The Final Bet

Chad Seivers sat at the cocktail table clutching his ticket in desperation.

Perspiration beaded on his forehead and sweat made his hands clammy. He took a deep breath, trembling with anticipation. It all came down to this. A final bet. A final moment to be rid of all his demons. The announcer on the big screen TV called out the next few minutes as if he were talking directly to Chad.

“It all comes down to this. For all the marbles, a 44-yard field goal to win the game and take home the championship.”

This was supposed to be a sure thing. The wrong team was favored. A massive payout. All his problems would be over. If the kick went through the uprights… all was forgiven. The $600,000 payout wouldn’t be enough to cover all his debts, but it would at least pay off his bookie. He shuddered. How did he get this far? This was his last hope, and it all rode on the right leg of an NFL football player.

Make it, make it, make it. He chanted the words in his mind as if he could will the ball through the goal posts.

“The kick is up.”

He held his breath.

“It’s long enough.”

Hope stirred in his gut, finally, he could move on with his life.

“He pushed it! Wide right! The Patriots win! The Patriots win! Unbelievable!”

Chad gasped for breath. It was all gone. The room faded around him, his vision grew hazy. He laid his head on the table, trying not to weep.

“What have I done?” he whispered to himself.

Any moment now, his phone would light up and the end would come calling.

Clunk.

He startled.

The sound of glass hitting the table woke him from his stupor. An old man, probably in his eighties, stood opposite him, staring with grimacing eyes.

Chad couldn’t move. He was startled by the man’s presence but the emotions of his future being washed away took any care for the old man’s persistent gaze away.

“I know that look,” said the old man.

Chad just stared into his cold brown-eyed gaze.

“You think you’ve lost everything, don’t you?”

He wasn’t wrong there.

“You think this is the end. You gambled away your life and now you’ll spend your days on the run from some bookie named Reg.”

Chad met his gaze. Curious, but annoyed.

“Ricky,” he muttered in response.

“Excuse me… Reg was my bookie. Sure, Ricky it is. The name’s Dom.” He stuck out a bony hand.

Chad glanced down at the hand and back up at Dom. What kind of name was that for an eighty-year-old man? And come to think of it, what in the world was an old man doing at Caesar’s Palace at this time of night anyway?

Dom pulled his hand back and grinned.

“No offense,” Chad muttered, “But you don’t know anything about me and I’m not really in the mood for making friends tonight. Leave me alone.”

Dom coughed. Chad recoiled as spittle shot from the old man’s mouth. Disgusting.

“No, I get it. I do. That’s fine. But what if I told you I have the answer to all your problems?”

Chad stifled a growl. Annoyance was growing. He should just leave. He couldn’t believe he was getting baited by some get rich quick dude after he just lost everything.

“Just leave me alone,” Chad managed through gritted teeth. “Fine, fine. Don’t worry. I’m not trying to get anything from you. I just saw you and immediately knew what you were going through. Like I said, my bookie’s name was Reg.”

He pulled out a little black book and set it gently on the table. From the looks of it, it was a normal, but nice, Moleskine notebook. The kind you journal in and keep by your bedside for years. Chad glanced down, his anger giving way to confusion.

“It’s all in this book. Write whatever you want in it. It comes true.”

Chad yelped a laugh and suppressed it immediately. Eyes turned to their table briefly, then away.

“Fine,” Dom chuckled, “You don’t have to believe me.” He tapped his hand lightly on the little black book. “But tonight… just think. What have you got to lose?”

He flashed a grin and hobbled away.

Chad sat, confused. The hustle and bustle of Caesar’s Palace provided a background track to his pounding heart’s rhythm.

What have you got to lose?

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Chad grabbed the book and opened it. The word Generous flashed has he opened to the first blank page. He blinked his eyes. Had he seen that correctly? He closed the book and opened it again. Nothing.

Weird.

He asked the waiter for a pen and wrote quickly on the front page: All Chad’s debts are paid plus... he paused... $20,000.

That would provide a good buffer.

He closed the cover.

Now what?

He felt stupid but he supposed that was better than feeling dead. Years of running from one scheme to the next had led him to this moment.

It was the American dream, they said. Get rich quick. Fool proof. Bet all you have! And he fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Every time. And as he sat there looking at a normal notebook, he couldn’t help but feel he’d fallen for it again.

What made him such an obvious mark?

Maybe it was the fact that he was a high school drop out? Or that he had never found any true meaning in life or relationships and it was obvious to the schemers that he just wanted someone to believe in him. Whatever it was, here he sat, again, stupefied by his own ignorance.

Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzz.

His phone. He looked at the front as if unaware of who might be calling, but he knew.

His hands trembled and he took a deep breath. One last time.

“Hello,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, Chad,” Ricky’s gravelly voice echoed through the phone.

“Um, yeah, Ricky! Hi… Look, I…” Chad started, but was cut off.

“Chad.” There was something different about his voice now. “I don’t know how you did it, but congratulations.” The line clicked dead.

What?

Chad stared at the little black book. Could it really be? He glanced around, suddenly aware of how many people were in the room. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Ricky tell someone congratulations. Unless he was being sarcastic. But then again, Ricky was rarely sarcastic, fists and crow bars did his talking for him.

He gathered the book close and opened the cover again.

GENEROUS flashed before his eyes. He blinked the word away.

Nothing.

He flipped a few pages.

Still nothing.

He was sure he had written something.

Now he was lost in his own world, unaware of those around him. He stared in wonder at the blank pages in the book.

“What the…” he murmured grabbing the pen again.

He shook his head to clear it. He needed a test. Glancing up, he looked around. A stunningly beautiful woman connected eyes with him from across the room. He looked away. Then down at the notebook.

“Okay….” He breathed out, chuckling to himself. His hand trembled now. “Let’s see if Dom was telling the truth.”

He rolled the pen between his fingers and settled the tip against the page.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbled as he wrote on the first page again.

“Um, hi.”

He looked up. The woman stood in front of him now. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a playful smile tugging at the edge of her luscious red lips.

He stared stupidly.

“I don’t know what made me do this,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, “but, I couldn’t help but notice you over here all alone. Call me.” She dropped a napkin in front of him, phone number and name staring up at him. She winked and walked away.

Chad gasped.

He looked down at the page in front of him. “The beautiful young woman gave Chad her number” started to disappear from the page as she walked away.

His heart drummed even louder now. His ears pounded with his pulse.

Chad snatched up the notebook and clumsily stumbled to the bathroom where he set the book down on the counter and stared into the mirror as the water ran.

He brushed a small strand of grey hair that he hadn’t noticed before away from his eyes.

He got out his phone and opened his bank app. +$20,000 deposit stood on the top line. He almost fell over.

He opened the book again.

GENEROUS.

What was with that word?

He took the pen, one more time.

Chad’s bank account was filled…

He paused.

A puckering on the inside cover caught his eye. As he studied it, he saw that there was a small seam near the binding on the inside of the book. Completely lost to the world around him now, Chad picked at the seam. A small piece of cloth peeled away revealing one handwritten sentence etched in red across the inside cover of the book.

Take what you want. But beware: Only the generous will be spared.

His heart leapt to his throat. Pain shot through his knees and back and he almost crumpled to the floor in agony. What was happening?

He steadied himself on the bathroom counter and glanced into the mirror.

He screamed, his hands slipped, and he hit floor with a thud.

What was that? The old man in the mirror. Was that him? What was going on?

Another pain shot through his chest. He clutched at it with his right hand, which hurt now as well. He glanced down, the bony hand of an old man rested against his chest.

His bony hand.

He tried to scramble to his feet but could only manage to get to his knees before he was out of breath.

The old man’s hands grasped at the counter and Chad pulled himself up with eyes closed, too afraid to investigate the mirrored image of himself.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. A man of about eighty years old stared back at him. Grandpa? No, it was him.

The pain entered his body again and he grimaced. The little black book lay on the counter staring up at him, the words he had written fading as he looked. His eyes grew wide, he scrambled for his phone as fast as his bony hands would let him.

Opening his phone, he checked his bank account again, he wheezed with disbelief. 1.5 million dollars. He refreshed the page. Two million. Again. Three.

Pain shot through his chest again. He closed the book.

Refresh. Four.

He gasped for breath. The realization that he was having a heart attack set in on him. He fumbled for the black book again and managed to open the cover.

GENEROUS.

Refresh. Six.

The pain was getting unbearable now. This was the end. There was nothing he could do about it.

GENEROUS.

The words flashed in his mind again. The phrase from the inside of the book. What could it mean?

The only words that didn’t disappear in the book were those red-lettered words. A warning of sorts. Or… Instructions?

He caught his breath and gripped the pen with all his might. The only words that weren’t fleeting were about generosity.

He put the pen to the page and scrawled, “All of the extra money from Chad’s account goes to…” He paused. Goes to where?

His brain was foggy. He couldn’t think. The edges of his mind started to darken. The end was near.

He focused on the page, the words. Who?

Everyone else.

He collapsed.

The floor was hard. And cold. And dark. Hell? Heaven?

Chad opened his eyes. How long had he been out?

He glanced at his hands. Almost normal.

He scrambled for his phone. Refresh.

$20,000 with a note – Be generous.