The Writers' Circle

The Gamble
By
Gary Jarvis

Jack could feel his hands trembling and nausea over taking his body. He was moments away from either dismay or elation. His future all rested on pure chance; the thought did not rest easy with him, leaving something to chance was against his whole nature. He felt his legs turn to jelly, barely holding him upright, and his stomach churning with worry. He thought of the classic film line that summed up his situation perfectly. Do I feel lucky? Well do I? He didn't want to answer the question. He looked at the object and he wished with all his might that he could go back in time. Stop himself from listening to one small conversation. The conversation had been the tiny snowball at the top of the mountain starting his roll down until it became a giant ball of destruction. It had triggered the series of events that had spiraled his life into its current predicament. He could remember it vividly every last word.

He was sitting in his front garden playing the game with one of his elderly friends, the warm autumn sun beating down overhead hitting the table's parasol leaving him in the shade, when his next door neighbor popped his head over the well trimmed hedge separating their properties and interrupted the game. "Hey Jack. Didn't realise you were into that?" He then directed his comment to Jack's friend. "Wouldn't want to be you right now mate?" Then bounced his words back to Jack without letting either of the pair respond. "How much you playing for? Tell you what if you want an easy couple of wins then I know a place you can go. They cater for all levels. Just pop down to St Marie Avenue, house number four and ask for Mel. Right have to go, catch ya later." He finished, vanishing as quickly as he appeared leaving Jack and his friend alone once more.

"Time's up. Play." A gruff voice opposite Jack said firmly, banging his left fist on the table whilst his right was under it and placed over his right knee an object other than his knee hidden beneath his hand. Jack felt his body tighten and was sure he was paralyzed. He willed his body to move or even for himself to speak, but he could not. "I am getting tired of this. Turn it over and play." Jack responded this time his trembling hand moving towards the table. He managed to pick up the item its rectangular shape filling comfortable in his hand, putting him slightly at ease. He turned it over and his worry lessened slightly. He stared at it in disbelief, it simply couldn't have been a better start. An ace. Things are suddenly looking a whole lot brighter he thought to himself. The man sitting opposite saw the happiness in Jack's face and deftly turned over his first card. It was the ace of hearts and Jack's face fell. The situation reminded him of the first time he had played at number four. The thrill of decimating his opponents after a few rounds and taking their cash. He knew that the man opposite, Ricardo Manelli, had that feeling right now. He had taking Jack's winnings for the night plus more already but Jack played on chasing his loss panic clouding his decisions.

He was now on the gamble, his final gamble. If he won he would make more than double everything he owned in the world but if he lost then Ricardo would find out that Jack couldn't pay. Jack fought back the urge to be sick, the realisation that it was nearly over hitting him. He turned over the second card, six of diamonds, his hopes plummeted deeply seventeen or seven not a good place to be. Ricardo quickly flipped his card over, queen of clubs, revealing it to Jack. A sadistic smile appeared on Ricardo's face. Jack was in complete and utter turmoil he had no idea what to do. "Come on old timer. Pay up." Ricardo's voice bought Jack out of his turmoil and forced him into a decision.
"Not quite yet I may get a five card draw. Hit me." 
"Ok here." Ricardo laughed, almost throwing the next card from the pile at Jack. Jack turned it up pleading with any higher power that may be out there that it be a low card. The turning process felt like an eternity for him until it turned and it was the three of diamonds. Jack felt elated, he couldn't imagine anything being so mentally or emotionally jarring. Ricardo thrust the fourth card in front of Jack. Jack prayed again hoping that it would again be low, promising to whoever could hear his thoughts that he would never gamble again if he escaped this. The card turned under Jack's shaking hand and flopped onto the table, as he dropped it by accident. It was the four of hearts. 

Ricardo was in disbelief with Jack's luck and could feel a pang of worry that he could lose his evening's takings and quickly gave Jack the last required card. Jack accepted and began to plead internally hoping it would do him some good. Please god or anybody who can hear me. Please let the last card be less than eight. He felt his forehead and the beads of sweat that had appeared from the tension. He went to turn the card but he couldn't his hand just wouldn't pick up the card. He imagined the two scenarios. A comfortable life, no more worries for money and the chance to see his family again. Or everything lost and his life in danger. He pondered as to whether he could take a beating or if Ricardo could find his family. Ricardo interrupted Jack's thoughts. "Turn the card then." Jack heard the change in Ricardo's voice and he knew he was just as nervous. It was a lot they were playing for ,more than he had ever imagined possible to obtain in his lifetime. Jack tried again but he just couldn't pick the card up. Ricardo couldn't wait any longer and took control turning the card and placing it face up on the table. The two rivals looked at the card and then looked at each other. There expressions painted the picture that the card gave each of them. They both knew it was the end. One face that of a winner and the other of a loser.

The End