, 8
, and 2
.
At this point, Balot had no pairs and no chance of a flush.
A straight was still possible, using the ten, eight, and seven, but Balot didn’t know what the odds were of that happening.
The second round of betting started with the blinds: the cowboy put in thirty dollars, which the Doctor called, as did Balot on Oeufcoque’s instructions.
At this point the old gentleman folded, placing his cards facedown on the table.
The suit, on the other hand, called, and then raised by another thirty. No one folded, and by the time they were back at the suit, the pot had swollen from its original $280 to $520. Balot suddenly thought of what she would have had to do in her previous line of work in order to make that much money. The thought made her sick.
She knew that she would struggle to walk away from the hand now. She didn’t want to know what Oeufcoque had planned.
It seemed that Oeufcoque was ruminating deeply. As to the identity of the mechanic. She realized that he might not even be bothered by the actual outcome of this hand.
The third round commenced.
The dealer discarded the burn card again, then revealed the fourth community card.
The turn card, it was called, the penultimate community card. It was J
. Balot jumped unconsciously.
She now had the jack, ten, eight, and seven; if the next card was a nine she’d have a straight.
She sensed that Oeufcoque was working out the next card using something beyond human perception.
If not, and he was just forcing her to call regardless, he was a rank amateur.
Or was he just trying to get her to act as if
The cowboy started off with a thirty-dollar bet, which the Doctor called.
The words floated up on her hand—she could feel them clearly, but still she had to check a number of times to convince herself that this was right.
She placed the chips down. Balot now had a total of $210 riding on this hand.
She saw visions of all her winnings from the slot machines disappearing in an instant, and she felt a pang of fear.
The suit called her sixty and raised another sixty. The cowboy called, and the Doctor did the same. It was Balot’s turn again.
This was the instruction she was given. It was do or die. She had no idea why she had to go in so strong in the very first hand. Balot called the sixty raised by the suit. Then she raised herself, bringing her total contribution to the pot to $330.
The suit showed not a moment’s hesitation. Indeed, he went on to re-raise himself.
The cowboy called—and, incredibly, raised again.
At this point the Doctor checked. A special move permitted from the third round of betting onward in which the player chooses to stay in the game without betting any more money at this stage. Balot became acutely aware that it was up to her now, and when the instruction came from Oeufcoque to
The suit called, and just when it seemed that betting for this round was over,
“Raise.” It was the suit again. Returning fire, thorough and ruthless.
So came Oeufcoque’s orders. The cowboy called, as did Balot. $510, now.
The Doctor, however, folded, laying his cards on the table.
After the suit called again, the cowboy called too. Moreover, “Raise, sixty dollars,” he added.
Oeufcoque was telling her to call again. She obeyed. She was now up to $570.
The suit called, and finally the round was over. There was nearly two thousand dollars in the pot.
This stupid sum of money was about to flutter away like a paper plane.
The old gentleman and the potbelly, though both out of the hand, were watching the progress with deep interest.
The dealer discarded the burn card for the third time this hand, then revealed the river card, the fifth and final community card.
They were in the final round of betting.
Balot looked at it without thinking, and it was all she could do not to reveal her disappointment.
The card was 7
. She’d come this far, and in the end all she was left with was a pair of sevens. Or were the suit and cowboy both bluffing too, and did she have enough to beat them even with her weak hand?
Right now, though, the cowboy was leisurely increasing his bet.
Following Oeufcoque’s instructions, Balot threw another sixty in, trying to appear as disinterested as possible.
“I’ll see your sixty dollars and raise another sixty,” said the suit, and the cowboy called and re-raised.
Balot stuck in another $120 to call, but then she realized Oeufcoque’s instruction was not yet complete, and he was finishing it now:
Balot’s stomach was churning, but she knew that she had to go along unquestioningly or else she would arouse the suspicion of those around her. Furrowing her brow without even realizing it, Balot raised again. An outlay of $180.
The suit glanced at Balot. “Call, and raise sixty dollars,” he said calmly, laying his chips on the table.
Teeth bared, the cowboy called and then raised again.
Oeufcoque’s next instruction was abrupt.
Balot’s hand—already holding the chips required to call—stopped suddenly. This was nonsense. Completely at odds with what she’d been doing up till now.
A broad smirk broke out across the cowboy’s face. A most disagreeable smile, as if he were coercing someone to do something against their will. Then he turned to square off against the suit.
The suit, on the other hand, called with a breezy tone and raised again. The cowboy growled, called for the last time, and then the betting was over and it was time for the showdown.
