True Colours Will Show

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
After a bad day at work a man decides to spend his evening ina casino gambling and drinking.

Submitted: August 20, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 20, 2015



True Colours Will Show  


Arthur Hardwicke had had an eventful day for all the wrong reasons.  He had been issued a warning from his boss stating that he had not been working to a satisfactory level, and that if he did not improve he would be fired. After receiving this news Arthur decided to deal with this situation by doing the only thing he knew how. Going to the gambling establishment that had just opened by the beach. He was an unlikeable character, and the it didn't help that his favourite way to pass the time was by going down to the casino, getting drunk, losing a few thousand dollars and making a few new enemies.


Arthur walked down a path to the casino, the gravel crunching underfoot. A garden surrounded the casino; Arthur had never been somewhere so beautifully designed. He sauntered through the open door and was greeted by a calm mix of conversations and some music playing softly in the background. The noises all mixed together to create a tranquil hum. Confidently Arthur approached the cashier and asked for one thousand dollars worth of chips. He held the black and white chips in his hand and stared at them methodically. He knew that he was going to have fun tonight. Next was the bar; he ordered whiskeys. The first he drank hastily, the second he savoured and brought the third with him to the table.


Arthur was a short, stout man so it did not take much alcohol to get him drunk but never the less he insisted on drinking like a fish. He strutted across the deep carpet until he reached the poker table. The table was covered in a soft dark green fabric with a yellow outline inside for a playing area.  He examined the other players at the table. A tall man with distinguished grey hair but a frayed collar and a cheap suit; a stressed-looking man with an improbably large gold Rolex on his wrist, tobacco stained teeth that were brown as earth, sour breath and a small stack of chips. Arthur took a mouthful of his dark whiskey and commenced play.


Arthur played poker for about an hour, folding hands, losing a couple of hundred dollars here and there and occasionally winning.


A beautiful waitress approached the table.


 “Would anyone like some drinks?” She queried.


“Yes, a gin thanks love.”


Arthur thought he was being flirtatious but what he failed to see was the waitress roll her eyes and subtly wipe her hand on her black and white striped apron. A big man began to approach the table casually.


“May I join?” The man asked the dealer politely.


“Of course Sir” the dealer answered.


The man sat down and placed his chips on the table. Arthur examined him like he had done to the other players before.  His eyes moved up the smart tuxedo and he suppressed a short gasp of surprise at the man’s dark smiling face, which framed his white teeth, and drew back at the sight of the dark hand as it moved across the felt.


“So what’s your name?” Arthur asked, boozily confident.


“Richard,” the man answered.


Arthur had never been happy with the way his country had changed since the civil rights movement.  He didn’t know any black Americans and he had no intention of changing now. Six boring hands went by quickly. Arthur lost around fifty dollars to the man with the Rolex, who was looking more relaxed now that he had won something and decided to leave. The man picked up his chips and left the table. Arthur continued to sip on his drink. The next hand came by, two aces for Arthur.


‘This should be good”


Arthur placed down two hundered dollars, Richard decided to call after some deep thought.


“So how can you afford to come here boy?” Arthur questioned Richard, trying hard to suppress the sneer.


“Oh, you know, I just work hard and I wanted to treat myself to a game instead of watching for a change.”


“It’s a nice suit as well,” Arthur hissed.


“Yes, it was a gift from my friend.” Responded Richard quietly.


The dealer dealt out the flop, a two of hearts, a five of hearts and an ace of hearts. Arthur quickly put in four hundred dollars more without even thinking, Richard looked at his cards, contemplated for a good twenty seconds and put four hundred dollars in to call the bet.


“You sure you’ve got that much?” Arthur asked with a condescending chuckle.


“I’ll be fine” Replied Richard with a hint of annoyance in his voice. The turn came.


‘ My final ace.’


 A wave of comfort and warmth covered Arthur’s body. He knew he had won.  Hastily Arthur placed the remainder of his chips onto the table and smiled enthusiastically. Richard looked at Arthur, his cards and then his chips. The bet was matched.


“Ha-ha boy, you probably thought I was bluffing!” Arthur exclaimed with excitement, flipping over his cards to show his four aces. Richard maintained calm and collected. Arthur began to take his chips the same way an excited child opens a present. The dealer asked for Richard to show his cards… A straight flush, the highest hand possible… Arthur felt his heart sink and rage took over.


“GODDAMIT NIGGER, YOU SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED IN A PLACE LIKE THIS, WHERE IS THE OWNER!” Arthur screamed throwing his glass onto the carpeted floor.


Richard spoke calmly.


“Sir I understand that you are quite upset about losing your money, but I cannot tolerate your impoliteness and racist manner in my club. I ask of you to leave my premises or I will have to call the police.”


Arthur’s skin went a ghostly white.


“Walter?” Richard asked.


“Yes Sir”, the dealer stood up tentatively.


“Please escort this gentlemen off site”


“Of course Sir,”


Arthur winced under Walter’s iron grip. Before he almost fell out the double glass doors, he managed to catch his balance and straighten his tie. 


“And keep your damn casino!!”  He bellowed, as he turned around and made his way down the gravel drive.  Gathering himself, he noticed the lights of a new hotel glimmering in the distance, a giddy felling taking over.


 “Today had been a miserable failure”, He thought, “but tomorrow is another day.”










© Copyright 2018 Thomas Walsh. All rights reserved.

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