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

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 Clubs

8:30 PM, somewhere in Nebraska

Evan slowly walked towards the tree.  It was the only tree still standing that he could see.  All the leaves were gone, and the bark had been stripped away on most of the old cottonwood tree.  Rain pelted Evan’s face as he put his hand on the damp trunk.  He looked down, and slowly took in deep breath after deep breath.  His free hand was still shaking, but after a minute or two, it was holding steady at his side.  He looked up at the tree, and a foot above his hand, he spotted something.

Three hours earlier

“Dude, this is going to be the day!”  Scooter started spinning the tuning knob on the car, but other than bursts of static and song Evan didn’t hear anything.  He was too busy watching the skies and the road, and in that order.

“I still don’t think this is the day.  Besides, I’m not sure I want there to be a day.”

“Evan, for real?  We went to that spotter training class two years in a row.  We’ve been sitting on the sidelines for a while.  It is time to embrace our time in the storm chasing spotlight.  We both have the evening off, we both got away from our girlfriends, and our cell phones are fully charged.”  Scooter was pressing F5 the whole time he was talking, and when he stopped talking he looked at the screen of his laptop.  “Severe thunderstorm warnings two counties over.  I think we might finally see our first tornado.”

“Will one be enough for you?”  Evan said.  He fumbled around the steering wheel until the windshield wipers were on, as they had driven into the very front of a massive storm system.

“I hear the urge only gets stronger the more often you see ‘em.”  Scooter yanked the data card from the side of his computer.  “We go West.  I’ll check radar in another half hour or so.”

Two hours earlier

Scooter tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along with the rhythm of some old song on the radio.  They were the only car at the small town convenience store.  The skies were dark all around, and rain was pounding whatever surface it could find.  Evan ran from the store to the car, and even his rapid opening of the door, followed by a loud slam, didn’t disrupt Scooter’s finger drumming.  “How much?”

“This one’s on me.  I’ll need a good, stiff drink when we’re done.  In the meantime, root beer will have to do.”  Evan tossed Scooter a bag of Corn Nuts and an Orange Crush as he adjusted the passenger seat.  Scooter ripped open the corner of the bag of Corn Nuts, while Evan downed half a bottle of Barq’s in record time.

“This station just broke into programming with a warning.  The action is on the other side of the next county over.”  Scooter turned the keys, and his Subaru came back to life.  Evan’s face quickly recovered from the burning sensation of carbonated root beer taking an expressway into his stomach.

“Seriously, don’t hydroplane this time.  Last time we went off looking for a bad storm,  you were all over the place.  I didn’t bring my motion sickness pills.”

“That’s not my fault” Scooter said as the Subaru quickly darted back onto a Nebraska state highway.

One hour ago

“DUDE!  ARE YOU SEEING THIS?”  Scooter’s voice was full of life and excitement.  It carried over the sounds of hailstones hitting his car.

“YES, YES I AM.  I’M SEEING A FEW SMALL CRACKS ON YOUR WINDSHIELD.”  Evan had a small camcorder aimed at the windshield, but his body was pressed flat against the seat.  The hail was coming down fast, and the rain was hitting them almost horizontally.

“THIS…THIS IS FRIGGIN’ AWESOME!”  Scooter sounded as excited as Evan was scared.  The radio crackled with heavy static as the car kept speeding into the heart of the storm.

“THIS IS CRAZY!”  Evan kept thinking about all the things he’d  never done in his life, even though most of them were things he couldn’t do, shouldn’t do, or probably wouldn’t do if given the opportunity.

“THIS…THIS IS WHAT WE’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT DOING FOR YEARS!  FINALLY, WE’RE GETTING ONE!  TORNADO, HERE WE COME!!!”

Thirty minutes ago

Evan and Scooter’s jaws were almost dragging behind the car.  They had pulled to a stop when the EAS sounded on the radio.  A massive tornado was maybe a few miles ahead of them to the West.  The dull roar was just barely audible over the tone on the radio.  They were in the middle of nowhere, and there was no other car in sight.  “We…we have to get into a ditch or under a bridge!” Evan’s words came out in a quick burst of verbiage, and he was trying to open his car door while Scooter’s face was locked on the storm, his eyes following the dark finger of the heavens as it smeared the Nebraska landscape.

“It’s coming this way…if we drive at a ninety degree angle…”

“No way!  They can change track quickly!”

“They can also dissipate quickly.  We can do this.”

“I can’t…you’re insane!  I don’t know why I agreed to this…Felicia is going to kill me!”  Evan opened the car door.  The roar was even louder now.  The tornado didn’t look like it was moving, but it looked like it was getting bigger and closer every second.

“I’m going to make a go for it.  I’m not giving up now that we found one.  I need more footage!  I’ve never felt more alive!  Evan, don’t you feel alive?”  Scooter’s eyes briefly broke away from the storm, only to see Evan slamming the car door before he ran for the ditch.  Scooter rolled down the passenger window, and twisted his body towards it.  “I’LL FIND YOU LATER!”  Scooter floored the accelerator, and he turned the car Northward.  He was soon steering with his knees as he tried to get footage of the storm.

8:31 PM, somewhere in Nebraska

Evan sidestepped to his right to see what was in the tree.  Halfway stuck in the tree was a playing card.  It was wedged into a newly formed crack, just like it had been thrown into the tree by one of those card-throwers he’d seen on Letterman.  The rain was dripping down the plastic-coated six of clubs, of which only two clubs were visible.  Evan reached up as high as he could, and he grabbed the corner of the card.  It slid out of the tree, and then Evan just looked at the spot where the card had been.  There was what looked like a small crack, other than it was perfect, straight line.  Evan slid the card into his back pocket.  With his other hand, he reached into his front pocket.  He pulled out his phone, which still had a few bars of service.  He pressed the number five, and hit send.  “C’mon Scooter…pick up.  Please…”

Eight of Clubs

Bob Eubanks flipped over the card.  “Ohhh…it’s the eight of clubs!”  The contestant put her hands to her overteased hair.  Her face was a twisted mass of confusion and apprehension.

“Higher” she said in an unsure, timid voice.

“Higher than the eight…NO!” Bob said with as much fake sympathy as he could muster.  The reigning Card Sharks champion lowered her head to her podium as flashing lights surrounded the new champion.

“I tell you son…nothing worse than an eight in this game.”  The man snorted lightly and then took another large gulp of his Pabst, followed by a long drag from his cigarette.

“But dad, I like the number eight.  I’m eight.”

“Nothing wrong with the number eight…I’m just talkin’ about this show.  When they get an eight, there’s an equal number of cards above it and below it in the deck, but the trick is to remember how the deck is stacked.”

“So that’s how to win?”

“Not really.  I was watching.  She made the right call and still got it wrong.  That’s a good lesson for life.  Sometimes the eight comes up, and all you can do is guess and hope for the best.  A lot of life’s choices are like that.”

“Yeah, like marrying you” came a voice from the nearby kitchen.  The man threw his empty beer can towards the comment.  Percy looked back at the TV as the bonus round began.  If he focused on that, he could maybe tune out another argument his parents were having.  He had tried it often, but it never worked.

***

“Percy…PERCY!  Are you even listening to me?”  Percy snapped out of his childhood flashback.  He could smell the alcohol and smoke all around him.  The bar was loud, but Ray’s shouting was hard to ignore.

“Yeah…what’s this about?”

“It’s about work.  There’s a speaker in town who’s giving a free lecture to all of us who got let go when the plant closed.  I’m goin’.  There’s free food.  I think you should come.”

“Yeah…” Percy looked down at his empty beer bottle.  He didn’t have enough cash to keep drinking, and he hadn’t eaten since the plant closed the day before.  “Is this guy going to tell me how to make rent?”

“Worry about that another day.  I’m goin’ for the free food.  Are you in or out?”

“In.  I just need to settle up.”  He dropped a few ones on the bar and followed Ray out to the lot.  Ray’s brown Impala was parked right out front in a handicapped spot. “I can’t believe you still have that permit.”

“Taking a metal shard through the knee isn’t something you get over right away.  That and my doctor is a sucker for a good sob story.”  Ray’s rust-bucket roared to life, and Percy shoved a seat full of soda cans and gum wrappers onto the floor.  He stared out the window as Ray droned on and on about his girlfriend and their problems.  Percy kept thinking about making the rent for next month, finding a job, his parents, and the army.  He thought about trying to join the army again, but his criminal record would probably have the final say once again.  Ray smacked him on the arm suddenly.

“I know you stopped paying attention a long time ago, but we’re here.”  Ray and Percy got out and started walking into the hotel.  They followed the signs until they found a conference room, which was almost full.  Percy looked at the sign, but he’d never heard of James Styng or something called Arbco Strategies and Marketing.  Ray and Percy spotted a table filled with pizzas, and they went right over.

“Are you two here for the seminar?” a young woman in red asked.

“We certainly are” the men said in unison.

“Well, it’s all you can eat.  I just need some basic information.  Name, address…but I promise we won’t send you junk mail.”

“Fair enough” Ray said.  Percy started filling in the info as quickly as he could.  Soon, both he and ray were in their seats, each with a plate full of pizza.  “Man, this is the good stuff.  This is from the best place in town.”

“Well, it’s worth whatever scam this guy is peddling.”  Percy said.  No sooner did he finish than the woman in red had made her way to the podium.

“Ladies and gentleman, James Styng!”  The room responded to his intro with lukewarm applause.  James Styng walked to the front of the room.  He had on black jeans, a deep blue denim shirt, and a red tie.  He looked very young, fit, and athletic.  He didn’t have any props, gadgets or even a note card.  He took the microphone off the stand, and walked in front of the podium.  His face was totally serious.

“Good evening everyone.  Glad to see we had such a great turnout.  I suppose you’re wondering why I bribed you all to show up?”  The room let out a small snicker, and James flashed a quick smile before once again looking stern and forthright.  “Well, I’ll tell you what I didn’t do to get you to show up.  That’s close the factory in town.  That’s the reason quite a few of you are here.  Did you know the company that owned the factory is sending your jobs to Mexico, Taiwan and China?  It’s true.  They’re also hiding millions…maybe even billions in offshore accounts.  Yet their stock continues to trade high, and your federal government is looking the other way.  They’re too busy looking at you…all of you.  Most jobs in this town are looking for college educated elites.  The government isn’t interested in giving you more education to help you get those jobs.  It only wants you to get jobs quickly, so it can begin taxing you all over again.  Taxing you and keeping you in the working class, while the upper class makes light of your plight.  People, I want to help.  You are not the problem.  You are all hard workers who want to make a living.  I’m here to tell you about how we can all make a difference.  A major difference in this country…in this world!  Arbco is looking for the kind of people in this room.  People who have the potential to inflict change.  People who want another chance.  People who not only want, but DESERVE to be heard, seen, and counted.  We have programs to help retrain you…maybe even educate you.  We don’t care about who you were before you came tonight.  Arbco is here to make you into the people who can help us change the world!  Dare I say revolutionize the world?  Together, we can make a real difference.  My associates and I are going to hand out some questionnaires…please be honest when filling them out.  Take your time, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.  Then, we’ll split you into groups and discuss future opportunities with Arbco.  Before we begin, I need to mention that Arbco doesn’t have an office branch in this town.  If you wish to work for Arbco, there’s a very good chance you’ll have to move.  If that doesn’t work, I thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoyed the pizza.”  James Styng was smiling by the end of his speech, and soon a stapled questionnaire was being handed to Percy.  Ray refused his when they presented it to him.

“Sorry…I’m not willing ot relocate.  C’mon Percy.”  Ray stood up, but Percy didn’t.

“Actually, I’m going to fill it out and talk to them.” Percy had already started filling in his personal info.

“Whatever.  I’m not waiting around.”  Ray tugged on Percy’s shoulder, but the woman in red shot him a glare that made him let go almost instantly.

“No worries.  We can give you a ride home Mr. Willis.”  The woman in red had walked over quickly, and she was nothing but smiles now that Ray had released Percy’s shoulder.

“Thanks…Miss…Miss…”

“You can call me Miss Demming.”

“All right.  Let me know how it all turns out” Ray casually walked out the door, but Percy didn’t watch him leave.  He was too busy reading the questionnaire.  He honestly answered the questions about his criminal background, and even the questions about his family’s histories of addiction and abuse.  Most of the questions had to do with his attitudes on the U.S. Government, and various world powers, which he found a bit odd.  There was also a section asking about his knowledge of survival and firearms.  Several minutes after he had turned in his questionnaire, he was enjoying more of the free pizza when James Styng came up to him.

“I read through your info.  I just want you to know that we have a place for you within our organization.  You’re the type we’re looking for.  Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you ever want to join the army, or some other branch of the armed forces?”

“Oh, for sure, but I made some dumb mistakes when I was younger.  Wrong way on pretty much every eight.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…I just want to start over.  Your company seriously won’t hold my mistakes over my head?”

“No.  Quite the contrary.  I think you’ll be just what this company needs.  In fact, we can start you tomorrow…”

***

“You’re WHAT?” Ray shouted over the phone.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.  Six AM sharp.  I don’t know when I’ll be back.  You have my apartment key.  Please keep an eye on my stuff.  My rent is up in two weeks.  You owe me for helping you move.”

“I know I know, but this is so sudden.  But whatever.  I’ll haul your crap out and put it in my garage.  What are you going to do?”

“Arbco security the way it sounds.  If I do well there, there are opportunities for me to advance…possibly even to law school.”

“Law school?  What the hell?  How does that work?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.  You take care of yourself and that lady friend.  You’re my favorite cousin, no matter what.”

“Back at ya.  Don’t forget to write.”

***

Ray rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way down the stairs.  It was just cold enough that his sore knee was acting up.  He moved the thin curtain in front of the door’s window, and Percy was looking back at him.  Ray hurriedly fumbled the lock and opened the door.  “Percy?  Is that you?”

“It is.  I can’t stay long.”  Ray looked Percy over.  Percy’s hair was cut into a neat crew cut, and his face was tan.  He was wearing a black jacket that looked a bit thin for Michigan in November.  His blue pants were neatly pressed, and his boots were laced up and looking brand new.

“You look great.  I was starting to worry about you.”  Ray closed the door as Percy walked in.  Percy blew into his hands and looked around from the entryway.

“Do you have some coffee?”

“Sure…sure.”  Ray walked into the kitchen, and Percy was right behind him.  Ray fired up the coffee maker as Percy sat at the kitchen table, still blowing into his hands.  “Percy, where the hell have you been?  This is the first I’ve heard from you in eighteen months!”

“Sorry…the job…it’s…more involved than I thought.  It’s kept me really busy.  Technically, I’m not even supposed to be here talking to you.”

“You’re AWOL from your job?”

“No…no.  I…just had an assignment around here, and I took the initiative to come and see you.  I miss you man.”

“Things aren’t the same without you around.  Naomi and I are living together now.  I’d love for you to come to our wedding in a year or so.  Right after I propose anyway.”

“I’ll try.  I’d like that.”

Ray watched the coffee drip slowly into the pot.  “So, what the heck does Arbco do anyway?  I couldn’t find much info…anywhere.  In fact, I can’t find anybody who’s even heard of Arbco.”

Percy looked about the kitchen nervously.  “Well, we…uh…we do a lot of contract work with Extensive Enterprises.  Have you heard of them?”

“No…wait, yes I have.  Naomi’s brother does a lot of stock trading, and he’s always raving about how well his EE stocks are doing.  What do they do?”

“Financial stuff…I mostly do…security…but they have branches everywhere.  I move around a lot.”

“What about training?  I thought this Arbco outfit was going to retrain you.”  Ray sat the coffee in front of Percy, but Percy’s face was almost blank.  He looked timid yet on the verge of exploding.

“I’ve learned a lot of stuff.  I’m hoping to get some advanced training in soon…things are good.  I finally found a place to belong.”  Percy slowly sipped his coffee, while Ray kept looking at a man who seemed uncomfortable in his home, and uncomfortable talking about being away from home.

***

“I got it” Ray said as he walked to the door.  He was hoping it would be Percy, as he hadn’t heard from him in two years, and Ray wanted him at his wedding in a few weeks.  Ray opened the door, only to see two men in army dress uniforms outside his door. One was an African-American sergeant, the other was a Caucasian lieutenant with longer hair than Ray would have expected.

“Are you Ray Willis?” the sergeant asked.  The name Wilkinson caught the sunlight as he asked.  Ray could feel the man’s glare though the dark glasses that hid Wilkinson’s eyes.

“I am…what’s this about?’

“Your cousin…Percy Willis…does that ring a bell?”  The blond lieutenant was now talking.  Ray spotted the name Rich on his uniform.

“Yeah….he was last here about two years ago.  I was actually hoping he was going to be you…I mean, him knocking…I mean…what’s this about?”

“I’m afraid you cousin has passed away.  I’m sorry for your loss” Wilkinson said.

“Percy’s dead?”  Ray slumped against the side of his home.  He looked down at the porch and shook his head.  “What happened?”

“I’m afraid there…was an incident.  The actual details are classified.  We are sorry for your loss, but we need to ask a question.”

“Oh…okay…”  Ray looked up at the sergeant.  The blond man was staring at him without glasses.  It felt like he was looking right through him.

“Before he died, he mumbled something about eights.  Do you know what that meant?”

“Percy loved that old game show Card Sharks.  He always went on about how…eights were a lot like life.  He claimed he always went wrong on them, but the last time I saw him he said that this Arbco company was the right call.  Why?”

The blond man nodded and started walking towards a black Humvee that was parked in front of Ray’s house.  The sergeant took off his glasses and looked down.  “Before he died, he was mumbling something about eights and dying.  We just wanted to make sure of what he was talking about.  Thanks for your time.  You’ll probably be getting a call from the funeral home pretty soon.”  Ray fought back tears as the black Humvee drove off down the street.

Ten of Clubs

This week I’m taking a break from writing stories to reflect a bit, and the ten of clubs inspired me to do a top ten list.  They aren’t my top ten albums of all time (well, a few of them are on that list too), but these are the ten albums that affected my life the most.  Two of the other three tens will be top ten lists as well, with the ten of spades being part of a five part story I’m working on.  After a week of thought, here’s my list of albums that have influenced me the most.

1.  Wang Chung Mosaic
One album had to be first, and this was it.  It was 1986, and this is where I started pouring money into the music industry.  It was a trip to a Kmart in South Fargo, and my friend Don was trying to help me get into popular music.  Up to this point, my music listening was whatever my mom listened to, which involved AM country on KFGO, and KFGO’s Sunday “Polka Party”.  I had jumped into music videos the night before, but not thanks to MTV.  Rather, it was all thanks to NBC’s “Friday Night Videos” and WTBS’ “Night Tracks”.  One of the songs I’d heard that really stuck in my head was “Let’s Go” by Wang Chung.  I hadn’t heard any of the other songs on Mosaic (yes, I was still so new at this I’d missed “Everybody Have Fun Tonight”), but I made the decision to buy it anyway (along with A Different Light by the Bangles, but that was an after I’d found Wang Chung).  It started me down an early life of pop albums, including tapes by Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, and Madonna.  While I’ve not listened to Mosaic in about 20 years, one album had to be first.  I did rip “Let’s Go” onto my computer from an 80s compilation, and I’m not ashamed.  It’s a damn catchy song.

2.  Kix Blow My Fuse
The music I was buying after Wang Chung was all over the place, but mostly in the pop vein.  I had made a few exceptions (Whitesnake & Aerosmith), but Kix’s Blow My Fuse was the album that had the biggest impact on this stage of  my musical journey, and at the time it was for a very strange reason.  I remember bringing my boom-box into the living room by the computer, and listening to this cassette about three times in a row.  Suddenly, I had an epiphany.  If I liked every song on this album, why don’t I just buy albums like this?  Thus, my journey into hair-metal had truly began.  It seems silly to look back on that now and realize my decision was made from a fiscal standpoint.  One too many pop albums with just a few good songs had already done their damage, and years later this attitude would be shared by plenty of Napster users.  My journey into the world of hair-metal was on, but I had my limits.  I wasn’t going to let myself get into any bands thought of as devil worshipers, like AC/DC…

3.  AC/DC Back in Black
Oops.  My friend Robby listened to a lot of AC/DC, and mostly Back in Black.  I didn’t hear anything that had to do with Satan, or hell, or anything like that.  Granted, I was still naive enough to not know what “Given the Dog a Bone” or “Let Me Put My Love Into You” was about.  The only thing about AC/DC that stood out to me was just how damn much they rocked.  I picked this album up for myself a few months later, and eventually I’d have all of their albums.  Whenever I wanted to listen to AC/DC, it almost always came back to Back in Black.  Eventually, I started listing this as my all-time favorite album, which I still do to this day.  AC/DC had entered my psyche, but I was drawing the line.  I wasn’t about to start listening to really heavy metal like Metallica.

4.  Metallica Master of Puppets
Once again, I made myself a promise I couldn’t keep.  My friend George was really into Metallica, and after I’d bought and not cared for the “One” cassette single, he suggested I give this one a try.  I was afraid of going down this path musically, but after one listen it was way too late.  Lyrically, Master of Puppets should have blown my fragile hair-rock mind, but what pulled me into this album wasn’t James Hetfield’s vocals, but the music.  It was loud, fast, tight, and it demanded my attention.  Soon, I was picking up old Metallica albums, and branching into dark corners that held Megadeth, Danzig, and others.

5.  Warrant Ultraphobic
Nirvana and Pearl Jam aren’t on this list.  I enjoyed Nirvana when they broke, and I almost wore out my copy of Pearl Jam’s Ten.  I was a regular reader of Rip magazine, and they featured Nirvana and Pearl Jam alongside stories of Skid Row and Slaughter.  In my isolated corner of South Dakota, I wasn’t aware a battle for the soul of rock n’ roll had already been fought and decided.  When I arrived at college, it was all flannel and grunge.  Hair metal was so last year or so.  There were a few holdouts besides me, but not many.  Slowly, they started either listening to the new sound, or just listening to the old stuff from the 80s.  I couldn’t live with nostalgia rock; I needed new.  I’ve always had an insatiable need to hear what a band/artist is going to do next, and once a band breaks up or retires, my interest seems to vanish with them.  Some of the hair bands kept going while most faded away.  In 1995, Warrant did something else.  They made a grunge-ish album called Ultraphobic.  Most Warrant fans from back in the day called it a sellout, or worse.  Fans of the Seattle sound were not to be bothered with Warrant, and the album is now mostly forgotten.  I thought it might be Warrant’s best album ever, and I still do.  Was it a sellout?  Maybe.  Was it a band trying to survive and move with the times?  Could be.  Did this album deserve better?  I think so, and I still enjoy it from time to time.  In my mind there was no reason for 80s and 90s rock to not co-exist.  It may be an oversimplification, but in my head rock was rock, sub-genres be damned.  The other reason this album makes the list is that it was the beginning of the end.  By next year, I was at a musical crossroads.  The hair rock bands were all but gone, and the few left were doing nostalgia tours or releasing greatest hits collections.  In 1996, this came to a head as I had two directions to go.  I could either go heavier, and listen to bands like Slayer.  Or, I could broaden my horizons, and start listening to a wider variety.

6. Sheryl Crow Sheryl Crow
I still remember the day like it was yesterday.  I’d seen something in one of the trade magazines at work about a new Sheryl Crow song.  I thought “All I Wanna Do” was catchy, but I’d listened to the college station’s copy of Tuesday Night Music Club and found it lacking.  I kept seeing all this buzz about a song called “If It Makes You Happy”, but the hard rock station I worked at had nothing to do with Sheryl Crow.  One afternoon I was home from work, and I flipped on VH1.  A video was on of a woman I didn’t recognize.  The song had snarl, sleazy guitars, and a delivery that straddled “go away” and “come here”.  As I watched, I kept waiting for the end of the song so I could see who was singing.  I was thinking about how sleazy and attractive the singer was, and my interest in the song was increasing the longer I listened.  As soon as the chorus starated, I yelled out “Oh my God!  That’s Sheryl Crow!”.  I waited for the song to end, and then I walked to Media Play and bought the album.  It became a regular staple of my musical diet, and at the end of the year, when it was time to name my top CD of the year, I was torn between Sheryl Crow and Slayer’s Undisputed Attitude.  I did a split top ten, with one containing best-of albums and cover albums (of which Slayer’s album was), and a list without those types of albums.  I had Sheryl on top of the second list, and I didn’t feel like I was giving up on metal.  Rather, I felt like a whole new world was opening up that was just down the street from the hair metal house where I’d been staying.  I still visit, but Sheryl Crow helped me keep moving all around the neighborhood.  After all, it’s better to be a musical couch surfer, right?

7. Ani DiFranco Little Plastic Castle
Ani DiFranco was on the cover of Spin magazine in 1997, and thanks to somebody leaving it at the station, I read a fascinating article about a singer I’d never heard of, who wasn’t on a major or even minor label, who was doing things her own way and succeeding.  My roommate’s sister was a big fan, and she encouraged me to check her stuff out.  On a trip to Brookings in February of 1998, I saw her new album on the shelf, and I picked up a copy without ever having heard a song.  It was unlike anything else I had ever bought, and it was just the album I wanted to hear.  For the first decade of my music listening, I couldn’t get into most female singers.  Something about them just didn’t sit right with me.  Here was a female singer who rocked without rock music.  She had passion and fire, and she was doing everything on her own terms.  How could anyone not admire her?  It was only a matter of time before I had every one of her albums.  While Out of Range is my favorite Ani album, I would never have heard it without Little Plastic Castle.

8. Spooncat The American Jiggler
Similarly to Ani DiFranco, that same roommate’s sister thought I’d enjoy this local band from Sioux Falls.  I remember hearing them and not knowing what to think.  Two keyboards?  A horn section?  What were they?  After seeing them live countless times, I still don’t know how to describe them as anything other than the most fun band I’ve ever seen, and possibly one of the most talented bands I’ve ever seen.  They can cover most anything, and sometimes without any rehearsal.  Their original stuff ranges from fun, to food for thought.  When they’re on and having fun, I’ve never seen a band have more fun being a band.  I’ve seen them more times than I can count, and while their albums never quite capture their live energy, they hold up well on their own.  This is the album that came out around the time they hooked me, so even though the final mix is missing the bass (something the band is working on for a future re-release or download) I’ll give it the number eight spot.

9.  Sarah Harmer You Were Here
Sheryl Crow’s album was the first album that wasn’t hard rock or metal to get my album of year nod.  Then, Ani DiFranco started me down a path that was littered with singer-songwriters.  When I went to an Ani concert, the opening band was Sarah’s old group Weeping Tile.  After wearing out the EP I picked up at the show, I found out the band had broken up, but the lead singer was releasing a solo album.  In 2000, Sarah Harmer released this gem, and for months I couldn’t stop listening to it.  Sarah had taken a break-up and crafted what might be the most heartfelt album ever inspired from a broken heart.  Every song hits on a different emotion.  Every song is a keeper.  I’ve actually sat and tried to think of a flaw this album has, and I can’t think of one.  While Sheryl Crow and Ani DiFranco had started pushing me into more singer-songwriter territory, this CD was the last shove I needed to start really enjoying mellow music without thinking I was getting old and mellowing out.  Mellowing out was a small price to pay for such a good album.  The only downside of this album is that everything I’ve heard from Ms. Harmer since hasn’t been as good.  Methinks she set the bar way too high.

10. MC Lars The Graduate
Working CHR/Top-40 radio has some occupational hazards.  One of them involves starting to like the music you play, and some of the genres you play.  I thought it was a universal truth that as people got older, they clung to their familiar music more, and shunned what was popular and new.  I had never been a huge fan of rap music, but I’d dabbled a bit.  Most people my age like rap less as they get older (especially if they didn’t care for it much to start with), but this is yet another thing my brain somehow goofed up.  Either of Ludacris’ first two albums could be in this spot as well, but I’ll give the nod to MC Lars because he was the first rapper I’d heard rap about stuff I was interested in.  How had I missed the slow rise of nerdcore rap up until this point?  The Graduate prove itself a gateway drug for MC Frontalot and Optimus Rhyme. but it had another effect.  Soon, I was buying Jay-Z albums as well, and I was listening to more rap albums the station got in.  So, thank you MC Lars, for allowing me to enjoy rap more as I get older.  It might be backwards, but I’m not complaining.

Three of Clubs

Tony Biehn took a deep breath and sighed.  He slowly unwrapped the plastic wrap from the deck of cards, and then he counted eleven cards from the top.  The twelfth was the three of clubs, and he tossed it onto the foot of the bed.  He only got a room when his band played on weekends, but if the hotel wasn’t overbooked they let him have a weekday.  He reached over to the night stand and pulled the spare room key out of the small paper folder that all the room keys came in.  He stood up and flipped open his guitar case, which he had sat on the luggage stand of the room.  He pulled out a small roll of scotch tape, and two pieces of tape later, the room key was attached to the three of clubs.  He put the deck back together, and tossed the box into his guitar case.  He felt the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and he slid them out and flicked them at the balcony door. He closed the guitar case, and with a slight grunt picked the case up.  The luggage stand toppled as he walked quickly out of the room.

***

Tony felt the string snap as they finished yet another Journey song.  The smattering of people in the lounge applauded while Tony forced a smile and waved.  “Why do I always break a string on that one?” he shouted jokingly into the microphone.  Lance and Seth shook their heads as Tony knelt down to his guitar case for another string.

“Dude, we only have a few songs left.  Do you really need that string?”  Lance looked impatient and tired.  He wasn’t used to Wednesday night gigs.

“I do as a matter of fact.  Nice bass-lines tonight by the way” Tony snapped.  Lance rolled his eyes as he turned his back to the small crowd.

“Some of us have jobs in the morning Tony.  Why in Reno’s name did you agree to this show?”

“Groove Kitty called in sick, and I know you need the money for your credit card bills.  Seth needs it to buy pot, and our little band is one of my main sources of income.”

“Skynyrd!” somebody yelled from the lounge.

“B.T.O.” another voice shouted.

“Slow down y’all!  We have a few songs left, and suggestions are always welcome with the three of clubs!”  Seth had walked out from behind his drum kit, and he was working the room like a trained pro as he pointed and made chit chat while Tony replaced his broken string.

“Why does he use that bad Southern accent?  He’s from Carson City” Lance muttered.

“It gets him some play, and the folks seem to like it.”  Tony picked at the new string, and it sounded good enough for the last few songs of the night’s last set.

“Skid Row!”

Tony heard the shout over all the other calls of the night.  He shoved Seth aside and was soon back at his microphone.  “Did I hear a request for Skid Row?  Who yelled that?”  Tony looked out and saw a woman waving her arms.  She looked almost forty but dressed almost twenty.  Her tight dress wasn’t flattering everywhere, but it accentuated everywhere it needed to.  Her makeup was mostly intact, and she had a few girlfriends with her, and they were all drinking straight whiskey.  “Any particular Skid Row song?”

“Play ‘I Remember You’!  Please!”  Tony’s eyes grew wide as he turned to his rhythm section, which was also the rest of the band.

“Do you two remember that one?”  Seth had a blank stare while Lance smiled and plucked a few notes.

“I don’t know the exact bass-line, but I can fake it.”  Lance replied

“I’ll catch on.  I always do.  I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually” Seth said, with no hint of an accent.

“All right then.  By request to the lovely lady in the back, and her party…some vintage Skid Row.”  Tony suddenly realized he didn’t have an acoustic guitar with him, so he had to play it slowly with the electric until the song kicked in.  After the song, the crowd had thinned a bit, but the lady and her friends were swooning on the dance floor.  They had been joined by a few guys, and a couple that had obviously made some Vegas vows.  Tony looked at the clock and knew they only had one song to go for the night, and he didn’t even need to give Seth a signal.  Four minutes later, Tony played the last chord of the night on an improvised ending to “Gimmie All  Your Lovin” by ZZ Top.  The remaining revelers were cheering, and Tony reached for the deck of cards.  He tossed the box aside and squeezed the deck in his fingers.  “Thank you for coming out to the Jackpot Casino here in beatiful Las Vegas.  We are the Three of Clubs, and the lucky lady who finds the three of clubs can claim her prize in room 351!”  Tony squeezed the cards, and they flew into the crowd as Lance and Seth took their bows.

***

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette as he stood on his hotel balcony.  It was five past midnight, and over an hour since his band had wrapped up their show on the floor.  He took a deep breath of the hot Vegas air as he looked over at his night stand.  The bottle of Nytol and warm glass of beer were calling to him, so he flicked the cigarette off the balcony.  As he took a step forward, he heard the door lock unlock with a loud click.  Tony watched as the woman who had requested Skid Row stumbled in.  She was missing a shoe, and she had gotten ahold of a bottle of Crown Royal.  She smiled as she held up the three of clubs while the door closed behind her.  “I’m here for my prize” she said in a sexy but slurred voice.

“Well now, just what do you think that prize might be?”  Tony was walking towards her, and she stumbled right into him.

“One guitarist over easy” she replied as she held herself up by gripping his t-shirt.

***

Tony opened his eyes slowly.  The night was a blur of sex, alcohol and more sex.  His head was pounding as he looked at the nightstand.  His wallet was in the exact same place, so he was already counting his blessings.  The room felt hotter than normal, and there was a breeze blowing in.

“I hope you don’t mind.  I didn’t bring any cigarettes” came a woman’s voice, now much less slurred, and only partially less sexy.  Tony sat up, and saw the woman leaning against the door frame of the balcony.  She was wearing a pink thong and Tony’s Motley Crue shirt.

“I didn’t know you smoked” Tony mumbled.  His brain was still foggy and the morning sun, while not shining in his face, was bright enough to make his head start pounding.

“I quit a long time ago Tony.  I quit a lot of things a long time ago.”  Tony squinted his eyes as he looked over the woman in his shirt.  His mind started piecing together her voice and the parts of her body that still looked and felt oddly familiar.

“Meghan?  Meghan Snider?  No…fuckin…way…” Tony stammered as he looked her over again.

“I haven’t been Megan Snider in years.  Meghan Nelson now.”  She took another long drag as she stared out onto the strip.  Tony threw the sheet off, and looked around the room for his underwear.  He pulled them from a nearby lampshade and put them on as Megan extracted a cigarette from the pack.  She held it out as Tony stumbled towards the balcony.  “You should have gotten a smoking room.”

“Hey, when the hotel pays, I take what they give.”  Tony put the cigarette in his mouth, but then he pulled it back out.  “How did you end up in Vegas?”

“An old friend decided to get married here last night, so me and some friends flew in to make sure she was doing the right thing?”

“Did she?”

“Well, she didn’t the first three times” Megan said as she tossed her cigarette off the balcony.  She pulled another cigarette out of the pack, and she tossed them at the bed as she pulled Tony’s lighter out of the side of her thong’s waistband.  “Hopefully she gets it right this time” Megan said as she lit her second smoke.  She handed the lighter to Tony as she blew smoke in his face.  “How long have you been in Vegas?”

“Too long” Tony said as he looked out onto the strip.  “I came out here maybe seven or eight years ago from Los Angeles after Hard Core fell apart.”  Tony put the cigarette in his mouth and looked away from Megan.  “Some dream huh?”

“What happened to Hard Core?  You guys sounded so good back in the day?”

“Seattle happened.  We made it to L.A. just in time for the bottom to fall out of the blues rock market.  Our CD came out and was promptly forgotten.  I think the last I heard we’d sold maybe 2,000 copies before the label dropped us.”  Tony looked back at Megan, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him.  “What about your dreams?  Did you get your degree in microbiology?”

“Nope.  Change of plans.  Her name is Rochelle, and she drives me nuts.  Teenagers…” Megan took an extra long drag as Tony tried not to let his jaw drop.

“You…have a teenage daughter?”

“I found a new guy at college.  Late freshman year.  We kept her and got married.  He’s a lawyer in Des Moines now.  We have two other kids…” Megan’s voice trailed off as she took another drag.  She looked down at the concrete floor of the balcony.  “His mom is watching them this weekend.  He’s in Washington D.C. for some conference or something.”

“Does he know you’re in Vegas?”

“I’m sure he does.  Not sure if he cares anymore.”  Megan took another long drag as Tony just stood there, alternating his glance from Megan to the street below.  “You’re wasting it.”

“Oh uh…” Tony took a quick half-hearted drag and lowered his hand.  “I should quit anyway.  I don’t have the disposable income to smoke.”

“How did you go from writing songs to playing in a cover band?”

“Well, after the label dropped us…we tried to make a go as a touring band, but one by one the guys just lost their way.  Drugs and alcohol took them out of the game, and after a while I just got sick of auditioning for other bands and living off tips as a bartender.  I moved here eight years ago to just start over.  I couldn’t find a job I liked, and before I knew it I was part of a few local cover bands that the casinos hire for live entertainment.  I formed the Three of Clubs about four years ago.  The money is decent, and I have flexible hours at the record store I work at downtown.”

“Sounds like a fun life” Megan said.

“Fun?  I have a studio apartment over the record store that leaks when it rains.  I barely make ends meet and my only friends are my band-mates, and they’re barely friends.  You have the stable life, nice house and it sounds like you still live in Iowa.”

Megan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I live in a boring, gated community.  I work part time at an upscale clothing store just to avoid being bored to death.  My husband…” Megan opened her eyes and looked into Tony’s eyes.  “…who hasn’t had sex with me in eight years by the way, doesn’t want me to go back to school to finish my degree.  I’m nothing but his smiling, P.T.A. trophy wife who eats too many cheeseburgers and sneaks a smoke once every few months.  I was hoping to forget Iowa and everything for just one night, and somehow I find you.”

“Sorry” Tony said as he lifted his cigarette to his mouth.  It was almost gone, and the cherry had gone dark.

“Don’t be” Megan said as Tony tossed the butt off the balcony.  “It reminded me of the good times we had back in our sleepy old Iowa town.  Truth is, I didn’t know it was you until halfway through the night.”

“How did you figure it out?” Tony asked.  He was starting to notice his headache again.

“There are certain…things….only you…” Megan smiled as her face turned bright red.  “Let’s just say I figured it out.”

“When do you fly out?”  Tony asked.

“Today.  I have to be at the airport in two hours.”  She walked back into the room and started pulling Tony’s t-shirt off.

“You can keep the shirt if you want” Tony said, just before she threw it at him.

“Thanks but no” Megan said.  “You always could pull off the black t-shirt look.  I never could.”

“So…uh…what about last night?”

“Last night was fun, but any more and…I don’t know.”  Megan slid her dress on and found the one shoe she had brought along.  “We had our chance back then.  We talked about eloping on graduation night.  Do you remember that?”

“I do” Tony said as he pulled his shirt back on.  The black cloth passed over his face and when his eyes saw the room again, Megan was already at the door.

“I really wish we had.”

“Me too” Tony said as he looked away from Megan, and at his guitar.

“See ya” Megan said, forcing a smile as she looked over her shoulder.

“Take care” Tony said.  Megan walked into the hallway, and the door closed behind her.  Tony’s back hit the wall of the hotel room, and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor.  His arms wrapped around his knees.  He didn’t even notice his headache, as his heartache dominated his mind.

Nine of Clubs

“Okay, run this by me again?  How does this work?”  Ross held the deck of cards in his hand.  Kris was guzzling down his Mountain Dew, and Ross’ question would just have to wait until he was done.  Bryan was reading a comic book, only half paying attention to what was transpiring on the floor of Ross’ dorm room.

“Simple” Kris said as he tossed the plastic bottle towards the tin garbage can.  As the bottle bounced off the rim and rolled under Ross’ bed, Kris took the cards away and started shuffling.  “You shuffle six times, while you try to focus on any spirit that might be in the room.  Then, you deal the cards out like this.”  Kris flipped over the first four cards, resulting in two hearts and two spades.  “Well, that didn’t work.  It has to be one of each suit to work.  If you get one of each suit, you’ve contacted a spirit.”

“Then I can ask questions?”

Bryan shook his head as Kris started shuffling again.  “Yep.  You ask questions, and then you flip up a card.  The position matches one of four answers.  The top card is yes, the bottom card is no, the left card is maybe, and the right card is I don’t know.”  Kris threw out three clubs and a spade.  “No luck for me.  Why don’t you try?”

“Y’know Kris, I can’t help but think you picked this up from  your new girlfriend.  She’s a Wiccan right?”  Bryan slid the comic back into the bag and sat it on the plastic bag holding several other comics.

“I knew about this before Tina.  We used to do it in High School.”

“Okay…I’ll try it.”  Ross said as shuffled the cards.  He tried to focus as the cards slid together in his hands.  He calmly flipped over the top four cards, and the four suits were staring back at him.  Clubs were on top, with diamonds on the bottom.  Hearts took the left side, while spades were on the right.

“That’s good.  You’ve made contact with a spirit.  Ask it a question.”  Bryan could tell Kris had mischief on his mind.  Ross could be gullible, and Bryan knew it.  Rather than get involved, Bryan turned another page of Marvel Team-up.

“Is a spirit really here?” Ross asked.  He flipped over the six of clubs.  “Are you lying?” Ross asked as he flipped up the next card.  The five of diamonds indicated a no.  Bryan calmly kept reading his comics as the two of them took turns asking spirits if they were really there, or if they were good or evil. He was almost through his week’s comics, and that meant he’d actually only have homework to read.

“Don’t you want to try it?” Kris said.

“Nah” Byran said.  “You two go nuts.”  A few comics later, Bryan was down to his last comic.  As he started reading Teen Titans, he heard the cards shuffle and Ross lead with the usual questions about whether it was really a spirit and all the rest.  He was in the middle of the comic when he heard a question that he wasn’t expecting.

“Is this my dad?”

“Uh…Ross?  I don’t think you should ask that.”  Bryan was sitting up in Ross’ beanbag chair, and even Kris looked a bit puzzled and concerned about this new question.

“Yeah…that’s…” Kris never finished his question as Ross flipped up the next card.  It was the nine of clubs.

“Okay Ross…just stop.” Byran had dropped his comic on the carpet.  The cover was getting a slight crease, and Bryan seemed to not notice or care.  Kris was waving his hands around and shaking his head.

“Dude, it might be trying to trick you.  Ask it if it’s lying.”

“Are you lying?” Ross asked.  The king of spades flipped up, and was dropped into the no pile.  Kris looked at Bryan, and Bryan shook his head.  They were all from different states, and had just gotten to know each other at college.  They knew Ross lost his father at a young age, and that he didn’t like to talk about it.  Bryan and Kris then looked at the piles of cards on the floor.  The I don’t know pile looked full, and the yes, no, and maybe piles were all about even.  Ross didn’t have many cards left.

“Maybe…maybe…” Bryan cut Kris off before he dug a deeper hole.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?”  Bryan asked.  Ross’ face looked the same as it had all night.

“Sure.  It’s just cards.”  Ross closed his eyes and placed thumb and index finger on the top card.  “Did I turn out like you thought I would?”  The spade went to the  no pile, and Ross’ hand went back to the cards in his left hand.  “But are you proud of me?”  The ace of clubs flipped over, and Ross tossed it onto the yes pile.  The card slid across the nine of clubs and rested just north of the diamond of card stacks.  “Did you want to go?” Ross asked.  Kris and Bryan bit their lips as he flipped over the two of spades.  Ross dropped it right by the pile of spaces in front of his crossed legs.  “Will I see you again?” was answered with a diamond that was quickly tossed into the maybe pile.  “Do you miss me as much as I miss you?” was Ross’ final question, and Bryan and Kris braced for an answer that would be inappropriate.  The jack of clubs turned out to be the last card, and that card was gently dropped into the yes pile, or relatively close.  Ross calmly stood up, while Kris quickly got up.

“I, uh, gotta call a girl.  I’ll be back later.”  Kris was up and out the door before Bryan finally managed to get up out the beanbag chair.  Ross was standing at the window of the room, which faced out towards a small parking lot and the football practice field.  Bryan gathered up his comics and other books and tried to think of something to say.

“Uh…are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah…I’ll be fine.  I’d like some time alone though.”  Ross didn’t turn around when he spoke.  He just kept staring outside at nothing in particular.

“Oh-kay then.  You know where to find me.”  Bryan carefully stepped over the four stacks of cards as he walked out the door.  He lingered on the other side of the closed door for a moment, but he didn’t hear anything.  While he walked down the hall back to his dorm room, Ross kept staring out the window.  After several minutes, he calmly turned around and started bunching up the cards on the floor.  He looked for the box they went in, and he found it under his bed along with Kris’ pop bottle.  He tossed the bottle in the garbage, and then he slid the deck back into the box.  Ross looked at the clear box, and he noticed the nine of clubs had somehow wound up as the top card that was face up in the box.  He lightly tossed the deck onto his desk, and then he let out a deep sigh.  He let himself fall onto his unmade bed, choosing to stare at the ceiling rather than through his window.  He put his hands behind his head, and let his mind wander to places long forgotten, and feelings long submerged.

Four of Clubs

The distant future

Major Andrews watched the shuttle slowly float next to the station.  The green and yellow light of the planet below illuminated the scorch marks on the shuttle, and Major Andrews didn’t expect to see those.  The lights above the airlock door slowly went from red to green, and the doors slid open.  A soldier walked out of the airlock and then looked back.  “All clear” the soldier said.

“Is this really necessary?” Andrews asked.

“It is.  The pirate activity is a bit off the chart right now.  I didn’t catch the name of my pilot but he needs a raise.”  Andrews looked over the man who had spoken.  He was wearing a business suit that looked like it was out of the mid-21st century, with the only modern accent being an energy pistol that was clearly visible.  “David Carson, reporting for duty.  How may I serve United Earth today?”

“Walk with me, and I’ll give you the update Mr. Carson.  Might I say, your reputation is well known out here.  We asked for the best negotiator and diplomat they had, so I’m glad they sent you.”  Carson picked up his briefcase and began following Major Andrews.

“I appreciate it, but I’m one screw up away from a desk job at the Saturn Orbital Colony.”  Carson had now caught up, and was matching Andrews step for step.

“I’d heard you were from Saturn’s Colony.  What’s it like, growing up on a space station?” Andrews was still looking him over.  Deep down, he had his doubts about the young diplomat.

“I burn easy when I go to the beach.  Now, tell me about the Kryz’gola.”

“They won’t win any beauty contests.  This planet is one they claim, but they have no colonies or settlements.  We put this station here because it’s a great staging area to fight the growing problem the pirates are presenting in this sector.  Plus there are some really weird readings we’re getting from the atmosphere.”

“Colonization prospects?”

“None.  The atmosphere’s toxic, even to them.  Plus the gravitational pull is three times that of earth, so we have to structurally re-enforce every probe we send.”

“The Kryz’gola.  Language barriers?”

“None.  They have limited telepathy, so their negotiator has already mastered every Earth dialect, and he’s well versed in our history.  He’s waiting now, but I told him you might not want to m-”

“Take me to him” Carson said.

***

David Carson walked into the negotiation room.  The temperature dropped twenty degrees, and the air was thick a smell that reminded David of a visit to a fish market in Seattle.  The Kryz’golan was sitting on the other side of an old wooden table.  His skin was green and almost translucent, and his head was covered in small tentacles.  His three eyes were red, blue and yellow, and his mouth was thankfully closed.  Instead of arms there were more tentacles on his sides, and four long ones were neatly placed around the legs of his chair.  “You must be David Carson” he heard in his head.  “I’ve been told our breath carries fumes toxic to your species, so I will communicate with my telepathy.”

“That’s fine.  Do you mind if I speak out loud?” Carson said.

“Not at all.  You humans seem to enjoy talking, among other things.”

“Major Andrews told me your people had limited telepathy.”

“Well, every time I met with him, there were others.  It’s harder to focus on a group.  Since there’s just one of you, it makes things much easier.”

That would have been nice to know.

“Yes, that would have been nice for you to know.  Also, this will be harder than you thought.”

“Yes…well…let’s discuss the planet.  Our people only want to operate a space station here.  My government has given me clearance to offer to move this station to one of the planet’s moons.”

“That will be unacceptable.  Your people must leave this system.”

“May I ask what significance this planet holds for your people?  If we have interfered with any kind of religious or-”

“This planet is of no use to us, but we do not wish to be neighbors of such a limited and violent race.”

“Major Andrews told me you read up on us.”

“I have.  Your species only achieved peace on your own planet less than a millennium ago.  Your space fleet still has ships and fighter groups made up of a certain region’s people, by the choice of those serving on those ships.  Look at your staff here.  Major Andrews has a patch on his sleeve of a British flag.  The soldiers who came with you had patches of the United States, Saudi Arabia, Russia and Brazil.  You claim your planet is united but your species clings to their old territorial homes.”

“Not all of us wear those patches.  We haven’t been at war on Earth for hundreds of years.”

“This pirate problem…what is the race those pirates are primarily made up of?”

“Humans.  Humans who  have chosen to embrace our darker nature.  If there’s one thing humans do better than that, it’s overcome long odds.”

“Like negotiating with a telepath?  You can’t surprise me or use your diplomatic double speak on me.”

“If I could surprise you, and show how we like to overcome long odds, would you agree to negotiation?”

The Kryz’golan’s head tentacles waved about wildly. “I’ll give you once chance, but I won’t stop using my telepathy.”

“That’s fine.  I don’t want you to stop.”  David popped open his briefcase and pulled out a rectangular box.  He  opened the box. and dropped a deck of cards on the table.  “Do you know what these are?”

“You humans call them cards.  Are you going to challenge me to a game?”

“Nope.”  David straightened up the deck, and then spread the purple backed deck across the table.  “I want you to pick a card.  Any one card, but don’t tell me what it is.”

“Very well.”  The Kryz’golan carefully stretched out a tentacle, and slid one of the purple cards out.  Another tentacle helped the Kryz’golan hold the card up as the alien looked it over.  “Now what?”

“Put it back in the deck.  Anywhere.”  The Kryz’golan placed the card face down, and slid the card back into the the deck.  David bunched up the cards and began shuffling.  The Kryz’golan tried to read  his mind, but all he saw were purple card backs with a drawing of Saturn on them.  The tentacles on his head went crazy as he focused even harder.  All he could get from David’s mind was the back of the cards.

“This is pointless.  You have no idea.  You’re stalling.”

“If you’re a telepath you know that’s not true.”  David slammed the cards on the table, and shook his head.  “Very well.  I’ll tell the Major to begin disassembling the base and to move out of this system.”  He took the cards and put them back in their box, and then tossed them into his briefcase.  As he was closing his briefcase, the Kryz’golan looked at the table.

“You forgot one card.”

“No I didn’t.  That one is yours.”  David watched the Kryz’golan’s tentacle whip out and flip the card over.  The four of clubs was now face up.

“Perhaps I’ve misjudged you and your people.  Tell me, how did you shield your mind and find my card?”

“That knowledge is up for negotiation” David said with a smile.  The tentacles on the Kryz’golan’s head slowed down, and the body of the Kryz’golan undulated.

“Indeed!  I think we can find some common ground after all.  Sit.  Let us discuss your space station…”

Ace of Clubs

[I'm using the aces to talk about each of our cats, but I had no idea I'd be doing two in a row.  I don't think it's my best work, but I have to play them how they're dealt.]

“I’ll be home soon with my cat.”

Now, this may not have been what Kate said that day, but it was essentially what the meaning was.  Weevil had evolved into my cat, and Logan was meant to be Kate’s cat.  Weevil and Logan had other plans, and both of them gravitated to me.  Kate was wanting her own cat, and she thought it would work fine (speaking as someone who grew up in a three cat household).  So, she went to the farm of a friend’s friend and picked out a small kitten, just ready to leave the litter and make her way in the world.  I was sitting on the couch when Kate arrived, and she brought the small cat into the living room.  The small, black kitten was hugging her chest tightly, and until I held her I didn’t see her white underside.  I was hoping for an all black cat to name Ravage, but instead we stuck with the Veronica Mars theme and name her Mac, after Veronica’s computer expert pal.  Logan came up to Mac and sniffed her a few times.  It was his first time around a female cat, and it made him a bit nervous.  By a bit nervous, I mean he urinated all over my leg.  Kate spent the rest of the night apologizing, I spent the night laughing, and Weevil spent the night hiding.

Mac got into a few scrapes with Logan and Weevil over the next few months, but soon she was getting along with them well enough to eat and drink beside them.  She grew a bit, but not as much as Logan had.  Logan had gone from runt to as big as Weevil, but Mac remained quite petite.  She was very kitten-like to the point of almost being wild.  She loved sharpening her claws and chasing cat toys.  At least, she did for the first few months.  One day she started meowing long and deep, and before too long Logan knew what he was supposed to do.  We tried to discourage it to some extent, but we knew the risks of two cats that weren’t fixed.  After about five days, Mac stopped meowing, and she was sleeping a ton. We had a pretty good hunch that she was pregnant.  Kate grew up on a farm, so litters of kittens were no big thing.  I’d never been through it before, so I was actually rather excited for the idea of having some kittens around. We weren’t ready for exactly what Mac had in mind.

Kate called to tell me the birthing had begun, and by the time it was done our little Mac, who may be one of the smallest fully grown cats I’ve seen, pushed six kittens out.  Kate was guessing four at the most, and I thought three would be pushing it.  Mac had been so wild and aggressive before they were born, we had our doubts that she would work as a mother.  Mac not only rose to the challenge, she often went above and beyond the call of duty with her kittens.  Her nipples were sore and swollen, but she never pushed one of her kittens away.  The wild child of our cat family had tamed overnight.  Her purr is what sticks with me from those early days.  I have never heard her purr louder or longer than when she was nursing her litter.  She embraced her motherhood fully, and those kittens were some of the luckiest cats around.  Kate was pretty sure one or two wouldn’t make it, because that’s how litters on the farm went.  Mac made sure all the kittens got their share, especially the runt of the litter.  In a few months all six were starting to wander all around the bedroom, and soon we had to construct what I called the “kitty pen” to contain them.

Logan’s role as the kitten’s father was unusual.  I’m sure you’ve heard stories of tomcats eating kittens, but Logan never tried.  In fact, he sat about a yard away from Mac during her labor with a concerned look on his face.  We didn’t want to take the chance that Logan would do something with them, so we didn’t let him interact with the kittens much.  There were a few nights where we let them roam free, and Logan actually played with them.  We didn’t want more kittens, as we were still lining up homes for the kittens we had.  The decision was made to get Logan fixed, and that led to a whole other side of Mac.

Logan was pretty doped up after his surgery, and we kept him away from all the other cats.  I’m not sure why cats forget each other so quickly, but when he finally emerged from his groggy state Mac didn’t want him anywhere near the kitty pen.  Logan, while not a smart cat, understood and kept his distance.  I was coming into the house and saw Logan walking towards the kitty pen, and Mac absolutely freaked out.  She snarled so hard she was snorting, and her body hugged the ground.  Her fur shot out in all directions, and she started slashing with her left front paw.  Logan was confused and scared, and he took a jump away from her.  Unfortunately for him, he jumped right into the kitty pen.  Mac chased him out, and he hid for a few hours in the basement.  Mac remained a great mom to the kittens, but once we started finding them homes she became cold and mean towards Weevil and Logan.  Once all of her kittens had found homes, she remained cold towards the other cats, and she grew cold towards Kate and I.  I thought it was because she missed her litter, and she did spend time in some of the spots we had them, almost as if she was looking for them.  The one kitten we kept, Eileen, was lumped in with Weevil and Logan.  Months passed, and she was becoming meaner and meaner towards everyone.  She even hissed and batted at her own daughter.  She never wanted to play, and she had no desire for any kind of interaction.  I kept hoping she’d come out of it, but finally Kate convinced me that we should get her fixed.  I didn’t think it would help, and with both males in the house fixed, it didn’t seem necessary.

Mac spent two nights at the vet, and when she came home she kept to herself for about a week.  Finally, one night as we tried to sleep, we heard meowing from under the bed.  It was Mac and her daughter Eileen, and they were meowing back and forth like they were having a really deep conversation.  It was almost like Mac had shed all of her negative qualities at once, and she was back to the playful, energetic Mac we’d fallen in love with when she first came into our home.  I chose the ace of clubs to represent her, for a few reasons.  Clubs can be seen as a clover, and Mac is probably the girliest of the cats.  A club is also a weapon, and I’ve seen Mac fight the other cats enough to know she’s not to be messed with.  Then, there’s the simple reason that she’s mostly black with some white, and the ace of clubs is a perfect contrast.  Or, it’s because the other cats fit the other aces so well that the ace of clubs is all that’s left.  Maybe the best way to put it is this: clubs is a complex suit, and Mac is a complex cat.

Jack of Clubs

“I don’t know if a dance club is really my scene” Meghan said.  The alleyway was dark, and her jeans were feeling a lot tighter than usual.  Why didn’t I wear something with a bit more room?  Why am I here?  I wish I could just go home and…

“C’mon.  It will be a lot of fun.  You only come to visit us out here once in a great while.”  Sally’s hair remained perfect, even with the drizzle falling all around them.  Her blond hair briefly brushed her face as she tugged Meghan’s arm along the pavement.

“Yeah.  This place is always fun.  Plus, tonight they have a special DJ spinning tracks.”  Marcus was dressed up a lot nicer than Meghan was used to.  Sally had told her about her boyfriend back home in Boston before, but seeing him in person didn’t really do much for.  At least, it hadn’t.  Tonight was changing her mind.

“There’s the place.  Watch the stairs.  They can be tricky in heels” Sally said.  Sally didn’t seem to be having any trouble, but heels weren’t something Meghan wore very often.  The door had a ratty red awning, and a neon sign flickered in the drizzle.  As the words ‘the Sweet Spot’ flickered in Meghan’s glasses, she noticed the posters haphazardly hung up outside the club.

TONIGHT ONLY: GUEST DJ “THE JACK OF CLUBS”

***

“What is your deal?”  Sally had a drink in her hand, and it was by no means her first.  The club wasn’t totally packed, but it was a busier place than Meghan preferred to be in.

“I don’t do the club thing usually.  I’m a bit out of my element.”  Meghan started going over the reasons in her head that she could give Sally for keeping her precious wall space, that had a nice ledge for balancing a drink on.

“Hey, we won’t stay too long.  Just try to enjoy yourself.”  Meghan’s head tilted slightly as her brain was off balance after hearing Sally’s casual indifference to Meghan not wanting to be anything more than a wallflower.  Some of Sally’s other Boston friends were talking around her, and occasionally one would ask her what she thought of Boston, and what living in North Dakota was like.  The music was nothing special, and Meghan started thinking about the book she had brought along to read during her down times, and how much she’d rather be reading it.  The music came to an abrupt stop, and a low, pulsating bass beat took its place.  After a few seconds, a voice that sounded like it belonged selling cars more than announcing at a dance club made an announcement.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and ladies again…I give you tonight’s guest DJ…the JACK OF CLUBS!” Meghan looked to the stage area, where a table had been set up with some turntables, a mic, and a shoddy looking mixing board.  A man walked up to the table and bent forward into the microphone.

“Is the Sweet Spot ready to move, groove and get rude?”  he asked the crowd.  His delivery was odd in a way Meghan couldn’t comprehend, but it wasn’t what she was expecting to hear.  Before the crowd had finished shouting their approval, the bass beat shifted and the sound of an air raid siren (or something like it) started kicking in, and then the dance floor began crowding up.  Sally was off in a flash, as were most of her friends.  Meghan found herself tapping her foot along to the beat, which had nothing in common with a lot of the singer/songwriter music she frequently listened to.  The DJ kept his focus on his job, but when he took his eyes off the equipment for the first time, his eyes met Meghan’s.  He smiled, and she found herself smiling right back.

***

“Where’s Meghan?”  Sally wasn’t drunk yet, but she was teetering on the precipice.  The drink in her hand was more than enough to push her over into hangover canyon tomorrow.

“I lost her” Marcus said.  He was yelling as loud as he could, but he was still having to repeat most of what he was saying before Sally could hear it.

“Well find her!  This isn’t fucking Minot!  We don’t want her to…” Sally’s words trailed off for a moment, as Marcus got even closer to hear her over the music.  “Is that her over there?”  Sally said, pointing more towards the stage area.  Marcus looked over in that direction, and he didn’t see her on the dance floor.  Sally’s hand lifted his jaw upward, tilting his head above floor level.  There was a woman who had climbed onto a ledge that surrounded a support pillar who was dancing feverishly.  She wasn’t a great dancer by any means, but she was attracting quite a crowd of admirers and cat-callers.  Her hips swayed to the beat, and her hair flung around her face as she continued to move her body as rhythmically as she could.  A stage light caught her glasses and Marcus’ head tilted even further back, as Sally’s hand kept his jaw from dropping.

“Meghan?” Marcus asked Sally, who shrugged and downed her next drink without even a hint of worry.

***

Meghan was breathing heavy at the bar.  She had never danced at a club before, much less standing on a thin ledge.  Her feet were sore, her legs ached, and her hair was a mess of sweat, alcohol and bits of the makeup Sally had applied to her earlier.  She was sipping a pink squirrel when she felt the barflies shift around her.  “Diet soda” a familiar voice said.  Meghan looked over and she saw the DJ standing next to her.  He looked over at her, and he smiled slightly.  “Hey, you’re the girl who danced on the table or whatever.”

“Pillar, but yeah” Meghan said, quickly looking at her drink and then back at the DJ.  “What’s your name, really.”

“Jack” he said in a monotone voice.  “My name is Jack.  I just happen to be a club DJ.  Some club owner coined the name, and it stuck.  I’m getting out of the business though.”

“Oh why…you’re so good at it.”  Meghan saw her hand on his shoulder, but she felt relieved when he saw it and smiled a bit wider.

“Thanks for coming out to the set tonight.  I’m glad I could help you come out of your shell a bit.  Take care…”  Jack walked away with a smile.  Meghan tried to keep an eye on him as he disappeared into the crowd, but he was swallowed up by the night’s revelers.

“There you are!”  Sally said as she elbowed her way through the crowd.  “C’mon, we should get going, and get you out of here before you hop on another table” Sally was smiling as she led Meghan towards the exit.  Marcus was laughing as Meghan pleaded her case.

“It was a pillar, not a table…”

***

Sally slammed the car door with some authority.  “I had a great time, didn’t you Marcus?”

“Not as good as Meghan” he said as he fumbled for his keys.

“I did have a nice time.  Thanks you two”  Meghan said as she reached for her backpack, which had a welcome change of shoes waiting for her.

“Don’t mention it.  Better yet, chip in a bit for parking.”  Sally and Marcus started laughing again, and Meghan joined them.  Sally and Marcus were still laughing when they noticed that Meghan had stopped.  “Meghan?”  Sally asked, still laughing somewhat.

“Did you guys lock the car?”  Meghan said.  Her voice was quiet and her face was even more pale than usual.  Her backpack was in her lap, and partially zipped open.

“Sure.  The stereo’s here, my CDs are here…even my Oakleys are here.  Did somebody steal something out of your purse?”  Marcus had turned around to face Meghan, just as Sally had.

“Not exactly” Meghan said.  She reached into her backpack and pulled out a tattered and worn playing card.  She turned it around for Marcus and Sally, who saw the scuffed up jack of clubs.

“Okay, that’s really fucking weird” Sally said, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.