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.