Chapter 1: Shuffle Up and Deal
At thirty-six you take life for granted. Not like you did when you were eighteen and felt indestructible, believing you could do just about anything you dared to dream. No, in your mid-thirties you have the world in the palm of your hand and don’t even know it. For many of us, we have wives and children, who might seem like “the old ball and chain” from time to time, but they often give us the courage and strength we need to be the men we’re supposed to be.
Ask yourself how often you are trying to recapture the “magic” of eighteen. You go out with the “boys” and drink too much. You escape the responsibilities of life whenever you can and spend hours on end at the golf course or sports bar. Then, you go drop dollar bills in the G-string of a twenty-two-year old stripper who makes you feel like you were eighteen again, living life without a care in the world.
What happens to us between eighteen and thirty-six? Half our life is spent reaching for eighteen, living and acting one way, being told to chase our dreams. Then the world expects us to change and conform to its norms, giving up on dreams to become a responsible contributor to society. We spend those first eighteen years longing to be somebody; a rock star, or a major league baseball player, or a surgeon, only to wake up one morning between eighteen and thirty-six to find ourselves in a “job” that we really have no desire to be in. It puts food on the table, pays the mortgage, and with the few bucks you have left over each month, your kid can take karate lessons or play on a traveling soccer team.
The responsibility bug has you tied down with no time to fulfill the dreams you once held close to your heart, or even to find new dreams that will pour life into your soul. Then you see the guy without responsibility. The thirty-six year old “Peter Pan” who never got married, drives the Porche, lives in the penthouse bachelor pad and is dating the twenty-two year-old stripper in whose G-string you stuff dollar bills.
You think to yourself, hey, I’m only thirty-six, and in about ten years, as the kids go off to college, I’ll have time to chase my dreams again. If I just hold on a bit longer, I’ll have my chance. At thirty-six, you still believe you have time to turn it around, to take that dream buried deep in your soul and make it a reality. But then you turn around and see life passing you by without a care in the world for what you really want. Now, each passing day sets faster than the one before, and you find that saying, “I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow” turns into six months, and then a year, and then you look up and realize that you still haven’t taken a step towards your dream and only let time pass you by.
So there I sat, playing poker, at the same familiar table with three of the best friends I ever had. This was our tradition; get together and play poker just like we had for the last eighteen years. It was our pact coming out of high school, as we were all preparing to go our separate ways, to ensure that we always took the time to be together, even if it was just once in a while. After all, I don’t believe you have any closer friends in life than those with whom you come of age.
But on this night, I couldn’t help but gaze at the empty chair that stared me down from across the table. Up until four months ago, that chair was warmed each poker night by Nate Moore, my best friend in the entire world. On the eve of his funeral, I, Bill Rodgers, couldn’t help but wonder, why? Why did my best friend have to die? Why did he have to suffer so horribly through such an aggressive cancer and the barbaric treatments the medical profession used to try and save his life? Why will Nate’s wife and four children be left to live a life without the man who was the center of their world, the rock from which they gained so much strength? Is this really part of God’s plan? And if so, why does He allow us to suffer like this?
Nate wasn’t like most of us. He seemed to make all the right decisions. Was his life perfect? Not at all. But he lived his life better than most. We came of age together at a point in our lives when we barely had any cares in the world. We shared some of the most defining moments of our lives. Yet there we found ourselves, preparing to bury the man we knew as boys.
As I looked around the table, I saw Dan, Joe, and Tom; the remnants of our poker group. Overall, they were good guys, but none of them were men the way Nate was, and neither was I, for that matter. With all of our flaws and weaknesses, Nate’s death gave each of us a moment in time to pause and take measure of our lives. We asked questions like, who are we? Where have we been? Where are we going? What do I want to do with the rest of my life? Am I the man at thirty-six I thought I’d be when I was eighteen? And quite frankly, I don’t think any of us were really pleased with what we discovered.
* * *
Bill sat holding a pair of aces in the hole with another ace revealed on the flop. He held the best cards, yet like so often in his life, he was hesitant to make a move.
The bet moved to Dan, who held three threes – two underneath and the other on the table. Dan looked Bill square in the eyes and gave him a wily smirk. Dan Johnson was what modern American society would call a “winner.” He was an extremely handsome, smooth talking salesman who had never been married. Classic sports cars and long-legged model-types were the trophies he held dear. To the outside world, Dan was the image of success.
But Dan’s demons laid just beneath the surface, and it took everything he had to keep them at bay and prevent the rest of the world from seeing what he had learned to keep from sight.
“I’m in for five,” Dan said confidently.
Bill rarely beat Dan at anything. Poker. Golf. Monopoly. You name it and Dan had probably wiped the floor with Bill’s pride, even though Bill often held the better cards. He allowed Dan to bluff and beat him time and time again. Bill’s life was about not wanting to lose what he had. He tended to play it safe, never reaching too far for what might lie ahead. In the end, Bill ended up right where he started, no better or worse, just wishing he had once again taken a chance.
“I’m out,” said Joe Melendez, as he quietly folded his cards.
Coming out of high school, Joe was the guy going places. He was a second round draft pick of the New York Yankees and was on the fast track to the “House that Ruth Built.” That was, until the fast track lifestyle he was living finally caught up to him.
After a wild night of booze, Joe decided to hop on his motorcycle around 3:00 AM and see if he could take flight. Joe didn’t remember much about the crash. What he did remember was pain, a helicopter, and seeing a bright light.
After nearly losing his life and his right leg, Joe’s express ticket to the big leagues had been rescinded and his baseball career was over. The can’t miss kid, whose dream had been laid out for him by his father since he was five, had to learn to live life all over again, the life most of us live.
In typical fashion, Bill was more interested in the other players’ hands. He took a quick glance around the table to see if there was anything he could pick up from the movements and behaviors of the others.
“I’ll call,” said Tom McKinley, who was recently divorced. He was the father of a beautiful and precocious four-year-old little girl named Tabitha. His ex-wife, Tori, left him for her boss, believing he could provide her with more of the financial trappings she so desperately wanted in life. Tom’s shyness held him back throughout much of his life, and if not for Dan’s coattails, there’s no telling how far down the rungs of life’s ladder Tom might have resided.
The bet moved to Bill, who took a final review of the cards on the table: ace of diamonds, five of spades, three of clubs. He then looked up at Dan, trying to ascertain what his long-time friend and rival held. Even if Dan had the final ace and either a five or three, that’s only two pair. And if Dan had a two and four, his straight would have lost to three aces. If he bet aggressively, he could’ve gotten Dan and Tom to fold right there and steal the pot for himself. He could have limped in, baited the other two along a bit more, and have won an even bigger pot.
“I call,” Bill said hesitantly, trying to show he wasn’t totally committed to his cards.
Joe, who had dealt the hand, said, “The pot is right,” buried the top card and flipped the turn card to reveal a three of diamonds . A pair of threes was on the table.
Dan wasted very little time before pushing all of his chips into play as he confidently called, “All in.”
Bill looked and wondered, what is Dan doing? Is he bluffing? Does he have another three underneath? Maybe two more threes, which would give him four. And that would beat the full-house of aces and threes he’s now sitting on.
“I’m out,” Tom muttered as he tossed his cards on the discard pile. It was up to Bill. Does he go all in? Does he play it safe and fold?
Bill tried to get a read on Dan from his facial expression or body language, but in typical Dan style, he just gave Bill his patented smirk.
“What are you gonna do?” Dan asked. “We don’t have all night.”
Eying Dan’s slightly larger stack of chips, Bill asked, “How much is he all in for?”
Joe quickly counted Dan’s stack and replied, “$121.”
Bill took one more look at his hole cards and then counted his chips to find $108. With that, Bill took a deep breath and said, “All in.”
“Yes,” Dan exclaimed as he flipped over pocket threes to reveal four-of- a-kind.
“Un-fucking believable,” Bill said under his breath as he flipped his pocket aces and revealed his full house.
Joe and Tom cheered and moaned as they watch their friends run through the range of emotions.
“There’s still one more card, and if it’s an ace, then Bill wins,” Joe explained.
“Let’s see it,” said Dan.
“Got nothing else to lose. Come on ace. Come on baby,” Bill pleaded. Joe buried the top card and flipped the river card, revealing an eight of hearts.
“Whoo-hoo,” Dan yelled as he reached in to claim his winnings. “Fuck yeah! Who’s your daddy!”
“I lost on a full-house with three aces. Un-frickin’ believable,” Bill said as he shook his head.
“Wow! That’s just bad luck, man,” Joe said to Bill. “I tell you what, if you didn’t have bad luck, you wouldn’t have any luck at all.”
“On that note,” Bill said as he stood up from the table and downed the half-beer he had left, “I think it’s time for a break.”
“Let’s all take one. I could use a cigarette right about now,” Tom chimed in.
“To hell with the cigarette, I’ve got Cubans for us to enjoy,” Dan replied. “Very nice my friend. Where’d you get those bad boys?” Tom asked.
“I have a client who gets me a box from time to time. And with everything that has happened recently, I thought tonight was as good a time as any to light ‘em up.”
“Let’s take it out on the patio,” Joe suggested as he walked over to the bar. “Who needs a cocktail?”
“I do,” Bill replied, as did Dan and Tom. “Jack and Coke?” asked Joe.
“Make mine a double,” Dan said.
“Make ‘em all doubles,” added Bill. “God knows we can use it right now.”
“Great. Go outside and get the Cubans ready while I mix these up,” Joe responded.
Dan, Tom, and Bill walked through the patio door into the backyard and took a seat around the fire pit. Bill leaned over to turn on the gas and tossed a match into the pit, lighting an instant fire.
It was a warm August night in Southern California, and the sky that could be seen through the backyard trees was aglow with a full moon and blanket of stars. Off in the distance, you could hear the subtle sound of traffic and the occasional whistle blowing from a train.
As Dan pulled the Cuban cigars out of his bag, Joe came out and passed around the Jack and Cokes to everyone. As Joe sat down, Dan passed around the Cubans along with the cutter to slice off the tip.
Silence engulfed them as they lit the cigars and drank their cocktails. For eighteen years, they always knew what to talk about. That night, as they prepared to bury Nate, no one wanted to speak, for speaking would have made his death a reality and call into question their own mortality.
After a few moments, Tom quietly broke the silence, “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“This fuckin’ blows,” Dan blurted out. “Thirty-six years old and Nate gets fuckin’ cancer. Why the hell did it have to be him?”
“I keep hearing Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young” play over and over in my head,” said Bill. “Nate had it all. An amazing wife, four wonderful kids. What the hell are they going to do without him?”
“They’ll find a way. One way or another they’ll find a way,” replied Joe. “And they need to know that we are always there for them, to help, to do whatever they need.”
They all agreed.
“But I keep asking why Nate and not one of us? Or why didn’t it happen to the child molester rotting in prison, or the selfish son-of-a-bitch who abandons his wife and kids?” asked Bill. “What’s God’s purpose in all of this?”
“There is no purpose,” Dan responded. “That’s the cruel reality of life. We’re alone out here. God or no God, we are alone.”
“How can you say that?” asked Bill.
“Easy, I’ve been alone most of my life, and everything I have is because of me,” Dan answered. “The purpose in life is to get as much as you can from it before it decides to take you out. Nate had what he wanted in life and was happy. He made choices based on what he wanted in life. He wanted the wife, the kids, everything he had. And he appreciated that. But like I said, life has a way of taking you out, and if you haven’t lived, that’s too bad. Either way, God has nothing to do with it.”
“Nate was one of the best, most well-grounded people any of us have ever known. And he most definitely believed in God and His purpose. We can all be certain that tonight Nate is in a far better place that this,” said Bill.
“Amen, brother,” Joe and Tom chimed in.
Dan took a slow drink of his Jack and Coke and then a long pull on his Cuban. “Believe what you want, but as far as I’m concerned, when this life is over, that’s it. There ain’t no pearly gates and there sure as shit isn’t a St. Peter there to check you into your heavenly suite. It’s pure randomness that brought us here and pure randomness that takes us away. Some of us are lucky, others are not. Good, bad, or indifferent, it was pure randomness that gave Nate his cancer, and it will be pure randomness that takes all of us out some day.”
“Alright, enough of this bullshit. Let’s save the philosophical discussions for another day. Tonight we honor our fallen brother, Nate,” Joe said as he raised his glass. The others raised theirs as the fire illuminated each of them, revealing several eyes moist with tears. “He, by all accounts, was a better man than any of us could ever hope to be. To Nate!”
“To Nate,” they echoed, and lifted their glasses higher.
“As we were sitting in their playing cards, I kept expecting to see Nate show up. With every noise I heard, I expected him to come walking into the room with that big shit eating grin of his, ready to take all of our money,” said Tom.
“He did have a shit eating grin didn’t he,” Dan replied as they all shared a moment of laughter. “I’m going to miss the way he’d just smile at you when you were playing cards or basketball. You’d think he was oblivious to the world around him, then he’d just give you that look as he flopped over aces or drained a three. He just never seemed to worry about a whole hell of a lot.”
“The only time I ever saw life get to him was when he was first diagnosed and he told me about the cancer. He was totally shocked that it was happening to him. Melissa and the kids didn’t know yet, and he kept talking about how he didn’t want his kids to grow up without him. I promised him that no matter what happened, we would be there for him and his family, especially his kids. I propose a toast,” said Bill as he raised his glass. The others lifted their glasses in the air and looked at Bill. “To always being there for Nate’s kids and never letting them forget who their dad was or how much he loved them. Salud!”
“Salud!” the others cheered as they took another drink. But none of them could get their minds off of the funeral the following day, when what had seemed like a bad dream would become a cruel reality.
Read Chapter 2: The Calm Before the Storm
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