Harry's notes: chapter 10. This is a longish chapter; it will tie in some important elements in the final two chapters, so pay attention. Again I lament a Military section in Lit. Thanks to all who have commented, favorited and added me to their author list. Also, thanks to all who participated in the Summer Poetry Contest voting. enjoy.
Daniel Sand watched the wedding party depart the streets of Backwater with shouts, waves, and honking horns; the traditionally decorated vehicle led a covert force away behind the newlywed couple. He glanced to the few humans leaving the impromptu reception hosted in Mildred's. Walking into the empty coffee house, he passed below to the hidden domain of Fay. Dropping the tightly held illusion of the impeccably suited business man, he called to his council.
--Brothers, meet me at the war table. I want Operation Sweet Water running as soon as River Base is operational and secure. Striding the corridors under Backwater, he allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction now that Operation River was running.
***
Harry drifted from one thought to another while Oldman and Sandra used his body to play hold 'em poker at the $5/ $10 table of the Tunica casino. They were on their honeymoon. A working honeymoon Sandra's Father had called it. He could call it what he wanted because he had paid for the rooms and given five thousand dollars as a wedding gift, that was actually seed money. Over the past two days, they had steadily increased that stake, although Sandra did not speak of the accumulated winnings.
They were joined by man as well as Fay now after a quiet ceremony at the courthouse, sans relatives and friends, although all those seemed to attend now.
A long caravan of vehicles, filled with well-wishers, followed them here; they were still celebrating the mating feast, the discovery of their long lost champion who was the eldest of their race, and the temple of treasures, which Edgar had held safe for them. Even now, Harry could see the Fay with his newfound sight. Bright auras were scattered over the visible portion of the casino floor as he looked through the windows separating the poker room from the rest of the casino.
There was no way the slots could be beat by Fay powers; they were bound by the same chances and odds as humans. It didn't stop them from playing though. The flashing lights and chiming sounds held a strange attraction for them. Even the drunken Silas seemed more animated and sober; he sat at a machine attended by one of his waitresses from the bar, aura flashing with his laughter.
Maddie was nearby, steadily playing the quarter slot machine she had claimed for the past two days. It was good being near her, if only through the glass. She conversed animatedly with other grey haired patrons nearby that were pressing buttons and laughing.
Harry reached for his cup of coffee, finding it empty; he put it down in disgust. He was ready for a break from the long hours at the table. Oldman raked in another pot, tossing chips in the pockets of Harry's tweed, worn as a concession to his nuptial duties.
Sandra and Donna appeared at his side, carrying his chips away to the cashier and making a reservation for a 10:00 P.M. game. Harry stood before another hand started; reaching in the pocket of his jacket, he tossed a chip to the dealer, paying no attention to the denomination. Be a player, win big, loose small, and be seen to tip were his instructions. Besides, he had to do something with the chips Oldman kept sticking in his jacket.
He stretched to relieve five hours' worth of inactivity from his limbs. It was hard work to lose enough to seem like a normal player while using Sandra's ability to see the cards in the thoughts of the players. However, such had been his command by his father-in-law. The message had been delivered by his new brother in law, his new business partner, his new friend. He left the poker room to find him. Oldman slid from his mind to supervise the chip redemption greedily with Sandra.
Harry found Gerry at the blackjack tables he had haunted from arrival. Why he played there when a fortune awaited at the poker tables, Harry would never understand.
Gerry sat straight backed in a chair at the number five position of the blackjack table, a half empty beer near his hand; he leaned over the table easily, forearms on the padded rails, studying the cards that lay face up before him. He had a nineteen; he would stand. The Fay on his right held with a fifteen, because he knew the dealer also had a fifteen. He knew because he saw the cards in the surface of the dealers mind. The dealer, forced to draw, hit a nine and busted; he paid the winners. Harry walked up behind him.
"Are you hungry yet," Harry asked as he grabbed Gerry's shoulder. Head nodding, Gerry watched the play and re-bet, he made no verbal reply as he studied the new cards dealt to him.
--Hey Harry, Gerry said in his mind. "I could eat," he said aloud, then continued silently. ...We have our basic requirements to open a store in Memphis with that last game you finished. How much longer are you and Sandra going to stay?
--We'll leave in the morning after breakfast and catch up with you there. Harry replied in the same manner, turning and wandering away to a nearby craps table. ...You should have enough time to decide on a location and start looking for a storefront, as long as it will take us to get there. Immediate possession would be nice; then we could get home faster.
--You're such an optimist, Gerry sent at his retreating back. Amused laughter and calls among the players at the table followed him as the game continued.
While Harry began gambling at the craps table, he followed Sandra's, Oldman's, and Donna's progress from the cashier's cage and across the casino floor toward him.
Oldman, feeling Harry's attention, joined him. His ability to move from mind to mind had become fluid now; his presence was just there or not, as he moved between Harry and Sandra. No one else had cared to permit Oldman to occupy their mind, even though, Sandra had proof that he could be forcefully rejected, if the option was needed; everyone, that is, except Harry of course; he was stuck with him.
--Holy shit Harry, you've got a stack going. Oldman gushed excitedly. The original fifty-dollar chips that begun play at the table, was now five fifty. Harry pushed the entire stack to the field. Oldman sputtered; he was obsessed with the science of probability and began muttering numbers in the background of Harry's thoughts.
--What is this? No hello, no goodbye, you just pop back and forth as you please now? Harry bitched at Oldman. Craps came up; Harry doubled.
--HE, HE, HE, Oldman cackled, as he took possession of Harry's hands, and began stuffing chips in his pockets.
--Help yourself you old bastard, Harry thought.
--I will, Oldman replied tartly. ...Community property and all that you know. Sandra's real and mental laughter echoed in his ears and mind, as she moved close to the table and their bickering play. Oldman sputtered again as Harry pushed the remaining stack of chips to the come line, and turned away.
Donna and Maddie arrived with her, laughing happily, arm in arm. Sandra was dressed in a soft brown suede dress that dripped from her body in supple folds. The eye of many of the women nearby appraised it jealously. A matching purse, with sculptured fringe and bone decorations, depended from her shoulder by a waist length cord. Soft brown leather slippers made no sound, as she slipped next to him, taking his arm, then resting her chin on his shoulder and staring up into his face.
"My bride," Harry said, kissing her softly, letting his eyes descend into the depths of her gaze.
--Community property, where's mine, she said during the kiss. A roar followed the rattle of dice, as they flew over the felt and rebounded for a seven. The croupier paid the pass line, Oldman again pulled chips, stuffing them in Sandra's purse to clatter down over the wads of cash that were accumulated there.
--Here 'ya go. Oldman said magnanimously. Harry regained use of his hands once again, pushing the remaining stack to the pass line. Craps, on the first pass, took the bet. Harry turned from the table.
"Can we eat now?" He asked, with a boyish grin that was engaging on his worn face.
"I'm ready." said Maddie, and led the way toward the lobby and the buffet.
"Me too," Gerry echoed, following closely, leaning over her and speaking in her ear as they walked away. Harry's mind slipped into abstract thoughts as he walked behind. Sandra and Oldman shared a headshake and a thought.
--There he goes again. Sandra called it when he stared out of the windows in his mind. Oldman said it made a great poker face. Whatever it was, the people protected its valuable asset fiercely.
Harry let Oldman move his body through the buffet as the group scattered among the serving lines that were full; hungry gambler's filled their grumbling stomachs with food before assaulting the games and devices of luck and chance once more. Harry chewed mechanically. Oldman stuffed food in his mouth until he noticed one of the Shining People that were not from Backwater moving in the room. He drew back to the shared presence of the Fay in the room, examining her with their eyes.
--Hey Harry, look at this; where did she come from?
The Fay waitress had seated them all at a large, round, table. He could see her faintly orange aura dimly through Sandra's eyes, but little else of her form that moved within her tightly controlled illusion of a young blonde haired woman in serving uniform with 'Lori' on her nametag.
Her surprise and delight to meet rarely encountered members of her race was a brave front, marred by fear. Her smiling face as she moved about them masked her real and assumed image. She tried to convey the danger that frequented this area; the slaughter of her siblings as they reached maturity, moving about the environs in unguarded form, was foremost. Her joy at finding others of her race, and in such force, danced around the warning thoughts in glee.
Sandra and Donna's eyes met across the table. Calming thoughts and images flowed from them; they washed over the agitated surface of the girls thoughts, stilling them, until they were reduced to gently disturbed ripples in the pool of her mind. Sandra raised one of the glasses of water, appearing to look into the vessel for a moment, and spoke softly to the girl.
"Lo ri na, we greet you." She sipped from the glass in a manner no different from those around them. Misted feelings of tears showed in shimmered eyes as the dimly remembered form of ceremony swam blindingly in Lorie's mind; she bustled about the table, head bent at her tasks.
"I greet you." She whispered, casting anxious glances of eye and awareness around the room. She stood straight, leaving the table with a bright covering smile. Harry's eyes followed as she moved about the buffet tables; her minuscule nods to the people of their entourage answered the softly spoken words, thoughts, and greetings.