There was a poker game that night. I resolved to go. I resolved to be a man. I resolved to win.
I called Butch. He was into it.
It was at a social club in Hoboken, across the river. Neon sign in the frosted window. Hudson County Men’s Club. Peephole in the door. A big lunk with a homemade haircut opened it.
We’re here for the poker game, I said.
The Lunk nodded, opened the door.
We walked in.
It was a picture from long ago. Linoleum floors. Hideous fluorescent light struggling through decades of dust and dead flies. Wooden fold-up chairs. Mary Mother of Jesus on the wall. In the corner the regulars were playing gin rummy. Beefy unsmiling guys with a lot of black hair and a way with a lead pipe.
They ignored us.
I wondered how Mike had talked his way into this place.
I didn’t ask. No percentage in it.
I sat down. Everyone was there. Butch. Mike. Straight Jake. Drunk Jake. Andrea. Jonesie. Even the Dane had made an appearance. I smiled and shook his hand. He gave me a sheepish nod. I realized that he had been more mortified than me. He’d stayed away the last few games out of embarrassment.
It goes to show. There’s always someone more fucked up than you.
I played aggressive. I jammed the pot. I bluffed like hell. I hooded my eyes and glared the others down, my head slightly tilted in contempt. I said little. I drank a lot. I had no qualms. I had no inhibitions. I didn’t care. I was doing it for my father, my brother, my self-respect.
I won and kept on winning. I could see the dismay grow on their faces.
Butch ran out of high fives. He ran out of cash.
I can’t compete, man, he said.
He called a cab.
It made me strong. They’d never seen a thing like this. I was in the zone. The slightest sign of weakness I could smell as clear as rotting fish. I pounced on it. I smelled the strong hands too. I picked up cues. I folded in odd places. I showed my rags when I’d jammed them out of a pot. I showed my Aces when I folded them to a straight. I had them on the run. Confusing. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
Andrea was losing too, like all the rest. But her dismay turned gradually to admiration. She leaned over, joked about the new aggressive me. I could smell the sexuality as strongly as the cards. I’d become a dog. A wolf. A snake. A door was opened to a new and feral world. My nether regions stirred.
My God, I thought. I’ve become a man again.
I won the last pot too. It was inevitable. It was a rush for the ages. I gathered up the cash. I stuffed it in my pockets, inside, out. I’d taken everybody’s money. They looked at me with awe. They weren’t angry. They were amazed. My pockets bulged. I grabbed Drunk Jake around the neck, dragged him into the night.