The Gambler: 969 words

The Gambler

“Mr. Alvarez?” Charlie knocked on the door again, harder this time, “Mr. Alvarez!”

“Yes, yes yes, what is it?”  Rivera Alvarez opened the door wearing thermal underwear and a New York Giants sweatshirt, “what do you want, Charlie?  No more excuses, no more begging, no more nothing.  Ok?”

“Here’s your rent.”  Charlie handed Alvarez a check for $400.

“Where’d you get this?  I don’t want stolen money, boy?  Did you steal this money?  Here, take it back, I don’t want it.”  Alvarez held the check out, wrinkling his brow as if he couldn’t stand the smell of it.

“I didn’t steal anything.  It was a gift,” Charlie said pushing Alvarez’s outstretched arm back towards his chest.

“A gift?”  Alvarez burst into laughter, “who is giving you a gift like this, boy?  You don’t have anyone giving you a gift like this.  No one around here does!”

Alvarez was right but Charlie wasn’t lying.  He didn’t know who had sent him the check but he knew that it was made out to him.  “I have an aunt, Mr. Alvarez.  I haven’t seen her in a long time; in fact, I didn’t even know she was alive.  But she’s rich, and she tracked me down, and she sent me this check for missing out on my life.”

Alvarez wasn’t convinced but his interest was growing.  Most of his tenants were living paycheck to paycheck and rent was never guaranteed.  He’d evicted four tenants in three months and if this boy really had a wealthy relative backing him, it could mean more stability in his bank account.  “Oh yeah, Charlie?  How much she send you?  Maybe you should pay a few months rent in advance, then you don’t have to worry about it.”

Charlie ignored the suggestion, “there’s your rent.  Don’t hassle me about money any more, ok?  I’m good for it.  Enjoy the holidays.”  Charlie walked away and Alvarez called after him from the door, “you better be good for it, boy!  I know you stole this money!”  Further in the distance Charlie could hear Alvarez’s wife screaming from the bedroom, “who’s at the door, Rivera?  What the hell is going on out there?  It’s Christmas Eve for Christ’s sake!”

Charlie went back to his apartment and took down the eviction notice that still hung from the door.  He had left it up there for the past week hoping that Alvarez would think he had left town for the holidays and not seen it.  Maybe that would buy him a few days, he thought, at least until after Christmas.  But that didn’t matter now because he had bought himself a month, or rather, someone had bought it for him.

Of the $600 he had left, Charlie used $100 on utilities and groceries.  The note that came with the check had told him to use it on something special for himself, and retaining shelter seemed like something special.  But what do I do with the rest?  Charlie thought about using it to buy a suit that he could wear on job interviews.  He already had a job tending-bar at McTaggart’s Pub, but most of the sparse patrons there were as broke as he, which meant that tips were generally nonexistent.  With a suit and tie, maybe he could get a real job in an office.

Maybe not.  Who was he kidding?  Even if he could get a job at an office he wouldn’t want to.  So he took his money and went to McTaggart’s to have a few drinks before his shift.  The owner, Bobby McTaggart, and his bookie, a regular called “Tough” Tommy were sitting at the bar sharing a bottle of Jameson.

“What’s up Charlie?”  Bobby said.

“Nothing.”  Charlie went behind the bar and topped of the men’s glasses before filling one of his own.  “I just fell into a bit of money, Bobby, really saved my ass from being out on the street.”

“Good for you, kid, it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“You want a real Christmas miracle?” Tommy added, “Put that money you got on the Giants; Carolina’s 1-13, no way they’re touchin' the G-Men.”

Charlie pictured Alvarez standing in the doorway wearing thermal underwear and a Giant’s sweatshirt.  fucking slumlord, he thought.  “Tommy, what kind of odds is Carolina getting to win that game?”

“The money line?  Bet $100 to win $500.”

“I think I’ll bet $500 on Carolina.  Can you take that for me?”

“Sure, kid, you got the money?”

Charlie took the wad of cash from his pocket and counted it out on the bar. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”  Bobby said, refilling the three glasses.

“Yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about Carolina.  Don't worry about me, man; I'm good.”

Charlie collected his winnings from Tommy the following Monday and bought a plane ticket to Los Angeles leaving that night.  He packed only what could fit into his gym bag, and as he checked the apartment a last time, saw the eviction notice from the week before on the kitchen counter.  He took it and tacked it to Alvarez’s door on his way out.  After, he banged on the door three times and scurried out of the building before anyone could answer.  In the distance he heard Alvarez yell, “Quit banging on my damned door!"  And behind him, the wife, "Rivera!  Who's banging on our door?  What kind of way is this to start a new year?!" 

Charlie never looked back at the dump.  He stopped at McTaggart’s before heading to the airport and thanked Bobby for giving him work.  He told him that he was moving to California to start a new life but that he’d be in touch at some point down the road.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about California.”