That's How It Goes Down Here Below - continued
Now, he just needs to find someone to play with. Apart from Desmond and Charlie, who seem to be minding their business, only Michael is around; but well, playing poker surely isn’t a declaration of friendship.
“Michael?”
He turns, actually startled. Well, he has never really been the one to start a conversation.
“Yeah? Want something?”
“How ‘bout a game of hold ‘em?”
--
They settle around the kitchen table, everyone has eaten by now; Sawyer deals and when Michael doesn’t notice that he cut from the bottom of the deck he starts to think that this isn’t ever going to be as fun as he hoped.
Damn, he doesn’t want to admit that Jack was the only one he met on that island who knew how to play poker for shit but whatever, he’ll get what he has.
Of course he wins the first two hands and gathers a nice pile of mangoes, though Michael still has his own and doesn’t seem too intent on backing out, when Sawyer hears Bernard’s voice behind him.
“I didn’t know there was a new casino in here.”
“Very funny, Norma Rae.”
And then he thinks, why not?
“You know what, why don’t you play?”
“What are you playing?”
“Hold ‘em. We only bet fruit though, you won’t lose your millions.”
“Well, it looks nice. Alright, count me in.”
“Good. Hoss, gimme the cards, I gotta mix it up again.”
He is ready to deal when...
“Hey, you’re playing poker and you don’t even tell?”
Sawyer looks up at Charlie with a questioning look.
“And since when do you play poker, John Entwistle?”
“I was a champion!”
“When?”
“Do you know how many games you play when you’re in some club and you need to wait for the soundcheck? Don’t underestimate me.”
“Well, if you really wanna play, suit yourself.”
Charlie takes a seat and Sawyer would deal, if he didn’t take notice of Desmond turning and leaving.
He doesn’t even know why he does it.
“Braveheart! You in a hurry?”
Desmond turns and comes back.
“Brother, it happens that I don’t think I remember how to play poker.”
“Ain’t a problem. It’s damn fucking easy. Bill Wyman, you think you two could play a hand together? Five is damn better than four.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem. But maybe we can play a hand showing the cards first? You know, I’m not really good at explaining that kind of thing.”
“Sure thing. Go take a seat. It’s fun, y’know?”
“It is, but we’re playing it normally.”, said Charlie.
“What? You don’t like hold ‘em?”
“In good old England we prefer it the old way.”
“Well, same for me.”
It is the same for everyone and so they go with the normal rules.
Desmond doesn’t look too convinced, but he sits next to Charlie. Michael goes to gather betting material and when they have an equal quantity of fruit and Dharma bars they play the hand showing cards, stopping every two seconds in order to explain to Desmond how the whole thing works. Sawyer’s main concern is that he could have more than a problem remembering the ranking of the cards, but he claims that he got it after the hand is over and Sawyer thinks that it’s better like this.
He deals fairly, the first time.
He takes a look at his cards. Two nines, two sevens and one eight.
Not bad.
“Alright. Chief, you changin’ cards?”
“Give me two.”
He hands Michael two cards, then turns to Bernard.
“You?”
“I’ll keep mine.”
“Danny Whitten?”
“Sawyer, that one really was bloody terrible. Give me three.”
“Three it is. For you?”
“I’ll have one, brother.”
“Here you are. Alright, I’ll have one, too.”
He changes his eight and hopes that his lips didn’t turn upward.
Another seven.
Good.
“Alright. I’m bettin’ two mangoes.”
“Good for me.”, said Michael taking two of his.
“I’d say four.”
“Rambo’s feeling quixotic? Alright, I hear it. Mike, you up for it?”
“Nope. You go on this one.”
“VH1?”
“Alright for the fours.”
“Robert Burns?”
“I’ll have it, brother.”
“Alright. So, are we calling?”
The other three nod and Sawyer lays his cards down.
“Full house. What you got there?”
Bernard smiles and lays down his hand. Four of a kind, sixs and one nine.
“Oh, bollocks.”
Charlie folds his cards shaking his head, while Desmond looks intently at his.
“What’s up there?”
“Uhm, brother, I think that...”
“Well, just lay those down.”
Desmond does and Bernard can’t help showing his disappointment.
“Woah, that’s beginner’s luck indeed. You got yourself a royal flush there!”, Sawyer says eyeing the sequence. Ace, king, queen, jack and ten of hearts.
“So what now?”
“Now... well, you get the mangoes.”
--
After a couple of rounds where both Bernard and Charlie gained four mangoes each, Sawyer decides that Michael doesn’t know shit about the fundamental rules of poker. He doesn’t play the way he could if he could see their cards and he definitely plays them differently from how he would if he could see their cards.
Or maybe he’s just a masochist, since Sawyer is good enough at seeing when someone bluffs and if Michael was bluffing, he’d make a poor job of it. He looks so sure of himself and of his good hand that he doesn’t hesitate on betting all of his remaining five mangoes and his Dharma bar.
Bernard and Charlie fold and Sawyer, since he only has a three of a kind of sevens and he guesses that Michael wouldn’t be so happy if he had a two pair, folds too.
Desmond doesn’t, though, and very slowly he nods and picks five mangoes and a Dharma bar, placing it over the table.
“Alright brother. I’d say let’s see the cards, yeah?”
“You bet.”
Michael lays down a neat straight flush, from Queen to eight of spades.
“Guess you’re toast.”
“I wouldn’t really say so.”
Desmond lays down another straight royal flush, of clubs this time. Sawyer can’t help feeling more than slightly surprised.
“Woah, beginner’s luck is saying nothin’!”
And I don’t think Bernard cheats, while dealing , he adds.
Michael has to resign and hand Desmond all of his fruit.
“Guess I’m out.”
“Next time it’ll go better.”, Sawyer says shrugging.
--
“And what are they doing?”
Juliet turns to Claire, Alex and Danielle, who have just joined her in watching what’s going on around the kitchen table.
“Playing poker I guess. I think Michael’s out.”
“And how is Bernard doing?”, asks Rose, joining the group.
“Fairly well. I think he won a hand. But Desmond seems the one winning the most, if I’m not wrong.”
“So he plays poker? I knew he was a lousy liar.”
“Who, Desmond?”
“No, Bernard. He always told me he couldn’t. Well, next time I’ll deal with him.”
“Rose, do you actually know how to play poker?”
Rose turns towards Claire and smiles slightly.
“Sure. I think I could beat each one of them at it.”
Claire guesses that it really shouldn’t be a surprise.
--
“Alright, Rockstar, gimme one card.”
“Served. Bernard?”
“Fine like this for me.”
“I’ll have two. Desmond?”
“Three.”
“Alright. Sawyer, what you’re doing?”
“I bet two mangoes.”
“Alright, I’m in.”, says Bernard picking two mangoes.
“I raise and say six mangoes and my Dharma bar.”
“Woah, Rockstar, you must be pretty sure.”
Charlie just smiles and Sawyer can smell bluff all the way.
“I’m out.”, says Bernard folding.
“I’m out with you, brother.”, Desmond echoes folding.
“I’ll meet your bet, midget. No, you know what, I’m bettin’ all of my fruit.”
“Fine.”, Charlie says, though Sawyer notices the slight shiver. Oh, bluffing all the way.
“So show me your cards.”
Charlie does; a two pair, two aces and two eights. Sawyer bursts up laughing as soon as he sees it.
“Hey, what’s so funny about my hand?”
“Oh shit, that was just called for. Anyway, you’re out.”
Sawyer throws his flush of hearts on the table and then keeps on laughing, without being able to stop. Michael, who had been watching the game even without playing, suddenly understands and joins Sawyer laughing hysterically. Charlie turns to Desmond, who shakes his head.
“What’s so bloody fun about it?”, he asks, grimacing.
Then Bernard starts chuckling.
“Will you damn explain me? At least...”
“Sure. Charlie... that hand... well, it’s the hand Wild Bill Hickok had on his last game the night they killed him. They call it dead man’s hand.”
Charlie pushes his fruit towards Sawyer and stands up with a scowl plastered all over his face.
“Oh, only you could get that hand.”
“Shut up, you bloody... oh, just take the fruit.”
Sawyer does and hands Desmond his cards for dealing. Oh, this is getting fun indeed.
--
When Bernard decides that he’s got enough fruit to grant him and Rose a tasty dinner for two that evening (and also Michael’s and Charlie’s Dharma bars, which Desmond lost betting against him at the last round) and leaves the table, a crowd has gathered around. Charlie goes from Desmond’s side to Sawyer looking at the cards, even if Michael prevents him from trying to suggest Desmond anything about Sawyer’s hand; everyone else stays more or less in one place. Rose says that at least the atmosphere is better than last time someone played poker in this place and Claire has to agree.
Desmond and Sawyer are more or less at the same point; a Dharma bar each, thirteen mangoes on Sawyer’s side and fifteen on Desmond’s.
“So, wanna go for the final round?”
“Aye, brother. Let’s do the final round. You dealin’?”
“Sure.”
He knows that if he tried to deal from the bottom of the deck no one would notice it; but he deals fairly this time. Damn, he’s really becoming too soft.
He deals and looks at his cards.
A pair of eights, one six, one ace, a king. The ace and one eight are spades, the rest are all different suits. Fuck, what a shitty hand.
“You changin’ something?”
“Two.”
“Same for me.”
He hands Desmond two cards and notices that for a second his face grimaces. He picks up his new cards, but instead of the king and the six he got a queen and a five. Nothing gained, nothing lost.
“One mango.”
“Meetin’ it. Call?”
“Call.”
Desmond has a pair of sevens and Sawyer takes the mango.
“Luck has started to turn on you, mate?”
Desmond looks at Charlie, shakes his head and takes the deck from Sawyer, shuffling the cards and then cutting it.
He deals Sawyer five cards and deals another five for himself.
Sawyer bites his lip and frowns. Another couple of nines, one queen, one five, one six. The queen, one nine and the six are all hearts. Maybe he can try a flush.
“Gimme two.”
Desmond nods and deals him the cards. He gets another nine of another suit and an ace of diamonds. Damn it. But then again, he could try the Doc’s trick for once.
Desmond takes one card only and his face doesn’t let out a single thing. Good, Sawyer thinks. He got the drill of it, alright.
“So, brother?”
“I’m bettin’ all of my stuff.”
“All?”
“Yeah, all.”, he says, absolutely relaxed. Charlie is at Desmond’s side and looks perplexed, but doesn’t give away a thing, especially to him.
“Well brother, that may be a bit of a stretch but alright. I’m meetin’ it. We call?”
“We call.”
Desmond lays down his cards, showing a full house of three sixes and two aces. Sawyer lays his cards down with the face down.
“You win.”, he admits.
“Son, do I have to remember you what happened last time you tried it?”
“No, Rose, you don’t. I guess it’s the last time I’m tryin’ with bluffing. Well, seems like you’ve won it, brother . Enjoy the mangoes.”
Desmond raises an eyebrow at him, but then Charlie’s all over him patting his back with way too much enthusiasm.
“Go mate, I knew you were going to make him bite it!”
Michael isn’t as enthusiastic but Sawyer guesses that Desmond can understand why. After all the hype is over and Desmond goes to collect his winnings he comes back to the table and extends a hand.
“That was a good game. Next time I’m beatin’ your sorry ass at it, though.”
Desmond smirks and shakes it.
“Whenever you want, brother. Though I really don’t know what should I do with all this fruit here. Sure I’m not eatin’ it all.”
Sawyer has to agree at it.
“Well, save it. Meanwhile you can always enjoy your Dharma chocolate.”
--
“Sawyer?”
He stops going through a couple of bags that Alex and Danielle had brought from the Barracks; they said that Locke sent them there because there was stuff that was going to be more useful at the beach than there and so he had decided to spend the late part of the afternoon sorting them. It still wasn’t evening, even if the sun was setting; too dark to read inside the tent but not enough not to see outside. And it wasn’t even that hot, so it was a good time.
He turns towards Charlie and stands up.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a couple of things?”
“Sure.”
“Did you cheat today?”
“Only with Mike at the beginning. And no, I didn’t give Desmond all the good cards on purpose. That way of cheatin’ is much beyond me.”
“At least. The other thing was... when it was still the five of us playing, didn’t you feel... observed?”
“Observed?”
“Yeah. Like someone was... watching us?”
“Sid, everyone at camp was watchin’ us. And when you play poker, it’s kinda normal to feel watched.”
“No, not the ones at camp. Like... someone else was watching us and knew we were here?”
Sawyer shakes his head at once. He didn’t feel anything remotely close to it.
“Negative. I think you’ve been thinkin’ too much.”
Charlie nods, not too convinced.
“Guess I just imagined it. Hey, another thing.”
“Yeah?”
“You know that Alex brought me that guitar from the Barracks the other day?”
“Sure. What’s with it?”
“Well, I thought tonight at dinner I could, you know, play something?”, he says, staring down at his shoes. Sawyer thinks that it can’t be that bad of an idea. Maybe they’d all benefit.
“Sounds good. As long as you don’t sing your songs.”
Charlie suddenly raises his head, looking at him with a much less friendlier stare than he usually does.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that You All Everybody is shit. The one about the pilot and the smoke monster was fairly better.”
“You remember that?”
“Hell, after you tried it all day in the tent next to mine I could’ve written it myself.”
Charlie just shakes his head and leaves; Sawyer can’t help noticing that he didn’t object to his judgment of You All Everybody .
“Oh, Sawyer! If you like the one about the pilot, you can always sing it!”
He disappears before Sawyer can tell him to fuck off, but Sawyer guesses that it’s fine like this. He kneels again, looking inside the bag. It’s mostly clothes; he figures that they just divided them from the rest. He almost decides on doing it all the next day when a shirt catches his attention.
He takes it out and can’t help laughing softly.
“You ain’t ever gonna leave me alone, are you?”, he murmurs, looking at the shirt Jack had on when they had played the infamous other poker game.
How could it happen to finish in some wardrobe at the Barracks, he doesn’t know, but it’s a hell of a coincidence. He folds it carefully, then closes the bag, picks it up along with the other one and goes back to his tent.
On the way, he raises a hand in the direction of Juliet, Rose, Claire, Danielle and Alex, who are gathered around a fire on the beach. He’s going to put the bags in one corner in his tent; the shirt, he’s going to keep it to shove it in the doc’s face if and when he sees him again. Though he has an idea that he will.
No one has found Jack’s, Kate’s, Hurley’s, Sun’s, Jin’s, Sayid’s and Aaron’s bodies; the copter is gone. He knows they managed to leave and he’s damn glad that they did, since it means that they have to be alive. One day they’ll see each other again, he guesses. For now, he just shakes his head when, approaching his tent, he starts distinguishing Desmond and Daniel’s conversation. Those two can only talk about constants and physics shit and he’s getting damn tired of it. Alright, that’s a It’s a Wonderful Life, but Sawyer could really use some change in subject.
He glances at Charlie’s tent; he can hear him tuning the guitar. Then he steps into the tent; the conversation between those two stops and he places the bag in a free corner and the shirt between his own. Then he looks at Desmond before and at Daniel after, then smiles just slightly and heads out to the beach. Before going, though, he turns towards the Almighty Constant Team Whose Name Starts With The Letter D.
“You two, the rockstar has decided to play this evenin’. Are you up for Craphole Island’s very own Woodstock?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer and he gets out. He knows they are.
End.