Illusion
by Saro
Billy Evans used to hustle on Ruben -- mostly Three Card Monte, though he
picked a few pockets and dabbled in bigger cons. I remember his hands were
black as crude oil, and big to move as fast as they did. He would shuffle
the cards like a pro, heckling any potential marks constantly while his big,
clever hands flew back and forth. I used to be able to watch him for hours.
"The trick," he told me once, "is to keep talkin'. Even if they don't want
to, they're listenin' to you with half an ear, and that means they're not
really paying attention. Don't matter what you say, just so long as you're
sayin' it."
I watched him and listened, following the red queen as she shuttled around
between us.
"Can you find her, buddy?" Billy asked, starting in on the same speech he
gave all comers. "Find the queen. Come on, son, you're a sharp looking
boy. Why not give 'er a try? Just five credits. Find the red queen."
He could do that forever, I think, mouth on autopilot while he made it seem
like the queen was going right, but slid her under one of the other cards so
she stayed in the middle. The way he talked was easy to listen to. Not
like some hustlers. Some of those guys make you feel like you're listening
to an auctioneer. It's distracting, but it isn't mesmerizing like Billy's
voice was. I think he said the same things so often, they started turning
into a song.
"She's in there, son. You wanna give it shot? One time, free of charge."
He winked at me. "You ain't got nothin' to lose."
I smiled at him and nodded.
The cards stopped moving and his hands unfolded over them, waiting for me to
make my choice.
I picked a card and flipped it over, revealing the queen of hearts.
Billy blinked. "Well, shit," he'd said, and scratched frizzy, graying hair.
Good guy, Billy. He taught me a lot. If I wanted to, I could probably
make a living on Three Card Monte.
"Duo?" Heero asked, glancing over from the copilot's seat.
"Yeah?"
"You're being awfully quiet." His tone didn't really say if that was a good
thing or not. His brows were drawn down, maybe a little puzzled.
"Am I?" I said, leaning back and making a show of thinking about it. "I
guess I am. Just wandered off, you know?"
He made a noise that might have meant yes.
"You ready for this? I mean, should be a hell of a show. Maybe we should
have brought popcorn." I told him lightly, changing the subject. He
answered, or deflected, or ignored me as I chatted with him, eventually
going so far as to smile. An honest to god smile, too, not a smirk.
It's a tempting smile, but I'm not ready to be quiet just yet.
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