Chapter 2

I never cashed in all my chips. I would always cash an amount that would not draw attention by the IRS or the casinos. There were a number of other safeguards I employed. All the same, I knew it was inevitable that I would be caught. The casinos had too much experience and technology on their side. When I was caught, I would be placed in the legendary blackbook of Las Vegas. I would be banished from ever playing there again.

I always had a unique talent for numbers. I can instantly calculate the odds of a particular card being dealt at any given time. Coupled with a photographic memory, I could actually have the odds in my favor on any given hand.

Las Vegas had a term for this, it was called card counting and in the eyes of the casinos it was tantamount to cheating and therefore not allowed. Card counters were discouraged from playing and if they continued they would be barred from playing. If they still attempted to play, well, there were the rumors of mutilations and unmarked graves in the Nevada desert.

I'm not a particularly courageous person. Nor, would anyone consider me to be adventurous. It just happened that I discovered my ability at an ebb in my life when I was desperate for funds. Then it was a matter of survival, now it was simply an expedient way to replenish everything I lost.

How ironic to think I could replenish everything. Some things would never be the same. My job, my reputation, but mostly the core of my life, Laura, now all gone leaving a destroyed man in their wake.

How could I have gone from the summit of the academic world to chasing aces in such a short time? I thought back on my days of being a tenured professor of mathematics at the university. What pride I had, what arrogance, what hubris. I was a rising star in creating new theorems to be dissected and debated by great minds. Now, the only issue I debated was whether to stand pat or take a hit.

All the shame, all the humiliation, it all could have been borne had it not been for the betrayal by Laura. Why had she done it? I never did get a satisfactory answer. All that was certain was she was now in the arms of another man. A man that had schemed and plotted my downfall and had exceeded all expectations of ruining me.

Perhaps it was fate that me and my rival would meet at the crucial juncture in our lives and events transpired whatever the variables would have been. The only certain thing was how the events did unfold over time and now the only guess was how the hand would play out.

I thought back on my first day at the university which had hired me as an assistant professor. I was fumbling my way around campus trying to find the math department. A student took pity on me and directed me to the correct building. Then I had to delve into the labyrinth of offices trying to find the head of the department, Dr. Ben Stevens.

I finally chanced upon the doorplate of Dr. Stevens and tentatively knocked on the door. A roar commanding me to enter was the response to my timid knocks. As I peeked in, I saw an elderly gentleman sitting behind a desk buried under stacks of files. "Ah, you must be Reed. We've been expecting you! Are you hungry? I'm famished and I know a place that serves great food and Guinness at room temperature! By the way, it will be your treat!"

And that machine gun speech was my introduction to Dr. Stevens. The food was as he described and the Guinness was flowing. By the second mug he insisted on me calling him Ben. By the third, he was busy calling up everyone in the department to come join him in meeting the latest wunderkind.

I was buried under a flurry of introductions and though I had a great memory, the noise and chaos and beer at the table had me worried that I would forget someone. When I woke up the next morning with my hangover, I wasn't sure who I was. Somehow I made it back to Ben's office and taking no pity on me began discussing loudly what class assignments I had for the upcoming semester. When he was sure I had the days and times down for each class, he began discussing the nuances of the school. For a solid three hours he held court on the various factions of the school.

The English Department was involved in a feud to the death with the Spanish Department. Nobody liked the French Department and damn few people could find the German Department. The up and comers were the Oriental Languages Departments who would one day take over the world. Chemistry got along okay with Biology, but not with Botany. Astronomy was laidback and caused no trouble. History kept to themselves and Poly Sci was fomenting revolution every day. The various sports teams were all inept and yet commandeered a disproportionate amount of the budget.

Finally, Ben stopped and pronounced it lunch time and that it was my treat and took me to the seediest motorcycle bar I've ever been in. Bikers of all sort greeted him and engaged in conversations of various Harley models with him. It turned out that he was respected as a restorer of old motorcycles. Currently he was restoring a 1940 Indian Chief and everybody wanted to know when the big unveiling would take place.

For the rest of the afternoon, he held court at the bar and I was privy to hearing about the bikers and their bikes and their old ladies in that order of importance. When I was asked what bike, I rode Ben saved me by saying I had commissioned him to restore a bike, but, we wouldn't discuss it till it was finished.

Once again, I stumbled home to my apartment after Ben and I shared a cab after leaving the bar. I collapsed into bed as it revolved around and I wondered how long could my kidneys and liver keep up. When the alarm went off I groggily, got up and stumbled into the shower to wash away the alcoholic vapors. Again, I found myself outside Ben's door and again I was commanded to enter.

"Well, Reed, it was 50/50 on whether you would show up with a tattoo today!" he said with a grin.

"Ben, I can't say one way or the other, my body is still numb."

With that he laughed and we settled into a more relaxed conversation. I was beginning to enjoy his company even if he did drink more than I cared for. We discussed the upcoming student orientation scheduled for next week opening the fall semester. Then he explained his management style for the department. I was impressed by the degree of autonomy each professor had under him. All he expected were our best efforts to educate our students and to continue to educate ourselves in our chosen field.

"Come on, let me show you where your office will be. Then we'll go get lunch, your treat."