A Grim night for Poker

Choices We Make.

            A group of friends met for their weekly game of poker at Bob and Linda’s house. They liked to move the game around from house to house, each host getting an opportunity to show off their cooking ability and den environment. They had all been playing for an hour when there came a knock at the door. Bob gave an awkward smile as his wife Linda turned a deep shade of pink at the interruption, no one was expected. Bill made a crack about pizza delivery and the others chuckle save for the hosts whose antipasto had proved to be anti-edible. Linda glared at Bob as if to accuse him of ordering the pizza behind her back; Bob shrugged defensively and settled in to out wait the pizza man-if that was who it was- he had a good hand and betting was fierce.

            Steve gave a laugh and tossed in his hand as he stood and walked to answer the door. Linda looked sick and glared at Bob for not doing his host duty, Bob shrugged again as he had gotten shrugging down to a fine art and nodded his approval to Steve. Steve opened the door. It wasn’t a pizza delivery man; Linda breathed a sigh of relief. It was the Grim Reaper.

            Steve was speechless, which was probably what Steve did best. He took pride in how speechless he could be and he worked daily at it. He was speechless at work where he smiled and sat speechless at all the board meetings. This was due in part to his boss, Jillian who was the second biggest motor mouth that Steve had ever known. He was especially speechless at home where the biggest motor mouth belonged to his wife and the third belonging to their daughter. Steve practiced being speechless in the car when he drove to work and when he took showers. He was really good at being speechless.

            Steve looked at the Grim Reaper who looked back at him and he was being speechless with a new level of pizzazz. Steve stepped back and Linda hustled over putting on her best hostess face, which was bad since she was lousy at the hostess gig. She was also pissed at the interruption and pissed at her husband probably because he was a shrugger who never accomplished anything at home. When she would ask him to mow the yard he would shrug and go back to watching TV. When she would put own her best nighty and look alluring giving him little winks and shuffles, he would shrug and go put on his pajamas. Linda realized that she spent most of her time being pissed at her husband and glaring at him.

            “Hi, can I help you?” Linda said to the Grim Reaper.

            “Yes.” It replied.

            “Yes?”

            “Yes.” It said as it swept into the house. It walked across to her seat at the table and sat down, leaving Linda embarrassed all over again. Linda huffed and sniffed and glared at its back while wondering whether she spent more time being pissed or embarrassed at how her life had turned out. Now this Grim Reaper had come over uninvited and was sitting in her chair- was it going to drink her wine too?

            Steve returned to his seat ready to be speechless all over again while he waited for the Grim Reaper guy to explain it. Bob shrugged at his wife as she walked around to stand behind him and he tossed his cards on the table thinking he had won the hand. Richard stopped him with a bark of laughter as Bob reached for the chips. Bob looked at Richard as the man splayed out his winning hand and gave another bark of laughter.

            Before anyone could react the Grim Reaper picked up the cards with one bony hand and started shuffling them, each individual card flipping around each skeletal finger so fast it blurred. Lou started to speak as was her due since she was Steve’s wife and the biggest motor mouth he had even known, but no sound came out as a deathly silence settled on the table. The Grim Reaper dealt the cards face up to each player. Everyone had pretty good hands but the Reaper’s was all aces and eights in spades and clubs.

Joe, the poker expert gasped and a chill ran down his spine as he saw the hand. He knocked his knuckles on the wood table and looked around for some salt. The Reaper had dealt himself the infamous Dead Man’s Hand.

            How Joe was a gasper, he owned a wide variety of gasps; in fact he took great pride of this variety of gasps. He would practices his gasps in the morning as he shaved and in the car as he drove to work. It was in his car that he discovered that he was good at gasping. He had spilled his coffee in his lap one morning and let loose a gasp that had both startled and pleased him. For the next few mornings he would routinely spill coffee in his lap so he could capture the gasp perfectly. Then he tried various other foods and drinks marveling at the chilly gasps from icy coke to the shrill gasp when he burned himself with a cherry from his cigarette. The gasp he let loose at the poker table was his signature gasp: it spoke of wonder and fear and deep foreboding as if to say that he had felt someone walk on his future grave. Of course, this was the Grim Reaper, so it was entirely true.

            “What’s the bet?” Leo said nervously, he always asked what the bet was.

            “Your deaths.” The Grim Reaper replied.

            Richard gave a nervous bark of laughter.

            “Oh is that all.” Sheila sniped, she was Richard’s wife. “Well as you can see we are all very much alive.”

            “You are but not for long.” The Grim Reaper said flatly.

            “And how do you know that?” Barb asked from her place next to Leo, her husband. She was having a blond moment as everyone apparently see the Grim Reaper as more than just some creepy skeleton in a polo shirt, khaki slacks and golf shoes.

            “Antipasto.”

            “I knew it!” Heather screamed. “Your antipasto has done us in!”

            Linda looked pissed and embarrassed and looked around the table.

            “I followed the directions, to the letter.”

            “It wasn’t olive oil it was turpentine.” The Grim Reaper replied.

            “But- how would turpentine get into the kitchen?” Linda frantically asked though she already knew the answer.

            The Grim Reaper pointed at Bob, who shrugged. Richard threw his beer bottle at him and it bounced off Bob’s head. Bob went down; the couples looked at Richard who gave a bark of laughter.

            “We’re all dead anyway.”

            “Actually, that’s why I am here.” The Grim Reaper said “It seems we have a problem.”

            “A problem?” Sheila asked after the long pause had passed.

            “We cannot process you at this time there’s a backlog and the boss has decided that you cannot be taken at this time.” The Grim Reaper said.

            Everyone looked immensely relieved.

            “That’s good, because I am going to sue Richard for assaulting me with a beer bottle.” Bob said as he climbed back into his chair from the floor.

            “Not before I sue you for poisoning me.” Richard said with a snort of mirth- he was going for variety since barking laughter was getting old.

            Lou started to add her two bits but stopped as the Grim Reaper raised a pale finger. She was getting upset at not having an opportunity to chatter incessantly.

            “It’s not that simple. You are all already dead.”

            “Not me” Joe said looking at his hands. “I am fine, look.”

            “I am but you aren’t seeing what is really here, you are all still in denial.” The Grim Reaper said. Joe had a sudden glimpse of the room as it really was and saw the tangled bodies, some clawing at their throats, others clutching each other, Linda feet sticking out of the bathroom door. Barb had died screaming. Joe decided that denial was better than truth and went back to it quickly.

            “I think I see what you are saying.” Joe said blinking and relaxing as the denial took over. “What happens now?”

            “Reincarnation or Rejuvenation.”

            “What?” repeated Joe mirroring the other peoples shock and general confusion.

            “You need to choose whether you want to be rejuvenation or reincarnated.” The Grim Reaper replied evenly as he was used to such dimwitted responses in his line of business.

            “So you are saying we are dead, Bob and Linda’s antipasto has poisoned us, and the “boss”- at which point flicked his index and middle fingers in a quote movement- “has no room for us in heaven or hell.” Joe sat back rather smugly with himself; he was good at repeating and summing up peoples conversations in nice little phrases.

            “And now we have to choose whether we wanted to come back as something else or be rejuvenated or something.” Linda finished while giving a smug smile towards Joe for leaving out the decision part of the summary. Linda liked finishing for others- especially Joe since he was so very smug about his summarizing abilities.

            “Yes.” The reaper said grimly, while he counted his chips. “Where can I cash this in?”

            Richard gave his signature nervous laugh at that and looked around for support but found none as each of the people seemed to be lost in thought over what to decide.