I was eventually able to shake that realization but it had cost me a small chunk of my chips. I refocused myself on the game and, for the next hour or so, Tyson was busy trying to eliminate Malone. I had managed to eliminate Gregory. While all of us were hemorrhaging chips to Tyson, Gregory was simply doing so at a higher rate. Now he still had about a quarter of chips when he fell to me, but I was certain that the fact he had been losing so much and so fast surly weighed in on his decisions.
I had been able to find a single chink in Gregory’s decent demeanor, and it was more of a gut feeling than a chink. But it was enough to tell me that he had gotten two pair with the flop. As it stood his hand was better than mine but I had a good draw, though I certainly needed more help. It came with the last card, I had gotten my straight. And I was even able to coax Gregory to pony all he had left. While I was sorting my new found wealth he was escorted to the stadium seats. I now had some protection from Tyson’s bullying, though he still had quite the lead.
As sweet as the memory of my recent victory was, I needed to focus on what was happening around me. Bringing my attention back to the present I looked over at Jonathan and saw him tapping his cards, nervous habits weren’t a good thing to have in poker. Granted, without context that alone would mean absolutely nothing. Sure you could probably guess that he was nervous but that would probably be about it. But I had been studying these people so I was able to place it in context. I knew he was going to fold and I probably knew it before he did.
Within a few moments Jonathan proved my guess correct when he tossed his cards back to the dealer. And then there were two. Kelly’s bet was to Tyson, and the man wasted no time re-raising Kelly enough to bankrupt her if she choose to pursue the hand. I knew Kelly’s hand was nothing better than two pair, maybe trips if she was lucky, but there were a lot of possible combinations that would beat either of those hands. So far she had shown herself to be a competent player, if not a really good one, so she had to see that as well. She was going to fold, her brain just had to get the message to her hands. But she sat there staring at Tyson’s new raise seriously contemplating whether she would match it. Had she somehow found a tell amidst Tyson’s chiseled fa?ade? Or was she simply frustrated with how Tyson was bullying them?
But after a few more moments the analytical portion of her mind must have kicked in because she surrendered the hand to Tyson. The silent juggernaut smiled as he flipped over his pocket kings revealing his winning hand, trip kings. From here I could feel the frustration radiating off of her, was it possible that she could have won the hand if she had stayed in? It would certainly fit her, but more than likely she was just frustrated that Tyson had won another hand again. Begrudgingly I had to admit that Tyson was a very good strategist, though his steel etched face certainly helped mask what he was planning.
My legs were growing stiff so I needed to stand up and stretch. I stood and it felt great to reach for the vaulted ceiling above our heads. Before I was finished I heard Allison voice sweetly ask, “Giving up so soon Marcus?”
I knew she was just trying to get under my skin. Still stretching, I spoke gently as I answered her taunt. “Perish the thought Alison. No I’m simply stretching my stiff body, I was getting a little sore.” As I finished with that particular stretch I went on to another one and continued, “I don’t know about you, but after sitting down for three hours I could use a quick stretch.”
William, who was still sitting next to me, picked up the chips required for the big blind and held them for a moment. “Well you two can do whatever you want; meanwhile a game is going on.” With that he tossed his bet into pot, letting the chips punctuate his words.
And when the last chip hit the table the dealer began dealing out the hand and within a few moments the cards were ready for us all. With the cards in place and everyone waiting on me I sighed like a put upon child and returned to my seat. I lifted up the corners of my cards I saw both the seven and ace of spades. An ace and a seven were not much on their own but they were suited and that was worth pursuing at least for a while. I sat there for a minute and tapped the table with my fingers, pretending to think about the odds. As long as no one tried to raise the big blind I was willing to pay to see the flop. “Well their good enough for me to see the flop.” I said aloud as I tossed in the required chips.
Now Allison was on the clock. While she thought about her cards I let my eyes wander around the room, but they ultimately fell upon Tyson’s eyes. Those cold and steely blue eyes kept pulling me back whenever I tried to look away. Something about them was just off. And I couldn’t put my finger on it, which only further unsettled me. Every time I was drawn to study the tiny fields of blue and white, my uneasiness grew by leaps and bounds.
When I look at something that is alive I expect to see the normal signs of life staring right back at me. Even something as simple as looking at a pair of eyes I can tell when someone is still driving the bus, so to speak. But staring into Tyson’s eyes, I couldn’t see the slightest sign of life. If the eyes truly are the windows to one’s soul then at that moment I would have shouted to the world that Tyson was in fact soulless, that he was just a very advanced automaton, but I knew better. Robots didn’t exist. So how was his gaze so lifeless?