I'm a fool to kill you

THIRTY-SIX

When Jerry got back he had half-a-dozen brown bags with him. Ava had found a flashlight in the house, a pretty good one, so we set it on the table and started emptying bags. There were sandwiches, knishes, fries, potato salad, pickles, containers of coffee and a few cans of Dr Brown’s soda, which I hadn’t seen since I left New York.

‘Wouldja believe it?’ he asked. ‘I found a Jewish deli in L.A. that sells Dr Brown’s.’ He was ecstatic. He’d brought Cream, Black Cherry and Cel-ray.

‘What’s this?’ Ava asked, picking up a bottle of the Cel-ray.

‘Celery flavored soda,’ I said, ‘from New York.’

‘Yuch.’ She was still working on the large highball she’d built.

Jerry got some plates from the cupboard — he already knew where everything was — and set them out, and we doled out the food.

The sandwiches were pastrami or brisket, and we managed almost equally to divide up the food: half for Jerry, and half for me and Ava.

‘Oh, I can see hanging around with you two characters is going to have a real effect on my figure.’

‘Nothin’ wrong with your figure that I can see, Miss Ava,’ Jerry said.

‘Thank you, Jerry,’ she said. ‘You’re very sweet.’

After we ate we finished our coffee and played some three-handed gin at the kitchen table by flashlight until Ava’s eyelids started to droop.

‘That’s it for me, boys,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to get some sleep. You figure out how much you both owe me and let me know tomorrow.’

She stood up, walked to the doorway, then turned and looked over her shoulder at us.

‘Pick any bedroom you want,’ she said.

‘One of us will be up all night, Ava,’ I said. ‘In case you hear something, or want something.’

‘I feel safer already,’ she said, ‘but I hope you guys are better at bodyguarding than you are at cards.’

When she left the room Jerry said, ‘Hey, Mr G., you notice how much she’s like that broad she plays in Mogambo?’

‘Honey Bear.’

‘Yeah, that’s her,’ he said. ‘Geez, I can see why Mr S. is so gone on her.’

‘You wanna keep playin’ for a while, Jerry?’ I asked. ‘Maybe one of us can get back some of what we lost to her.’

‘Sure, why not?’

Playing Jerry heads up wasn’t such a good idea. Not only did I lose but he frustrated me. He didn’t play well — at least he didn’t play the way I was taught. He seemed to pick up cards only to discard them a few rounds later. He fed me two cards in a row, didn’t seem to make any attempt to remember what he gave me, and in the end he won anyway.

He had me shaking my head.

‘You play this game a lot, Mr G.?’ he asked.

‘I’ve been playing cards since I was a kid, Jerry,’ I said.

‘You ain’t doin’ so hot.’

‘You ain’t playin’ right,’ I said.

He shuffled the cards and muttered, ‘Yeah, but I’m winnin’.’

‘Just shut up and deal.’