Dead Man's Hand

I remembered that Matt had never really wanted to keep that particular creation, well any of my creations, a secret. In fact, he had come very close to ruining our friendship with that stupid desire. If it weren’t for the fact that I always left him with access to a stunning array of tools I probably would have kept my mouth shut, well I would have tried at any rate. “You haven’t been talking to anyone about any of the tools, have you?”


I squinted my eyes as I sensed Matt’s forthcoming prevarication in his answer, so I quickly added another question. “Not even in an indirect kind of way?”

This time he let mock pain and the barest hint of indignation fill his voice as he answered. “Marcus, you wound me.”

“Don’t give me that!”

“You’ve got to be joking. Don’t push it Marcus.”

I took great pains not to allow too much sternness into my voice, and I think I managed to get just the right blend of inflection. “Matt?” Sometimes I am impressed at what I can do with a single word. Unfortunately it is not a skill I’m terribly good at, but on the rare occasion when I can master it, I am rewarded.

Though, as the seconds began to tick by I had a sinking feeling that my one word enquiry hadn’t been as skilled as I thought. Part of the reason that I had so much trouble with it, at least when dealing with Matt, was because he was older than me. When we first met, our friendship definitely started with my leaning upon both his knowledge and experience. But time went marching on and the nature of our friendship and partnership changed. Using my gift, I started to take on the leadership role, and somehow managed to do that while trying not to wrest anything away from him. I would like to believe this had all been for the best and that Matt would agree with me on this point, but sometimes I had my doubts, like now.

I let out a sigh of relief when he answered me, “No, Marcus I haven’t been talking.” Unlike me, Matt has always been able to guard his secrets, not that I couldn’t but he has never found it difficult to read me. That being said, there are times when I’m certain he is being honest with me and this was one of those times.

Normally he probably wouldn’t have minded my pressing him about his ability to keep a secret, but the circumstance was anything but normal. I had ducked too many of his recent calls. I should have kept that little fact in mind, but I didn’t. Oh well, there really wasn’t much I could do about it now except listen and wait for the other shoe to drop. But that was not what came my way, instead I got a pleasantly offered statement of fact. “You’ve beaten that little fear of yours into my head often enough through the years that it has become one of my own. All your secrets will die with me. And before you have the chance to ask, there is no one in the house, so there’s no chance that anyone is listening in on our conversation.” With a sharp intake of breath Matt paused a moment before adding, “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this place emptied this time when I haven’t had a successful conversation with you all week long?”

Not all that hard, I thought instantly though, I was somehow able to keep myself from letting it out. A feat made all the more impressive by the fact I was only giving Matt a slice of my attention. After all, I was in the middle of surveying the warehouse I was going to play at tomorrow and he knew that. Normally, he would hang up and let me continue on with the surveillance. But then, I had been ignoring him for more than a week, and I hadn’t been rectifying that in this conversation. What ever happened to his not carrying a grudge?

It shouldn’t have surprised me to hear him use my name the way I had tried to use his. He definitely had that skill down pat. With a slight shudder I asked him to repeat the question that I had missed, which he did, though a bit begrudgingly. But before he said a word I knew what he was about to ask. Why did I pick up the phone this time?

“Did you ever manage to find out who was orchestrating this little tourney that you just had to go too?” He placed a bit of scorn into those last few words solely to remind me what he thought about my participation in this tournament.

And with that question, I realized that I should have known better. I should have stuck to my guns and ignored this call too. I would have owed Matt a pretty big favor, well bigger than the one I apparently already owed him at any rate, but I really should have just let him leave me another voicemail, if he even could have left one. I never listen to my voicemail.

I would have answered most any other question, but this was the exact question I had been trying to avoid. Now despite the fact that Matt could, upon occasion, keep secrets from me, this didn’t mean that I didn’t know him. You can’t know someone for as long as we have and not know all the different tones of their voice, their body language, mannerisms, and all the rest. No I knew him. But it happened that he knew me just as well, if not better. Even over the phone I had never been able to outright lie to him. I could stretch the truth when necessary… if I was lucky, a feat that I had accomplished only a handful of times. I had even been able to get away with a lie of omission face to face, granted those had taken place fairly early on in our friendship. But I have never been able to lie to him.

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