind it that Kelvin couldn’t identify.

“I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you for quite a while.  It just seemed easier to keep up the facade.  I didn’t want to hurt you.  I’m so sorry this is how you found out…”  Megan removed her hands from his hands and put her hands in her hair.  She turned back towards him, still keeping her emotions hard to decipher.

“So…what now?  What about Rochelle, Derrick, and David?”

“I have no idea.  I’m so sorry…” Kelvin started to slouch as he turned back to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to call Marvin and tell him I can’t make it.  I need to fix things here first.”  He spotted the make-up remover, but before he went another step, he felt Megan’s arm grab his.

“No, you go.  Go do your show.  Help your…friend out.  He’s more than a friend though, isn’t he?”  Kelvin could feel tears building up as he nodded yes.  “Go.  I’ll be okay.  I need some time alone to think about things.”

“Are you sure?”

“You go.  Sing your little heart out.  I’ve always known you were a good singer.  Go.  I’ll be all right.”  Megan nodded as he turned and walked towards the bedroom door.  She put her hands on her hips and held in a cry, but as his heels clicked the hallway, she turned and ran to the door.  “Kelivin?” she said as she walked into the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“I…slept with an old boyfriend when I was in Vegas.  I didn’t know how to tell you.  Just…tonight seemed like a good night for confessions.”

Kelvin stopped for a moment, and he shook his head.  “I’m a bit hurt, but I don’t blame you.  Honestly.”

“We can talk about it later.  Go.  Be the queen of the clubs for a night.”

Kelvin waved as he walked down the stairs.  Megan walked back into the bedroom.  She picked up her iPod and put her earbuds in.  She curled up with a pillow and started to cry softly as Skid Row’s “I Remember You” filled her ears.

Six of Diamonds

“Good afternoon Mr. Clarkdale, or can I call you Zeke?”

Zeke Clarkdale did not look up from his work.  He was making six quick dots on a piece of paper that had been left on the table.  He rapidly made six more dots under each one, followed by six more to the middle left of all the dots, and finally six more to the right of each of the first two dots.  He started to connect the dots slowly.  “Zeke is fine” he said as he finished the third one.

“Zeke, my name is Hildegaard Cumberdale.  I’m here to talk to you about why you’re here.”

“I know why I’m here” Zeke said.  He had finished connecting each set of four dots, and was now shading them in.  Hildegaard watched him, and her smile didn’t break once.

“You must be a card player.”

“What’s that?” Zeke said.

“Card player.  That’s clearly a six of diamonds you’re making.”

“Heh” Zeke said, stopping for just an instant to look at what he was drawing.  “Yeah.  It kinda does.  I never thought of that one before.”

“So, it’s not a six of diamonds.”

“No.”

“What is it?”  Hildegaard was leaning over the table more than the security guard liked.  His hands were slowly reaching for the club and tazer that were hanging from his belt.

“You know” Zeke said.  He flipped the paper over and began making dots again.

“Ah yes” Hildegaard said.  She opened a simple folder and glanced at the contents.  “I’ve read  your file.  You claim you were abducted by aliens several months ago.  The underside of the ship had six lights that were diamond shaped, and they pulsated and made some kind of high pitched noise.”

“Like nails on a chalkboard in stereo surround” Zeke said.  He glanced up at Hildegaard, and then back to the paper.  He continued to make the dots, but his pace slowed.

“You also said the aliens abducted you.”

“That’s right.”

“I know a lot of people claim to be abducted by aliens.  I understand you really believe what you saw.  The state can’t let you break into radio stations to spout off about how they’re preparing to invade.”

“Somebody has to warn the people” Zeke said.  He took a deep breath and started connecting dots.

“I’ve worked with several cases like yours, but yours is…the most extreme one I’ve worked with.  A lot of abductees don’t have the degree of…challenges you have.  They’re able to go on with their lives and not let an encounter with these little gray men affect them.”

“Not gray” Zeke said.

“Excuse me?”

“They weren’t little gray men with black eyes.  They were green.  Green and scaley.  They had teeth like a crocodile.  Bright, yellow eyes.  They breathed very heavy and smelled terrible.”

“Um…”  Hildegaard quickly flipped through her notes.  “I don’t remember you mentioning those details before, at least in what I read.”

“That’s because I didn’t” Zeke said.  He began shading in another set of small diamonds.

“Then this is progress” Hildegaard said.  “So, these crocodile like aliens…did they do anything to you?”

“Yes” Zeke said.  He started looking around for another piece of paper.  Hildegaard slowly pushed a mostly blank sheet of notes towards him.

“Why do you make the diamonds?” Hildegaard asked.

“It occupies my mind.  It keeps me from thinking about it.”

“What did they do to you that was so bad?” Hildegaard asked, trying very hard not to sound like shew as talking down to Zeke.

“They used some kind of machine to scan my body.  Take readings…ph levels, blood content, immune system…”  Zeke was still making dots, but he was doing it more slowly.

“Why do you think they let you go?”

“People disappearing is more suspicious than crazies talking about aliens” Zeke said calmly.  The security guard shook his head.  A static-y burst of chatter came out of his shoulder receiver.

“On it” the guard said as he pressed the button. “Ma’am, we’ve got a situation on this floor and I’m needed.  I’m going to have to end this.”

“No no no” Hildegaard said.  “His file indicates he isn’t dangerous.  Go.  I can handle things here.  Please” Hildegaard gave the guard a look, and he shook his head in frustration as he ran out of the room.  Zeke watched him leave.  He kept making dots, but his pace continued to slow down.

“I won’t try anything” Zeke said.

“I know” Hildegaard said.  “Now, maybe these aliens were just studying humans.  You don’t know they had malicious intent.”

“Yes I do” Zeke said.  He kept making dots, but they weren’t as perfect as before.

“How can you know?  You’ve said in countless reports,  you were in some kind of weird state and unaware of your surroundings.”

“I was supposed to be.  I…heard things.  Saw screens that had invasion routes…there…there was one practicing English in a raspy tone…surrender and death will be quick or something along those lines…he was hard to understand…”

“Really.  Aliens working on English and an invasion.  That’s quite a tale Mr. Clarksdale.  I wonder why you opened up to me about all of this information that isn’t in your file.”

“You know why” Zeke said.  His lines connecting the dots were uneven and squiggly.

“Excuse me?” Hildegaard said with surprise in her voice.

“Because I’ll never forget the smell…” Zeke looked up and right into her eyes.  Hildegaard’s smile disappeared just as the door opened.  The guard forced a smile as he closed the door.

“I’m done here” Hildegaard said.  She snatched the paper away from Zeke and stormed out.  Zeke let out a nervous exhale as his hands shook.

“Are you okay?” the guard asked.  “You’re as white as a sheet.”

“Yeah…” Zeke said.  “I’d like to go back to my room now…”

Ace of Diamonds

[picture will be uploaded later]

I’ve been using the aces of the deck to write about the four unique feline personalities that live with us.  Today, that honor falls to the youngest and most unique of all of them.  Truth be told, we wouldn’t have Eileen if we had listened to Bob Barker (and/or Drew Carey).  Weevil came into our house already fixed, but Logan and Mac didn’t.  They weren’t far apart in age, and they both felt the need to breed at about the same time.  Kate had been there and done that while living on a farm, but living on the not-even-close-to mean streets of Veblen with a step-father who was allergic to cats meant my experience with kittens was limited.  After several months, Mac gave birth to a litter of six kittens, which was shocking considering she weighted no more than seven pounds when she became pregnant.  There was one kitten that was bigger than the rest, and one scraggly runt of the litter that barely made it (but did).  As the kittens were starting to become mobile, I started giving them nicknames.  Kate advised me not to name them, because then I’d want to keep them.  She was half right about that.

One night when the kittens were slowly starting to get the hang of walking, there was a white kitten with crossed, light blue eyes that started to walk towards us.  The kitten was strong on her right side, but her left side almost caved in as she walked.  I watched her make about three perfect circles before she fell and started mewing.  Before Kate could say anything, I pointed at the kitten jokingly and said “I’m gonna call you Eileen.”  Kate laughed instantly, and unknown to me at the time my joke name would not only stick, but it would help Kate fall in love with a certain cross-eyed, circle walking kitten.

As the kittens grew older, we started finding good homes for them, except one.  Kate was willing to let her go, or so she said.  As the kittens were adopted, Eileen kept dodging the eyes of all those who took kittens home.  Finally, she was the last kitten standing, and we were out of people who wanted a kitten.  I wasn’t sure we could afford to have four cats, but Eileen was slowly winning me over.  She was unlike any cat I had ever seen.  Her body white, but her tail was gray.  One ear was black and gray, the other was orange and gray.  She had a bit of black and orange fur around one eye, and her white fur was slowly gaining other colors in spots, giving her a more off-white appearance.  Her crossed blue eyes were slowly uncrossing, but they suited her better when crossed.  Eileen had inherited her mom’s size, but she had unfortunately inherited her dad’s penchant for less-than-average cat intelligence.

When Mac started to push Eileen away, Eileen took to Kate like Kate was her mom.  Whenever Kate was sitting on the couch and Eileen walked in, she would jump up and rest on her shoulder or her “shelf” as Kate calls it.  Every time Kate would purse her lips at Eileen, the kitten would come up and start licking her face.  One night Kate and I were horsing around on the couch, and Kate made a shrill shriek while I was tickling her.  Eileen came running and started glaring at me.  Kate made another high pitched squeal, and Eileen jumped up to the couch and started to bat at me.  After that, Eileen was always easy to find.  All Kate had to do was raise her voice to it’s highest pitch and Eileen would come running from wherever she might be, ready to defend her new mom.

Logan and Mac don’t have a strong allegiance to either one of us more than the other, but now Kate has an Eileen to my Weevil.  Weevil is our trump card ace of spades, but Eileen is our little ace of diamonds.  She’s unique, precious…and at times pointy on all sides (when the call comes in).  I questioned whether or not we could afford to have four cats, but I know now our lives are forever richer for letting Eileen join our family.

Four of Hearts

I’m going to go ahead and admit something right now: I have nothing.

When I first conceived this idea back in December, I knew there would be weeks where I would struggle for something to write about.  I didn’t know what card would be the one that finally ended my run, but I didn’t have the four of hearts on the list.  I spent a good chunk of my idea time trying to think of something to write involving the four of clubs (or just a card) that I could do in 500 – 1000 words, but no luck.  I’m reduced to using the card to talk about how I couldn’t think of what to write about.

Lame, I know.

The temptation to call it a day with this blog is there.  I can’t deny the siren song of the easy way out.  I don’t have many readers, and I know some of the stuff I’ve written isn’t my best.  I do have some unfinished business, like the last of my “aces” series about our cats.  I still have four parts of “inside/outside” straight, featuring Derek Winters.  I also need to finish “Two Island Lake”, which I hope to turn into a much larger work in the future.  There are a few other cards I have ideas for, but the four of hearts was not one of them.

One of the other reasons to shut it down here is that it takes away time from the book I’m working on.  Chapter three is only halfway done, but that isn’t a bad thing.  The ending is still a work in progress, even with the rest of the book plotted out in my head.

Another thing I’d like to do is Cliffhanger Theater II.  For those just finding their way here, or for anyone who didn’t read it (and there were many people who didn’t read it), Cliffhanger Theater was a blog story I wrote a minimum of 500 words (on average) for each day over the course of a year.  It taught me a lot about pacing, characters, and how important it is to work on my writing.

So, again, I am sorry for totally copping out on the four of hearts.  The card deserved more, and I let it down.  Tune in next week for something (hopefully) more interesting.

Three of Hearts

***threeofhearts*** has signed in

threeofhearts: r u on?

robotboots13: yeah, just working on some blogs and stuff

threeofhearts: i just wanted to see how you’re doing

robotboots13: no complaints here

threeofhearts: ok good

robotboots13: how are things in your neck of the woods

robotboots13: ?

threeofhearts: Things are good.  School is keeping me busy

robotboots13: Yah work is keeping me pretty busy here.

threeofhearts: Seeing anyone?

robotboots13: Nope.  There’s a shocker.

threeofhearts: Ha, no really I thought you’d be dating someone by now

robotboots13: No such luck.  You and I only started dating due to several odd coincidence

robotboots13: I’ve not had any of those lately

threeofhearts: whatevs

robotboots13: it’s true

threeofhearts: you deserve someone.  you’ll find her

robotboots13: one of these days

threeofhearts: I’m serious

robotboots13: yeah yeah

threeofhearts: You’re everything a girl wants?

robotboots13:Everything?  I’m obviously missing something since you broke things off

threeofhearts: I had my reasons…i’m sorry.  I just want you to be happy.  I didn’t think you’d be happy with me

robotboots13: I was only happy with you

threeofhearts: You wouldn’t have been in time

robotboots13:we’ll never know

threeofhearts: I just want you to find someone

robotboots13: I hear you found someone

threeofhearts: It’s not the one guy you probably think it is

robotboots13:I was hoping it wasn’t that guy

threeofhearts: His name is Craig

robotboots13:Do you still talk to Vern?

threeofhearts: Hah, no.  I thought you were asking about Garth

robotboots13:I take that as a no?

threeofhearts: No…Vern is way history

robotboots13:Good.  I never liked that guy

threeofhearts: Like you’d like any guy I date

robotboots13:I don’t have anything against them

threeofhearts: It’s me you have something against?

robotboots13:no…i just…no

threeofhearts: It’s okay…really.  I’d hate me too

robotboots13:I don’t hate you.  Maybe that’s the problem

threeofhearts: I don’t hate you either.  I just…you did your best.  You and I just wouldn’t work in the long term.

robotboots13:I tried.  I was willing to try anything.

threeofhearts: That’s why I don’t think you’d be happy.  You’d try so hard and become someone you weren’t.

robotboots13:So you decided for me?

threeofhearts: It wasn’t easy

robotboots13:Obviously, since you were dating Garth within two weeks.

threeofhearts: Yeah well…

robotboots13: Yeah well indeed.  Then there’s the phone call.

threeofhearts: Phone call?

robotboots13: You called a few weeks ago and told me about going over to some friend’s place.  You gave me a nice long description of how you were making out with your friend’s husband while drunk, and what that all led to.

threeofhearts: I…what.  Oh god…I really called?

robotboots13: Yep, and you kept saying “I have no idea why you’re telling me this”

threeofhearts: I must have been drunk, or…crap…I remember now.  I was in a weird mood.

robotboots13: I’ll say.

threeofhearts: I’m sorry…I wasn’t trying to hurt you or push you away further…I…jeez, I don’t know what I was thinking

robotboots13:It’s fine.  It’s over now.

threeofhearts: It’s not fine.  You brought it up.

robotboots13:Well, I was angry at the time, but I got over it.

threeofhearts: Why can’t you stay mad at me?

robotboots13:Were you trying to make me mad?  Give me a reason to hate you?

threeofhearts: No, no no…

threeofhearts: I don’t know what I was thinking

robotboots13: It’s over and done with now

threeofhearts: I’m sorry

robotboots13:Forget it

threeofhearts: You didn’t.

robotboots13:Yeah well…I should go to bed.  I need to go into work early.

threeofhearts: …

threeofhearts: all right.  sweet dreams

threeofhearts: i’m sorry

threeofhearts: I wasn’t trying to hurt you

threeofhearts: I just…

robotboots13:It’s okay.

robotboots13:G’nite

***robotboots13*** has signed out

Seven of Spades

Inside/Outside Straight, part 1 of 5

“I’m sorry sir, you’re not allowed to play with cards while in the restaurant.”  The woman was trying to look stern, but the man simply kept turning cards in his hand.  He sat the deck on the table, and his stern demeanor slowly morphed into a smirk.

“Company policy?” he asked without looking at the waitress.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Are you the manager tonight?”

“Yes, I am.  I know our waitress told you once before to put them away.”

“Well, in that case…” the man looked up a the manager.  His eyes were barely visible behind the dark lenses of his glasses. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a roll of bills.  He sat a hundred dollar bill on the table.  “How about I call that a tip, and you let me keep flipping cards around?”

“Sir…I really…” she was looking at the hundred dollar bill and weighing her options, but before she could continue he sat another one on top of it.

“I could use a few more sugar packets.  I like my coffee sweet.”

“Right away” the woman said as she took the bills with a half-hearted smile.  The man looked towards the door, and saw a man walk in.  He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his slacks were perfectly pressed.  His hair was parted on the side, and it didn’t move an inch as he walked to the waitress waiting to seat him.  The man with the cards held up his hand, holding up the deck for everyone to see.  The man waved off the waitress and walked over to the booth.  He slowly took off his jacket and sat down.  His suit jacket was black with white pinstripes, and his white shirt was as rigid as his hair.  He sat across from the man with the cards, and the air of the bench seat cushion escaped rapidly.  “Is that a full deck” the man in the suit asked.

“Nope, I’m missing a card.”  The man with the cards lowered his arm and sat the deck face up.  The jack of diamonds was showing.

“This one?”  The man in the suit reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a six of clubs.

“Yes.  You must be Derek Winters.”  The man took the card and offered his hand to Derek.

“I know you.  You’re Keith Barnes.  I’ve seen  you on the World Poker Tour. You’re one of the up and coming players.”

“I didn’t know you were a poker fan Mr. Winters.”

“I watch it when I’m home.  I play a little, but not professionally.  It’s more a hobby.”

“Yes, well, we all need our hobbies Mr. Winters.”  Keith slowly sipped his coffee.

“I’m curious why you wanted to meet with me.”

“Oh” Keith said, putting down his coffee.  “Why is that?”

“I’m a museum security consultant, and I own an antique shop in Philadelphia.  So, unless you bought a museum, or want to buy some antiques, I don’t know how I can help you.  How did you even know I’d be in Minneapolis this weekend, much less what hotel I was staying in?”

“I…” Keith stopped as the waitress brought him a plate of chicken strips.  She looked at Derek and smiled.

“Can I get you anything?”

Derek smiled, but Keith cut him off as he started to speak.  “I’m buying.”

“Just coffee” Derek said.  The waitress walked away as Keith dipped a chicken strip into a small dish filled with honey mustard.

“You should really try the honey mustard.  It’s delish” Keith said.  Derek crinkled his nose a bit.

“I’m not really a Perkins kind of guy” he said.  “You haven’t told my yet how you knew I’d be in Minneapolis this weekend.”

“Alistair” Keith said, just before shoving the rest of the chicken strip in his mouth.  Derek’s casual smile gave way to a look of stern seriousness.

“Oh.  I see.  Do you think this is a good place to talk about this?”

“It’s before the bar rush, and the police don’t eat here until later.  That, and I was really craving the honey mustard.”  Keith kept eating as Derek nodded to the waitress who brought him some coffee.

“So, how did you find Alistair?”

“I may not have a WPT title, but I’ve made enough money to know a few things.  That, and I have…other ways.”

Derek frowned as he took a sip of coffee.  “Isn’t being a cliomancer kind of cheating?”

“Is a baseball player taking steroids cheating if the best players are doing it?”  Derek took a pause after Keith spoke, and then shook his head.

“Yes, but I’m not here to be a moral authority.  Why me?”

“I heard about your job with the Liberty Bell.”

“Then you probably know I’m semi-retired after a few less than stellar jobs Alistair hooked me up with.”

“That’s where we can help each other Derek.  You need your groove back, and I need to win a major WPT event.  We can help each other.  I have an easy job that should boost your confidence.  I get something that helps me win the WPT.  It’s a win-win.”

Derek drummed his fingers on the table.  Keith had barely looked at him since he’d walked in.  “All right.  What’s the job?”

“Ever heard of Black Jack McGrew?”

“Nope.”

“He was a famous poker player in the late 19th century.  At least, he was famous among poker players, and in St. Louis.  He was shot dead during a tournament on a riverboat, just as he’d drawn the winning hand.  A straight flush of spades, six through ten.”

“Why was he shot?”

“Does it matter?”

“No…just curious.”

“Well, no one knows.  What I know, is that they have his hand on display at the Missouri History Museum in St. Louis.  Some of his blood is still on the cards.”

“You want me to steal the cards?”

“That’s right” Keith said with a wicked smile.  He was looking right through Derek.  “Plus, since you’re semi-retired, and coming off a few bad hands at your game, I’m thinking your usual fee is a bit high.  After all, I haven’t won any major tournaments.”

“If you’re going to intimidate me, try harder” Derek said.  “I’ve worked for scarier characters than you, who made bigger threats.”

“No threats.  Just negotiating.”

“Tell you what…” Derek was suddenly grinning from ear to ear.  “I’ll take half up front, mine to keep whether I succeed or fail.  I get the rest, with interest, after you win your first major WPT tournament.”

“I see” Keith was no longer smiling, but he didn’t look displeased either.  “Well, I think that’s a deal I can live with.  I’ll wire you the money once you’re in St. Louis.”

“I think we have a deal” Derek said.  He finished his coffee and started pouring another.  Keith slid him a seven of spades.

“That has my cell on it, along with the number of the curator of the Missouri History Museum.  I know he’s not one of your clients, so I hope your schmoozing skills are up to par.”

“Mr. Barnes, you have nothing to worry about.  Those cards are as good as yours.”

[This five parter is based on an old, failed, Unknown Armies RPG character.  Derek Winters: occult thief never worked out with dice, but hopefully he works out in short story form.]

Seven of Diamonds

No matter how many times I blinked, I found myself awake.

It was just around sunrise, and while I didn’t want to wake up, I thought it would be as good a time as any.  Slowly, I sat up and surveyed the bedroom floor.  I saw a pair of jeans that I had been wearing last night, and that looked good enough for me.  With some socks and an old Knicks shirt, I was on my way downstairs.  My stomach was gurgling for some food, but there would be no food for at least an hour while my thyroid medication.  After my pill and a healthy glass of water were down, I thought I’d take the opportunity to get a few things done.  I walked past my study, and the call to write was strong.  I grabbed one of the several small notebooks by the door, so I could jot down ideas while I took care of a few things.

The readings on the power box were just the way I like them.  There was enough wind on the overnight to sell back to the power company, and today’s early fall day would keep the air conditioning off for most of the day.  I started gathering the sticks that had been collecting around the house.  I know Kate loves a good fire, and the only way to surprise her is to start getting it ready while she sleeps.  Once I had all the sticks collected, I took an armful of wood back to the old stump in the backyard.  With ax in hand, I began splitting wood.  That took up about an hour altogether, so I put the ax back in the shed and made my way to the kitchen.  Braeden had a big smile on his face as he shoveled a big spoonful of shredded wheat into his mouth.  “Hey kiddo.  I hope you saved a bit for me.”

“Of course daddy.  Can we play baseball out in the yard later?”

“Of course.  I just have to do a few more things and then it’s another summer day for us.”  I walked past him and rubbed his head.  His bed-head hair couldn’t get any messier.

“That’s okay.  I have a few more Batmans to watch on the TV downstairs.”

“Remember, don’t watch the new ones without me.”  I opened the fridge and pulled out a diet dew, just as the twins ran into the room.  “Morning B’Elanna.  Morning Anjelica.”

“Morning daddy” they said in unison.  They were past me in no time, and quickly pouring themselves overflowing bowls of cereal.  I took a quick turn down the stairs, and found Kate in the laundry room.  She turned and smiled as she dumped a full basket into the washer.

“You’re up early” she said.

“I couldn’t sleep anymore.  Besides, I did get most of the yard tidied up.  Are you still running into Pierre later?”

“I should, but I think we’ll be fine on cat food and litter.”  I walked over to her and held her tightly.

“Ready to work on number four?”

“Not right this second” she said as she playfully pushed me away.  I kissed her and waved as I jogged up the steps.

“I’m going to finish up in the garden for the day” I said as I walked towards the front door.  Weevil and Logan are hanging out by the front door, and I spend a few minutes petting them.  Before I know it, I’m holding all the kids and feeling the cats circle around my legs.  Kate starts to look for the camera, and it hits me.

She is looking for the camera, but I’m not in South Dakota.  I shake my head back and forth, and look at the computer screen.  The lottery numbers on the screen don’t match the rumpled ticket on my desk.  I crumple the ticket up and toss it in the trash.  “Honey, do you know where the camera is?”

“Afraid not” I say as I stare at the seven of diamonds.  Well, back to writing I think to msyelf.

Ace of Spades

Back on Halloween 2005 I recieved a call from Kate.  She was doing laundry in Minneota at a friend’s brother’s place, and a stray cat had found her.  He was nuzzling her while she was hauling stuff out to the car, and the cat kept following her as she went door to door around the neighborhood to see if anyone was missing a grayish/brown tiger-striped cat.  The cat was very tame, and it wore the markings of a house-cat (declawed and fixed) and a stray (his ears were mostly frozen off and he was rail thin).  No one claimed him, and no one could remember him being around until a few weeks ago.  She begged to bring him home, and even though I said yes, she had already loaded him in the car and was on her way back.  When I arrived home to see the cat, he was hiding in the bathroom.  He was a lot bigger than I expected, and he looked very timid.  There was another cat living with us at the time named Gia, and she was no fan of the new cat.  The new cat had no name, and I took it upon myself to name him.  Something about his face reminded me of the character of Eli ‘Weevil’ Navarro from “Veronica Mars”, so Weevil became his name.  The name turned out to be oddly appropriate.

On TV, Eli Navarro had done some time.  Weevil the cat would be in lock up by the end of the night.  Kate’s cat Gia liked to play a bit rough, and she assumed Weevil would be the same.  Weevil didn’t care for rough play, and he voiced his displeasure before sinking his fangs right through Kate’s fingertip, including the nail.  Within minutes he was in a cat carrier, and Kate was on the phone with the hospital.  We agreed to take him to the animal impoundment center for observation, rather than subject him to an immediate rabies test.  We met the officer at the impound center, and while he filled out paperwork Kate took Weevil out of the cat carrier.  He started purring, and he put his arms around Kate’s neck and nuzzled her.  This made turning him over a bit more difficult, but the officer convinced us it was the right idea.  Once Weevil was securely in ‘kitty jail’, we got back in Kate’s car, and I lost it.  I felt so bad for Weevil, since his odds of adoption weren’t good, and his hope of finding a home was looking like a death sentence.  I also felt bad for a cat nobody wanted, since before meeting Kate I frequently felt like someone nobody wanted .  Kate and I talked about it, and it was decided that we’d take him in if nobody claimed him. 

We kept checking on Weevil’s status, and after a week he wasn’t showing any signs of rabies.  Kate took Gia back to her parent’s house, and they allowed us to adopt Weevil as our own.  Having a home changed him pretty quickly, as he began to eat veraciously.  Within a month, he went from skin and bones to almost Garfield territory.  He had some odd quirks that began emerging as well.  He hissed at my oscillating fan.  He was scared to death of vacuum cleaners.  The sound of a lawn mower had him cowering in a corner, or holding onto Kate like a frightened child.  He also began to nip at us on odd occasions.  He would chase us in the dark, nipping at our heels if we weren’t quick.  One night I was plopped on the sofa with Kate, and he got this crazy look in his eye.  He charged at us, let out a short growl, and bit my knee.  After the bite, he just turned and walked towards his food dish, completely calm and acting like nothing had happened.  As time went on, he grew to like me more and more, and Kate less and less (which is totally unfair, since she’s the one who rescued him).

A few months later, we decided to get a second cat, one Kate could call her own.  Logan came into our house as a tiny kitten, barely old enough to be adopted.  Weevi’s first reaction to Logan came at the food dish.  Weevil was chowing down, and Logan decided he wanted to eat as well.  Weevil was without claws, but not without a wicked right cross.  One swat sent Logan rolling across the room.  Luckily, Logan was perky and persistent enough to win Weevil over.  It’s odd to think about those days now, as Logan has grown up bigger than Weevil in any measurable sense.  Weevil eventually found himself facing Mac, and then Eileen.  Both times, he was hostile for about a week, and then he either came to terms or just “gave up” and accepted the increasing cat population.  His attitude about our son has been…odd.  While Kate was in the hospital, I brought one of Braeden’s blankets home so the cats would be used to the baby’s scent.  Weevil saw the blanket right away, sniffed it, and then he plopped on it like it was his own.  Now, he frequently sleeps outside Braeden’s door at night, almost like a guard dog.  He doesn’t have much patience for Braeden pulling his fur, but what cat does?

When I assigned aces to the cats, I knew right away Weevil would be the ace of spades.  He always acts like he’s the king of the cats (although so does Logan, especially since Logan became the largest cat in the house) and he came before the others.  He’s also not part of the other cat “family” so he’s a bit of an outsider.  Weevil also gets the fancy card because of how he loves to prove us wrong every single time we have company.  We warn people that he’s “grumpy” and “bites” and all that, then he’s the first cat to start rubbing on our guest’s legs, purring all the while.  Most of all, I gave him the ace of spades because he’s my favorite cat of all time, and it will be hard to find another cat I’ll care about as much.