And So This is Christmas Options

[Guest_Ishmael_*]

Tom sat sunk in his armchair and picked at a dry patch of skin over his left eyebrow. He watched the second hand on the clock jerk its way around once, then twice, and then he glanced towards the window where the living room was reflected thinly in the black glass. A sliver of moon was lodged in the pale peach wallpaper just above his head. He looked back at the clock but it was still too early to leave. The noise coming from the kitchen seemed careless and unnecessarily loud in the stern hush that lay on the house and each crash of crockery on sink lent its violence to the silence that followed.
Tom glanced at the clock again and then eased himself up out of the armchair and quietly picked up his car keys from the coffee table. He edged towards the kitchen and peered around the door. Chloe stood at the sink with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her face was in profile and a tiny bead of sweat clung quivering to the end of her nose. Or maybe it was dishwater. She had the kitchen window open but the air was thick and not even the army of incessant cicadas could stir a breeze. He felt as though he should say something before he left but they hadn’t spoken since dinner and he didn’t trust his voice not to crack from lack of use. As he tried to quietly clear his throat, something got caught in his windpipe and he went into a violent coughing fit that tore at his chest and left him leaning with one hand against the doorframe trying to recover his breath. At the first spluttering sounds Chloe turned from the sink and stood watching his convulsions impassively. Her forearms, covered in suds, dripped water on the lino. Tom slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. When he’d first met her she’d had such fine features that her face was like tracing paper, each subtle shift revealing the movements of the soul that simmered beneath. But this far west the sun was brutal and as it slowly loosened her skin, her face began to hang from her bones as if it were too heavy for the delicate scaffolding of beauty. Still, her eyes were big and darkly pretty, especially when she was angry, and as he met her gaze he felt the beginnings of a smile. Her eyes narrowed and the smile slid off his face.

Tom shut the front door and sucked in a deep breath. His nostrils filled with dust. He swore. It was like trying to breathe through a horse blanket. He climbed into his truck, rolled down the windows and lit a cigarette. As he reversed out of the driveway his headlights lit up the neighbours’ manicured rock garden. The yard was filled with a tranquil sea of white pebbles, every one the size and shape of a robin’s egg. The yard and the house it was attached to belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Niigata who ran the corner store. No matter what time of the morning or evening a person might wander in, Mrs. Niigata would be perched on her stool behind the counter and her husband would be standing silently by the door to the back room.
The gears crunched as the truck lurched past the rock garden and then past the car park of the abandoned supermarket next door. The half-acre of asphalt was empty but for a single shopping trolley lying on its side. Even though the town was spread out in a methodical grid pattern like one of the great metropolises of North America, the buildings themselves were in no sort of order. Residential and commercial merged so that the battered Mitre 10 sat between two houses and the primary school had a pub for a neighbour. It was as though the town’s outlines had been sketched with great care by an architect, who had then moved on to another, more lucrative, project and left the plans lying around for a child to scribble on. Tom slowed as he got to the stop sign at the end of his street. As he was pulling out onto the main road he saw a furtive movement out of the corner of his eye and he glanced over but nobody was there. The truck sat idling in the street as he peered into the darkness. He was about to drive on when a bleating sound drew his gaze towards the scrap heap piled in Cheeky Robinson’s front yard and there behind the high metal fence, amongst the rusty skeletons of old Holdens, stood a goat, chewing slowly and watching the truck with uncurious eyes. Tom chuckled and turned onto the main road, heading for Jimmy’s house just past the edge of town. The warm air rumbled in the truck’s windows as he picked up speed and the town fled into his rear vision mirror. The land was flat and the roads were straight but as he turned down Jimmy’s dirt road the town’s few lights disappeared, buried by a patch of trees or a slight rise in the earth or some other shapeless thing in the darkness. With the lights gone the stars were as bright as anywhere else on earth.

A Christmas beetle patiently made its way across the broad white desert. Its clawed feet slid a little as they struggled for purchase on the smooth surface but still it moved forward steadily. A strange light was shining overhead and it had been hot and hard and then there was the fall and then the desert. The beetle’s left wing was sticking out from under the shell and it hurt. Ahead there rose a great wall. The beetle headed for the wall and its progress was slow but in time it reached the base and began to haul itself up the rough surface heading towards the light. Part way up the wall its back right claw got stuck in a crack. It tugged but the claw wouldn’t shift. It stayed there, clinging to the wall, for some time but eventually it grew tired and fell from the wall back to the desert leaving its back right leg wedged in the crack and sticking out like a pole without a flag. The beetle landed on its back and waved its remaining legs while the strange light burned overhead. Jimmy flicked the beetle from the kitchen bench and took Lady by the collar. He led her into the laundry and she followed without protest, then he closed the double folding doors and put a coat-hanger over the handles. The doors tried to open and a snout appeared at the gap, whimpering.
“Quiet now Lady,” said Jimmy and she was quiet, though he could still hear the occasional thump of her tail on the floor. The air conditioner hummed and growled in the wall. The one main room of the house had been cleared and tidied so now all that stood there was the folded up sofa where Jimmy slept, a bookshelf holding a few old photographs and an old Bible and the dining table. The table was bare except for a battered pack of playing cards with semi-nude 1940’s pin-ups on the back. A cough came from the house’s one bedroom and Jimmy looked over at the closed door but there were no more stirrings on the other side. There was the sound of an engine outside, the kitchen was flooded with light and then a car door slammed. Jimmy went to the front door and looked through the fly screen. Tom was coming up the drive, flicking a cigarette butt into the bushes and grinning.
“Jimmy,” he said. “Get us a beer would you? The Missus put me through the griller before I left. Reckon I’d sell me mother for a drink about now.”
They went into the kitchen and Jimmy took two beers from the fridge. He opened them on the bench, sending the bottle tops flying across the floor, and handed one to Tom.
“So what happened mate?” he asked, and leaned forward on the counter eagerly.
Tom took a long drink.
“Aw, we had a bit of a row. I told her I was heading over here and she had a big old go. She’ll be right in the morning. Think it’s just the heat getting to her. No big deal.” A beetle cracked against the kitchen window. Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
“What’d she have a go for? It’s just a bit of poker.”
Tom studied his beer. “Aw, it’s nothing really. She just…” He paused as the kitchen was again flooded with light. “That’ll be Craig, won’t it?” he said and went to the front door. Jimmy watched him for a moment then peered out the window.
“Oh, by the way,” said Jimmy, “I forgot to tell you. Craig’s bringing his cousin along tonight. He’s visiting from somewhere down south and it’s always good to have another player or two so I said it was fine.”
Tom nodded and took his beer over to the table in the living room. Jimmy glanced at the bedroom door again and then pulled up a chair while Tom thumbed through the cards, looking at the pictures on the back. The screen door banged open and Jimmy looked up to see Craig ducking as he came inside. An old flannelette shirt strained against his shoulders. He straightened up and stroked his orange beard philosophically as he looked around the small room, then he broke into a grin.
“Jimmy, where’s me favourite mutt?”
Jimmy grinned back. “She’s locked up tonight. Wouldn’t want her to break your concentration. You’re going to need it if you don’t want to lose that ratty shirt off your back.”
Craig leaned back and let out a barking laugh, his beard bobbing up and down. “You better watch yourself little Jim. I know you think you’re pretty clever but Jared tells me he’s something of a card shark.”
“Well, if he’s got any of your genes then I wouldn’t be too worried. You’re easier to read than a Dr. Seuss book.”
Craig laughed again, then turned towards the door.
“Jared!” he called. “What are you waiting for? A written invitation?” He wandered into the kitchen, muttering, and took a beer from the fridge, then looked around for some way of opening it. Jimmy watched him quietly from his seat at the table. Eventually Craig spotted the bookshelf and positioning the bottle carefully against a shelf, brought his big meaty hand down on the top. The bottle cap went flying across the living room as, with a crash, the shelf collapsed and several photos in frames clattered to the floor. Craig stood with his mouth open for a moment then slowly looked over at Jimmy. Jimmy’s face was set in a scowl as he rose from his chair and went and picked up the fallen photos, looking them over carefully. Tom sat at the table, glancing back and forth between them. Several seconds passed in silence, then Jimmy looked up at Craig and slowly a grin spread beneath the orange bristles. Jimmy struggled for a moment then looked at the bookshelf and started chuckling. Craig quickly joined in and soon all three of them were roaring with laughter, the cheerful sound echoing out into the empty night. Jimmy was still in the middle of an impromptu impression of Craig’s reaction to the disaster, standing with his mouth open and shaking his head back and forth like a man witnessing his house slowly going up in flames, when a thin figure came through the door unnoticed. Craig grabbed Jimmy in a headlock and started marching him around the room, then suddenly caught sight of the newcomer.
“Ah, here his,” he said, letting go of Jimmy, who stood up smiling and gasping for breath. “Jimmy, Tom, this is Jared, me little cousin.”
Jimmy looked over at the new face. He was younger than the others there by several years and there was a steady flush in his pale cheeks as though he was in a permanent state of excitement or embarrassment, belied by the calm manner in which he stood in the doorway, nodding politely to Tom and Jimmy.
“Get yourself a beer and we’ll get started,” said Craig. Jared headed over to the kitchen as the other three took up seats at the table. Craig picked up the cards and had a look through the pictures.
“Fuck me Jim, we really need to find you a woman. Might need to get you out in the sun a bit first so you can lose that nocturnal look.”
“Oh, that’s right,” quipped Jimmy, grinning. “I hear you’ve picked yourself out a tidy one from some catalogue. When’s she being delivered?”
Craig shuffled the cards, unperturbed. “I’m picking her up next week as a matter of fact. And I’ll have you know she’s not out of any catalogue. See this here?”
He rolled up his sleeve and showed a tattoo of a young Asian woman on the inside of his forearm. “That’s her. Her brother did it for me in the Philippines. He’s been doing my tatts for years and he introduced us. She’s a looker ain’t she? I tell you what though, she might look like a delicate little flower but she’s hard as nails. That’s one thing I learned boyo. Never fuck around on an Asian bird. Take my word for it.”
Jared took his seat opposite Tom, with Jimmy on this right and Craig on his left and his back to the bedroom door. Craig pulled out a roll of notes from his pocket and placed them proudly on the table, then added a handful of gold coins. Jimmy studied the bundle, trying to work out how much was there. Craig saw him looking and grinned.
“Get your beady eyes of my money,” he said. “You won’t be seeing a cent of it tonight. I’ve got your game sussed now Jim.”
Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “You said you had it sussed last week. How’d that work out for you?”
Craig laughed and then there were a series of coughs from the bedroom and a few muttered words. The table went quiet and Jared looked around and frowned. Jimmy glanced at the bedroom door then took a long drink from his beer, watching Jared quietly.
Tom cleared his throat and picked up the cards, shuffling them with a practiced hand.
“Gentlemen,” he announced. “The game’s Texas Hold ‘Em. Minimum buy-in is two hundred dollars and you can top up any time for as much as you want. Blinds are one dollar and two dollars. No straddling for the first hour. Any questions?” They all shook their heads. Jimmy, Tom and Jared dug wads of cash from their pockets. Tom dealt the first hand and they all peered at their cards then left them face down on the table as Craig put a two dollar coin in the middle. Tom peered at his cards again then added his own coin to the pot.
“Oh, by the way,” he said. “If you flop a full house you have to scull your beer.”
Jimmy chuckled and threw his cards away.

The game began quietly as money was shifted back and forth across the table in modest amounts. Craig sat hunched over his cards, his mouth moving silently under his beard as he struggled with his calculations. Jared played a couple of hands but folded without much fuss whenever Tom or Jimmy made a strong play. A small collection of bottles grew on the kitchen bench. After half an hour or so Craig’s eyes suddenly lit up as the flop came out with an ace, a jack and a nine. Jimmy looked down quietly at the two nines in his hand. Jared checked and then Craig quickly picked up a five dollar note and slapped it down in the middle of the table. Tom frowned at his cards and threw them away then got up from the table and went to fetch another beer. Jimmy looked over at Craig, assembling his features into a puzzled expression. Craig grinned. Jimmy toyed with his bundle of cash for a few moments then slowly put his five dollars into the pot. Jared folded quickly and Jimmy dealt the next card. It came the two of spades. Craig checked his cards again then glanced up at Jimmy. His mouth was working under his beard as he fumbled for another five dollar note. Tom sat back down, lighting up a cigarette, and Jimmy peered at his cards again.
“You hiding an ace over there Craig?” he asked, smiling. Craig started to whistle and Jimmy smiled wider. He peeled off a five dollar note and then another and added them to the steadily growing pile. Still whistling, Craig matched his raise and Jimmy dealt the final card, the ten of hearts. He carefully put the deck back on the table and took a sip of his beer. Craig glanced at the cards on the table and his left leg started jigging up and down. He stroked his beard then quickly grabbed a twenty dollar note and slapped it down, looking over at Jimmy. Jimmy paused for a moment, studying the board. The ace, jack and ten glared back at him, whispering of kings and queens. He cleared his throat.
“Alright, show us what you’ve got,” he said, adding his own twenty dollars to the pile. Craig quickly flipped over his cards. An ace and a two.
“Two pair,” he announced, then looked at Jimmy nervously.
Jimmy smiled as he turned over his own cards. “Trip nines,” he said and watched as Craig’s face fell.
Tom whistled. “Not a bad pot there.” He gave Craig a clap on the shoulder. “Hard luck there mate.”
“Thought I had him there for sure,” said Craig, shaking his beard slowly. He looked over at Jimmy and grinned. “You really reeled me in on that one you sneaky bastard.”
Jimmy just smiled and scooped up the pile of money, glancing at Jared who sat quietly in his chair looking slightly bored.

The game went on and Craig won a couple of smallish hands, his mood beginning to pick up as he drank to his own success. He slapped the table with his hairy hands and boasted happily about his blossoming poker skills and his good humour quickly infected the table. Beneath the noise Jimmy was conscious of occasional coughs and mutterings coming from the bedroom but he was pretty sure nobody else noticed. The air conditioner struggled bravely against the heat but there was no front door apart from the fly screen and the room filled up with heavy summer air and smoke.
Tom dealt the next hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and Jimmy looked down at a pair of aces. He quickly set them face down on the table and watched as Craig and Tom both folded. He thought for a moment then called the dollar for the blinds and looked at Jared, who quietly checked. The flop came out the six and seven of hearts and the ten of clubs and Jimmy reached for his bundle of notes. Watching Jared out of the corner of his eye, he threw a five dollar note in the middle. Jared slowly peeled off a five of his own and Tom dealt the next card, the nine of hearts. Jimmy checked his cards again and saw that both his aces were black. He took a five and a ten and slid them into the middle of the table. Jared took a sip of beer and checked his own cards and then he counted out two twenty dollar notes.
“I raise,” he said lazily and settled back in his chair.
Jimmy looked down at the board. He knew he should have raised before the flop and cursed himself for letting Jared see cheap cards.
“Hey, check out the high roller over here,” said Tom, grinning. He turned to Craig. “Jimmy doesn’t mess around and I reckon your cousin might be about to find out the hard way.”
Jared just smiled a tight smile as Craig chuckled. “I don’t know about that Tommy. Jared’s a pretty sneaky bastard himself.”
The table went quiet and Jimmy stared at the board. There was another cough from the bedroom and Jared looked over at the bedroom door, frowning. Quickly making up his mind, Jimmy snatched some notes and called the raise.
“Here we go,” said Tom and dealt the final card. It was the ace of hearts. Jimmy sat like a statue with his chin on his hands. After a few tense moments he checked. Jared, who had been slumped in his chair, sat back up and started counting out notes. He laid three twenty dollar notes on the table and slid them into the middle without a word. Jimmy felt his shoulders slump. With a grimace he threw his aces away.
Craig thumped the table. “C’mon, Jared. Show us what you’ve got. I bet you bluffed him out didn’t you, you sneaky bastard?”
Jared just smiled and shrugged but Craig was having none of it. “You’ve got to show now mate. C’mon, put poor Jimmy out of his misery.”
Jared looked at Jimmy then shrugged again and flipped over his cards, showing the four and five of clubs. Jimmy grit his teeth as Craig roared with laughter and Tom grinned widely.
“What’d you throw away Jim?” asked Craig, leaning on the table expectantly.
Jimmy tried to smile but it faltered. “Oh, nothing much,” he said. “Low pockets.”
Craig grinned. “You still had him beat though didn’t you? I told you boys little Jared was a shark.”
Jared quietly gathered up his winnings as Jimmy sat silently stewing. He glanced down at his now significantly lighter bundle of notes and winced inwardly. A Christmas beetle landed on the table and he swatted at it, knocking it to the floor before it could take off.
“Fucking things are everywhere,” he said and went into the kitchen to get another beer.

Chloe stood at the kitchen window, chewing her bottom lip and watching a cloud of moths flutter about outside, confused by the light. She held a cloth in her hand and was slowly wiping the same spot over and over. The clock ticked away in the living room and she could just hear it over the drone of cicadas that underlined the otherwise quiet night. She looked over at the empty driveway and sighed. Three black children rode down the street on their pushbikes, each holding the handlebars with one hand, leaving the other to dangle lazily by their side. The youngest couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old. She checked her watch. It was twenty-three minutes past ten. With a sigh she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, convincing herself for a moment she was back in Brisbane and fully cocooned within the general hum of humanity. She’d tried to tell him but he was stubborn and she had struggled to put into words what she was trying to say. It was a feeling and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it came from but it was there nonetheless. Of course he’d defend his friend and she loved him for that and she always found herself floundering as she fought between that love and her indistinct but growing certainty. A Christmas beetle cracked against the window and she opened her eyes. The children had disappeared up the street and the town was as good as empty.

The supply of beer in the fridge was running low. The kitchen bench was almost completely covered by empty bottles now and the hum at the table was punctuated regularly by loud bursts. Jimmy was the only one who was quiet. He stared at his cards intently and threw them away in disgust. Jared was grinning as Craig stood up and gave a graphic visual account of his latest encounter with old Cheeky Robinson’s daughter. Suddenly, there was a loud thump from the bedroom and the table grew quiet. Jared looked over at the bedroom door again, swaying in his seat a little from the drink.
“Hey Jimmy, just what the fuck is going on in there?” he asked.
Jimmy picked up the cards and started shuffling. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just my old man.”
There was another loud thump and then a garbled stream of swear words. Jared swung back around in his seat. “You sure he’s OK in there? He’s been muttering to himself for ages. He lost his marbles or something?”
Tom and Craig silently studied the table as Jimmy bristled. “He’s fine. Now can we play some fucking cards?” He finished shuffling the deck and dealt the hand. Tom called the blinds and then Jimmy looked down at the ace and king of diamonds.
“I raise,” he said and threw a handful of notes into the middle.
“I call,” said Jared.
Craig folded and then Tom called and then Jimmy dealt the first three cards, the queen of diamonds, the ten of diamonds and the queen of spades. Jared checked and then Tom slid a twenty dollar bill across the table, grinning.
“I call,” said Jimmy quickly. Jared threw his twenty in and Jimmy dealt the fourth card, the three of diamonds. Jared peeled off a fifty dollar note, waving it proudly, then slapped it down on the table.
Tom sighed and threw his cards away. “Christ, what a night,” he said. “The cards just won’t come.” He stood up, stretching, and tottered back a step. “I think that’ll just about do me anyway; can’t be driving home totally legless. The Missus would have my balls for earrings. She never wanted me to come out in the first place.” He looked down at Jimmy and grinned. “I think she reckons you’re a bit of bad news mate. I told her you’re good as gold but you know women.”
Jimmy wasn’t listening. He counted up the money he had left and came to one hundred and twenty-seven dollars. He looked at Jared, but he was still listening to the sounds coming from the bedroom and wasn’t paying attention.
“I’m all in,” said Jimmy. “There’s your fifty, and another seventy-seven on top.” He tossed the bundle in the middle and stood up, resting his hands on the back of his chair.
Jared frowned and looked at his cards, then his face brightened. “Alright,” he said. “I call.” Jimmy flipped over his cards triumphantly.
“Ace high flush,” he announced and stood looking down at Jared, a sneer spreading across his face as the younger man swayed in his chair. Jared turned over his own cards.
“Full house,” he said. “And I flopped it too, so I guess I have to scull.” He tipped his head back and quickly drained his beer. Jimmy sat down heavily in his chair. Craig had Jared in a gentle headlock and was ruffling his hair, shouting “That’s my boy.” Tom put a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder but Jimmy knocked it away angrily. He put his head in his hands, muttering venomously.
Jared leaned over to Craig. “They breed ‘em strange up here don’t they?” he said. “Always talking to themselves like crazy fuckers.”
Jimmy looked up and his eyes were red and wild. “I told you before, you smug bastard,” he shouted. “He’s not crazy. You’ve been playing like a fucking donkey all night. C’mon, I’m buying back in. A few lucky cards don’t mean shit.”
“Jimmy, mate,” said Tom. “It’s getting late. C’mon, we’ll pick it up next time.”
“Fuck next time,” said Jimmy. “Don’t be a soft cock Tom. It’s not that late. Someone deal the cards. I’m buying back in.”
“Nah, Jim,” said Craig. “I’m just about done as well. You’ll earn it back off me and Tom next week.”
Jared got up and wandered over to the bedroom door, pressing his ear up against it. His face took on a look of intense concentration and then he grinned. “I think he’s singing to himself,” he said, overjoyed at the discovery. He knocked on the door then pressed his ear up against it again.
Jimmy leapt across the table, his eyes intent on the laughing face pressed up to the bedroom door. He felt somebody trying to hold him back and the face before him was swaying and flushed. There was shouting but Jimmy didn’t know where it was coming from. He swung his arms around, trying to get free of whoever was holding him back. He felt his right elbow connect with something hard and there was a crack followed by a muffled cry. The bedroom door burst open and an old man appeared dressed in nothing but a woman’s pale pink nightie that fluttered around his bony knees. His fingers trembled as he clutched the doorframe to keep himself upright. He opened and closed his ancient mouth a few times, staring at the kitchen floor. Jimmy was breathing heavily and his elbow hurt. Craig and Jared were staring in horror at the kitchen floor and he turned and saw Tom lying there, not moving, and there was something red on the corner of the kitchen bench.

Chloe woke and the bed was empty. It hadn’t been slept in. She sighed and wandered into the living room. Tom often slept in his armchair when he came in late so he wouldn’t disturb here. The living room was empty. Still dressed in her nightie, Chloe hurried outside to check if his truck was in the driveway. It wasn’t. She ran into the middle of the street, looking up and down for any sign of the truck. It was still early but the sun was already more than warm and it promised a sullen heat to come. Thin red dust curled slowly down the main road like blood trickling from a wound underwater. In the park at the end of the street a young man was kicking a football alone. He kicked it from one end of the park to the other, waited until it had come to rest, then trudged after it and kicked it back. A lone black child on a push-bike swerved in lazy circles in the supermarket car park. The air was heavy with the threat of summer rain but the sky was clear for miles around.