Chapter One and Three Quarters: The Bet (continued)
Charles watched as Jake took a quick sip of his lager and then clutched the cards lightly and dealt. Charles marvelled at the dexterity with which the attorney flicked the cards so precisely into tight little piles in front of each player. Charles shot him a suspicious look. He had played enough with Jake to know everything was not as it seemed.
Oblivious to Charles' suspicions, everyone anted. Charles glanced down at his cards to see a King face up. Unless an Ace was on the table he would be first to bet. He peeked at his two down cards to reveal an Ace and a Five. He would definitely raise the bet if he was first to act, but before he could even assess the table, he noticed that Jake had taken off his hat and leaned back in his chair. The attorney scratched the stubble on his chin and again reached for his beer.
"Chuck, I've been thinking about the horse," he said with an air of inquisition.
"The horse?" Chuck responded carefully.
"You know! Miguel's chestnut mare."
Miguel's interest piqued at the mention of his horse.
"Yeah?" replied Charles. He remembered a discussion he'd had with Jake about Miguel's horse a few weeks before, but Jake was pretty soused at the time and Charles doubted he could remember it. "I remember you said you didn't think it was twice as fast as you."
"Oh, it's twice as fast as him," added Miguel pointing at Jake.
"Well, I've been thinking," continued Jake, trying to ignore Miguel's interruption. "What if it wasn't me?"
Intrigued but unconvinced, Charles leaned forward in his chair. "Go on," he urged.
"Well, I realize a horse can cover a mile in under two minutes, give or take a few seconds, and even an Olympic athlete would be hard pressed to run it in under five, so that's not a fair comparison, but suppose we handicapped the whole thing." Jake's eyes blazed under the hot lights in the lounge as he got more and more animated. "Suppose we make it a bit fairer."
Charles looked down at the wounded giant snoring beneath him. "You mean we make the horse carry Cus."
The table laughed again at the thought of Cus atop a horse.
"Listen, Jake," Charles said indignantly, "I don't care who you put on Miguel's horse and I really don't care if Hercules himself was the runner. A horse is still easily twice as fast as any human."
"Easily twice as fast," echoed Miguel.
Jake again scratched his stubble like a drunken philosopher. "So, even with Cus on Miguel's horse, you'd still bet on the horse?"
Charles bit his bottom lip trying not to throw his money at the fool in front of him, but still he sensed something was slightly amiss. "How far would they go?" He didn't think it would matter one way or another but he wanted to tie down all the loose ends.
"The horse with Cus on top goes ten miles and the runner goes five."
Vera pulled the unlit cigarette out of her mouth and objected. "Charles, there ain't a single horse this side of Oklahoma City that can haul Cus ten miles."
Charles thought about it for a few moments. "How 'bout ten and five, but we put Cole on the mare?"
At the mention of his name, Cole did finally manage to extricate himself from the clinging hands of Sally Forester, but the alcohol still held him firmly in its grip. "I don't ride, Chuck. You know that. I mean I can ride, I just don't do it. You know what I mean, I don't ride good no more. That's what I meant to say."
Jake listened carefully to Cole's slurred logic. He wasn't even close to Cus' weight and girth, but he wasn't small by any means either. For a coal miner, he was downright enormous. Jake had him pegged at just over 230 pounds. The weight would be a factor, but Jake seemed more interested in Cole's lack of horsemanship.
"Cole," Jake said, staring the miner down, "How long has it been since you rode a horse?"
Cole couldn't be counted on to remember a detail like that in his current state but his estimate of three years was enough to convince Jake.
"Charles, my friend, you have a deal, but I get to pick the runner," Jake offered confidently.
"Jake, you don't even know anyone down in Pagosa. How you going to drag some kid over here from Durango?"
"Fine, then. You pick the runner but I get to see him first."
"How much?"
"The usual?"
"Five hundred bucks it is. Now let's get this show on the road, before the antes get all cold."
* * * *
Oblivious to Charles' suspicions, everyone anted. Charles glanced down at his cards to see a King face up. Unless an Ace was on the table he would be first to bet. He peeked at his two down cards to reveal an Ace and a Five. He would definitely raise the bet if he was first to act, but before he could even assess the table, he noticed that Jake had taken off his hat and leaned back in his chair. The attorney scratched the stubble on his chin and again reached for his beer.
"Chuck, I've been thinking about the horse," he said with an air of inquisition.
"The horse?" Chuck responded carefully.
"You know! Miguel's chestnut mare."
Miguel's interest piqued at the mention of his horse.
"Yeah?" replied Charles. He remembered a discussion he'd had with Jake about Miguel's horse a few weeks before, but Jake was pretty soused at the time and Charles doubted he could remember it. "I remember you said you didn't think it was twice as fast as you."
"Oh, it's twice as fast as him," added Miguel pointing at Jake.
"Well, I've been thinking," continued Jake, trying to ignore Miguel's interruption. "What if it wasn't me?"
Intrigued but unconvinced, Charles leaned forward in his chair. "Go on," he urged.
"Well, I realize a horse can cover a mile in under two minutes, give or take a few seconds, and even an Olympic athlete would be hard pressed to run it in under five, so that's not a fair comparison, but suppose we handicapped the whole thing." Jake's eyes blazed under the hot lights in the lounge as he got more and more animated. "Suppose we make it a bit fairer."
Charles looked down at the wounded giant snoring beneath him. "You mean we make the horse carry Cus."
The table laughed again at the thought of Cus atop a horse.
"Listen, Jake," Charles said indignantly, "I don't care who you put on Miguel's horse and I really don't care if Hercules himself was the runner. A horse is still easily twice as fast as any human."
"Easily twice as fast," echoed Miguel.
Jake again scratched his stubble like a drunken philosopher. "So, even with Cus on Miguel's horse, you'd still bet on the horse?"
Charles bit his bottom lip trying not to throw his money at the fool in front of him, but still he sensed something was slightly amiss. "How far would they go?" He didn't think it would matter one way or another but he wanted to tie down all the loose ends.
"The horse with Cus on top goes ten miles and the runner goes five."
Vera pulled the unlit cigarette out of her mouth and objected. "Charles, there ain't a single horse this side of Oklahoma City that can haul Cus ten miles."
Charles thought about it for a few moments. "How 'bout ten and five, but we put Cole on the mare?"
At the mention of his name, Cole did finally manage to extricate himself from the clinging hands of Sally Forester, but the alcohol still held him firmly in its grip. "I don't ride, Chuck. You know that. I mean I can ride, I just don't do it. You know what I mean, I don't ride good no more. That's what I meant to say."
Jake listened carefully to Cole's slurred logic. He wasn't even close to Cus' weight and girth, but he wasn't small by any means either. For a coal miner, he was downright enormous. Jake had him pegged at just over 230 pounds. The weight would be a factor, but Jake seemed more interested in Cole's lack of horsemanship.
"Cole," Jake said, staring the miner down, "How long has it been since you rode a horse?"
Cole couldn't be counted on to remember a detail like that in his current state but his estimate of three years was enough to convince Jake.
"Charles, my friend, you have a deal, but I get to pick the runner," Jake offered confidently.
"Jake, you don't even know anyone down in Pagosa. How you going to drag some kid over here from Durango?"
"Fine, then. You pick the runner but I get to see him first."
"How much?"
"The usual?"
"Five hundred bucks it is. Now let's get this show on the road, before the antes get all cold."
* * * *
posted by Cool Dad at 5:53 AM
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