It was dangling there, hanging from a nail in the wall on a little copper-plated hemp string. It shone softly with a crystalline silver reflection, almost translucent. Sometimes, when through the ... [+]
The casino was dark. The only sounds were from the slot machines, roulette wheels, and laughter–and more commonly–groans of the patrons. The carpeted floor was red like blood, as though it has been absorbing the despair of its spenders for many years.
‘Ugh, I hate this floor.'
The man in a shabby outfit thought to himself. He hated this floor, he's always hated it. Maybe because the carpet felt like a trap pulling his feet further into the building, or maybe because its bloody color reminded him of that night.
‘No... don't let your thoughts go there.'
The man tried to suppress the lines forming on his forehead and the frown his lips were making.
‘Just focus on the game...'
He fruitlessly thought. Three of the cards were already out in front of him, four other people were all sitting around the poker table. None of them revealed anything from their faces. The man looked down at his two measly cards, knowing he wasn't as skilled as the other four. Knowing that he, as a father, needed to win more than anyone else.
"20."
"Call."
"Call."
"Call."
"...Call."
All five of them pushed forward their chips, one of them more hesitant than the others. That man was, of course, the father.
‘If I win this I can pay for the car.'
The hesitant man thought to himself, unable to keep his thoughts on the game. Every time he looked up he could see the cold and indifferent expressions of the people around him. He hated those faces. They were all too similar to those police officers, the faces of people holding back their emotions and putting on a perfect mask of stoicism. Something he could never do. Not that night, not now.
"40."
"Call."
"Call."
"Call."
"...Call."
The man pushed forward more chips.
‘I wish she were here.... She always knew what to do. She always kept her cool no matter what.'
The man thought to himself, certain that if the roles were reversed his wife would carry this weight far better than himself. He looked down at his still poor cards. All five cards were laid out in front of him on the table, and he's not any better off than when he started.
‘Take care of the kids while I'm gone.'
He remembered the last words of his wife as he looked down at his cards. The car is totalled, insurance isn't doing anything, he lost his job, but he still needed to feed his kids.
‘I can't back down. I need this money. They need this.'
"80."
"Call."
"Call."
"Call."
"..."
The final bet was happening and he paused. He knew that the people here must have better cards than him, he needed to bluff and scare them away.
‘If I go all-in, that should scare them, right?'
He looked down at his chips. His family's grocery money, rent, and so so much more.
‘I need this money.'
He thought to himself.
‘This is the only way.'
He lied to himself.
‘I'm not strong enough on my own...'
He knew.
His hands had a slight tremor as they moved to his small pile of chips. His voice was shaking, but he tried to steady it as he finally spoke.
"All–"
Vrr
He was about to say it, but felt the smallest of vibrations from his phone. He paused. Then, slowly, he pulled out his phone. He knew it was rude to do so at the table, but he also knew who was texting him. He looked at the light of his screen and read the short message.
Dad where are you?
He knew why his kids were worried about where he was, after what happened with their mother, who could blame them? He opened up the message and was about to type his reply. But he couldn't. His fingers froze in front of the keys.
‘What do I say...?'
He despairingly thought to himself. What could he say to his children? How could he comfort their anxiety? How, when he could see his own shaking hands?
‘How could I tell them...?'
He felt like the dim lights around him were getting darker.
‘How could I tell them that their father is in a casino gambling right now?!'
He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wasn't strong enough to handle this, not the grief, not the responsibility. He knew he had to shut it out of his mind. He couldn't afford to think about his kids right now, he couldn't think about his failure, he just needed to win. His mouth was opening and closing, preparing to finally say the words. All-in. That's all he had to say. It was simple. But his mind replayed again, those words.
‘Take care of the kids while I'm gone.'
He looked down at his phone screen. He knew what he had to do.
The door unlocked easily as he opened it and walked in. He could hear his children's footsteps getting louder.
"Dad! You're back!"
The kids smiled up at him brightly. The father could feel his eyes start to blur and tear up looking at their faces. He felt his knees start to buckle and let himself crouch down to them. He took each one in his arms and surrounded them in his embrace. They hugged back, unaware of how much it meant to him.
‘I'm sorry kids, your father's so stupid.'
He thought to himself, and only barely stopped himself from saying aloud.
‘Take care of the kids while I'm gone.'
He remembered her smile. The way her eyes looked at him like she knew he could handle anything, like she relied on him. And his kids, the way they smile at him, and hug him back like they truly missed him.
‘I'm never going back to that dark place.'
He swore to himself.
‘From now on I'll give you my everything.'
No matter what, he would provide for them, comfort them, and be the thing to lean on even when he's lost his. He would give his children his everything.
‘I'm all-in.'