Shuffled

Fiction

The scar was still a gouge. 

Dave Bretton rubbed at the deep pink crescent under his left eye, wondering why it had healed so poorly.

He always rubbed the scar when he gambled.

“Aces,” Pellion called and started flinging cards.

Pellion always misdealt, flinging the cards too aggressively.

This time the deal was good and Dave Bretton was holding a pair of Aces and a pair of tens before the draw.

He drew two, max amount at their Wednesday Night Hump Day poker party. Five years, same guys, LaFleur’s basement.

Dave drew a third ten and bet like a whale. He didn’t like bluffing.

“Damn, Divebomb, in pretty strong. Get a raise at McCullough’s?” 

Pellion said it with a lisp, sucking on a cocktail stirrer because LaFleur wouldn’t let them smoke in his basement anymore.

“Yeah,” Dave said. “Matter of fact, I did.”

“Fuck me, seriously? Waller said. “They wouldn’t even hire me.”

“You don’t wanna work for McCullough,” Dave said, and he was serious.

“How’d you even get in, Divebomb?” Waller asked. “They told me that you needed a four-year degree.”

Waller called, Dave won the pot, which was mostly his money to begin with.

“They’re letting me work toward mine,” Dave said.

“What, one fowling class at a time?” Pellion said. 

Everyone laughed, and Dave smiled.

“You don’t wanna work for Dan McCullough anyway, trust me.”

“Ok, maybe I don’t but I’m still curious how you got in there,” Waller said.

Dave Bretton leaned back on one of LaFleur’s basement barstools, almost tipped, caught himself with the edge of the table.

“I don’t like talking about. Really not supposed to talk about it.”

“How can you not like talking about getting a job? What, ya have to blow someone?” Dingman cracked. 

The joke fell flat. Waller and Pellion both saw the same look in Divebomb’s eyes. A mix of sad and haunted.

“After the fight at Kuzniar’s pig roast…” Dave Bretton rubbed at his scar. He didn’t mean to do it to illustrate the story, it was just a reflex.

“...I had to maintain employment as a term of probation. Pretty standard. But Conner Landscaping went under because Billy Conner was snorting all his dad’s money and I was out of a job. PO was cool with it for about two months, then started leaning on me. Finally, he was gonna violate me and…and…and…I got the job at McCullough.”

All the faces at the table knew Dave Bretton was omitting something. 

“So you, on probation at 19, with a gnarly scar on your face from Sean Casey’s Mad Dog bottle get hired at McCullough, but they don’t wanna hire Waller? LaFleur said. “Gotta admit that’s pretty weird.”

“Ummm, yeah. I… “  Dave Bretton hesitated, scanned the room. Decided he might never have better friends than the guys in front of him, decided he might as well find out who his friends were.

“When I was fourteen, before I met you guys, I got invited to a party in Commerce Township. Big house on a lake. Like my Uncle Bert had to drive me and drop me off. We were drinkin’, played Truth or Dare. I…I…”

“...I have a kid. A ten-year-old son. Ethan.”

One of the rules of Hump Day poker was that phones must remain off.

Dave pulled his from his pocket, turned it on, flipped to his first photo and put the phone on the table for everyone to see.

“I…I haven’t seen him, in person, ever. His aunt raises him in Lake Tahoe. I…I write him letters, and stuff…birthday gifts. His mom, Angie, was just fourteen, so her oldest sister raised the baby like it was hers. Ethan doesn’t really know any different, really, probably never will…well, you guys can probably tell from the picture.”

Waller put his hand on Dave’s shoulder. He was confused by the turn the conversation took, but empathetic.

“I love you bro, must be tough not to see your kid.”

Dave forced a little smile.

“The boss says if I keep my shit together, keep showing up on time, keep doing good work and stay sober he’ll fly me out to see the kid for his thirteenth birthday.”

Eight eyes stared at Dave Bretton.

He tried to stare back, but he ended up staring down at a pile of playing cards.

“Daniel McCullough is Ethan’s grandfather.”

***

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