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

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.