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Copa Cabaña
Dorothy Krusky
“Wha-a-a-a-t? Why are y’all lookin’ at me? He looked around the poker table. The group of burly men stared at him.
“I gotta full straight here,” he bellowed.
His bony fingers wrapped around the winning cards. He thrust them under Jacko’s pudgy nose. The man did not stir. Only his shady, blue eyes shifted in Willie’s direction. Fred followed his eyes to the mean, tough gambler who was the talk of the town. He gulped. It was said many a man had fallen victim into Willie’s hands. He’d heard about men leavin’ this here smoke filled, dimly lit, back room with limbs not workin’ too well. Just last week that slimy Percy was seen hobbling about town with crutches. He probably deserved it. The man was a born cheater and not just with cards either! Fred could never understand why any woman would be attracted to the likes of that man.
Suddenly, Willie heaved his mattress sized belly up over the rickety card table. His chair made cracking noises, enough to worry any man the chair was about to give way. But not Willie, he leaned forward smoke swirling from his cigar. He squinted at Fred’s cards, hiding his inability to read.
“Hmmm….I’d say this is a right cheatin’ hand ya got thar,” he rumbled.
“H-how can that be?” Fred was gettin’ worried. “I played an honest hand right through ‘til the end. I heard what you do to cheaters” he spit out, ‘you think I’m gonna risk getting’ me legs broke now?”
“Maybe ya do,” sneered Willie, as he tried to swipe Fred’s cards. Jacko sat quietly, listening to the men’s exchange. There was a lot of money on the table tonight and he wanted to walk away with the pot! How that young punk won he just didn’t understand. He shouldn’t have a full house! Both he and Willie made sure they used marked cards. No one cheats on the cheaters he fumed. Who told that bean pole of a kid that tonight was poker night?
Silence filled the room as the back door of the bar was opened. A rush of drunken voices gave way as the voluptuous, blonde haired waitress entered. In her skimpy black shorts and high heels she slinked toward the table of men.
“Hi gentlemen, how’s the game going? The boss asked me to drop in to see if any of ya needed a little refreshment.” The men looked at her with an icy stare, not saying a word.
“Oh…I guess ya’ll is doin’ right fine,” she said a little too loudly. She retreated to the door, she knew that look. Awww….that poor young fella is in for big trouble. She glanced at the huge stake on the table. Quietly she slipped out of the room.
"Blondie, git on over and serve the customers will ya,” Stan shouted, spit flying everywhere.
If only she thought……Could she?
Yes, that young fella and her talked many a time ‘bout escaping’ this dump. She held up her head.
“Boss, Jacko wants the lock box, asked me to fetch it, you know, fer all the winnin’s. She gave Stan a wink and smiled at him the way he liked.
“Ohhh….ok Sugar, sorry’s ‘bout the screamin’ at ya. It’s been right busy. The place is crawlin’ with people tonight. How ‘bout we get together fer a night cap,” he asked with a disgusting hunger in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure Stan, whatever, I gotta get this box to the boys.”
Marci quickly scooted from behind the bar, the stench overpowering her rational senses. She controlled her nerves, took a deep breath and walked through the back door once again. While carrying the metal box she hummed the tune Copa Cabaña. Irritated the men looked up at the intruder.
“What now” Jacko demanded in frustration.
“The boss wanted me to give ya the lock box," she said defiantly strolling toward him. She glanced over at Fred and gave a small wink. He returned it with a slight nod. As Willie and Jacko were piling the winnings into the box Marci opened the door to the parking lot.Suddenly she started to scream, “Hey you! Get away from there. Willie, Jacko come quick! Your van, it looks like Percy is taking a baseball bat to it! The two men jumped up knocking over their chairs and raced passed Marci, screaming obscenities. Fred looked up at Marci and in unison they shouted, “Copa Cabaña!”…………
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