Blue crocuses around her feet
North prairie house that stands alone
And the light goes down behind the painted shutters
In the early dark
And Persephones daughters are home
Danny had read the Persephone story: she had been taken away from her mother for part of the year, and the separation made winter. But her daughters…?
Hard benches in the emigrant cars Straight horizon under strange new stars Railroad passage to a dream of land I 'ntil the wheels stop turning And the milk needs churning And the chaff wants burning And the days get over too soon To quite understand
White crosses in a pale green plot
Time passes but the heart moves not
Take comfort that its Someone's will
As the storm wina" s rising and the beech tree shudders
In the golden haze
And Persephone's daughters are still
Long shadows from the great white mills Thunder echoes from the unseen hills Somewhere surely there are welcome lights But this is where you 're dwelling And the crop needs weeding And the children feeding And there's never time for a word To soften her nights
Danny glanced around the room, wondering if there was anyone here who hadn't left home for the Shade. Did anyone get born here? He hadn't seen any children at all. He turned his head away, looked out the window at the empty street. He didn't stop listening.
Gray geese across the diamond sky
How long the wings have passed her by
Good children ought to carry on
But the clouds shine doubled on the clear blue waters
In the silver night
And Persephone's daughters are gone
Carmen took her bow and came back to the table. Around the room, the other diners were rising from their seats. "Guess we should start?"
"Guess we should," Lucius said.
The crowd was moving to a large back room. The tables here were covered with green felt. Behind a brass teller's cage Danny could see racked chips, cased decks of cards in neat stacks. There were already people around a craps table, and a roulette wheel was turning.
A slightly plump blond woman in a green velvet tuxedo was greeting people, shaking hands. "Hello, Lucius, Fox. Nice number, Carmen; thanks. Or do I owe you?"
"Owe Alvah next time you see him. It's his lyric."
Lucius said, "Doc, this is Flats Montoya. She owns this joint. Flats, meet Doc Hallownight. He's giving us a try tonight."
"Good evening, Doc. Didn't I read about you in Lucius's column the other night?"
"She can cook a rare burger and she reads my column," Lucius said. "Will you marry me? Or at least let me leave teeth marks on your ankles?"
"Let's hear it for journalistic ethics. Welcome to the game, Doc. Good luck."
They sat down at one of the round tables. Stagger Lee said, "Our game is even buy-in, table stakes, dealer's choice. You can sit out any game you don't like; we're all friends here, but the game's still poker. Is that all right?"
"Sure."
"I'll get the box," the Tokyo Fox said. "Hundred chips each?"
"Make it a hundred fifty," Stagger said. "Keep us going longer."
Kitsune nodded and went to the teller's cage. Danny saw the others putting coins on the table, and did likewise. Stagger helped him work out the value of his stake, since the original denominations of the coins didn't seem to mean much here. The Fox returned with several racks of chips and a black wooden box. "The cash goes in here," she said to Danny, "and the house holds the box until we're finished and divide up. They also get a cut of the box for the use of the table. Got it?"
"Yeah. But why does the money all go up there?"
"Two reasons," the Fox said. "One, a lot of things get used for money in the Shadow; this establishes that everybody put her stake up, whether it's gold or shamrocks." She herself had put in a small pouch full of beautifully cut stones. "Two, it avoids confusion if someone isn't paying attention, or takes a long piss break, or whatever. Oh, and there's bar service back here too, just in case you think you're playing too well."
So they played poker. It was, as Stagger Lee had said, a Friendly game, but there was nothing loose about it; a dropped card meant a redeal, as Danny found out carls on. Stagger Lee never dealt anything but seven-card stud, no wilds. Kitsune liked draw games, with occasional variations. Lucius alternated seven-stud and five-draw. Carmen changed games every deal, but always called for high-low; it seemed to pay off for her. Danny stuck mostly to five-card draw, what he knew best; he won a couple of big pots but mostly lost slowly.
There was one thing Danny had never seen before: the buck to show last dealer was a waiter's green order pad, and part of the deal was noting each player's total of chips. All the tables seemed to be doing it.
It was nearly eleven when the lights flashed red, and a low chime sounded through the room.
Immediately everyone shoved his and her chips into the center of the table. Every table. Danny stared for a moment, and Lucius shoved Danny's chips in. The Fox slipped the green pad into the flap of her dress. There was a buzz, and the centers of the tables just opened up; the chips dropped out of sight, and the green felt sealed up again.
Meanwhile, the craps players snapped their chips into racks on the table edge, and the table slid like a drawer into the wall. Two croupiers pulled a false tabletop away from the wainscoting and dropped it over the roulette table; a moment later, waiters were setting salad and hors d'oeuvre dishes out on the "buffet." The teller's cage retracted a foot into the wall, and a panel slid down and faced out flush.
Another set of waiters came in with trays, and dealt out tea cups, pie, and brandy to all the seated patrons. The standing players were handed drinks; some lit cigarettes, some lounged against the walls.
A few moments later four police officers came barrelling through the door. Copper buttons glittered on their blue uniforms. "All right," the man in the lead bellowed, "this place is-" He paused, looked around.
Flats came in, her tuxedo jacket off, a bib-front apron tied over her ruffled shirt and velvet trousers. It read KISS THE COOK. "Hello, O'Gara," she said pleasantly.
"What's been going on back here, citizen Montoya?" the policeman said.
"Looks like dessert, O'Gara. Want some tea? I'm all out of doughnuts, and you know I can't afford coffee these days."
The show went on for fifteen minutes or so; finally the cops filed back out.
"We always give them fifteen minutes' departure grace," Lucius said to Danny. "Drink your brandy: when there's a raid it's on the house."