Page 12 of Finding Parker

“I’ve seen them on ESPN. The tournaments, yes,” I nodded as I wondered what the similarities were, at least in his mind.

Kenton began to pace in front of the window as he spoke.

“Everyone gets two hole cards. Only you get to see these cards. Everyone has an opportunity to bet, check, raise, or fold. To bet is to place money on your belief that you’ll win. To check is to say, so far, I like what I see, but I want to see more. It cost nothing to check. To fold is to say, based on what I’ve seen, I give up. This isn’t worth my time or effort. Three more cards are dealt. The flop. Everyone gets to bet, check, raise or fold. Then, another card is dealt. The turn. Bet, check, raise, or fold again. Then, the last card is dealt. The River. Bet, check, raise, or fold. It’s a simple game.”

“The tournament, like life, starts with a wide assortment of people. Wannabe’s, hacks, the hopeful, the desperate, the one or two who inevitably lied or fumble-fucked their way into the room, the ones who are slowly learning, a few who know actually how to play – but not necessarily well, and then there’s the one. The one person who has it all figured out. He has every potential option, equation, and scenario tucked away in the back of his mind. Based on experience, their understanding of people, and some simple mathematics, he or she will kick the respective ass of everyone else, Parker.”

“Now, it’s down to you and him. He gets his hole cards and checks. You look at yours. A pair of aces. After the ace, nine, deuce flop, he checks. You wonder why he’s even there. You’re sitting on three aces. On the turn, another deuce, and he goes all in. Hell, he shoves a million three hundred and fifty fucking thousand dollars into the center of the table. He’s that sure. What’s he thinking, you ask yourself. And you study the cards. You wonder. You don’t see it. All you see is your three aces. He must have something. You can’t see it. Fuck it, you say. You go all in. Say a million one. Everyone gasps. They can’t believe it. Over go your cards, and you realize that the deuce you saw on the flop wasn’t the only deuce on the table. You missed the deuce on the turn. And he’s holding the other two. For some reason you didn’t see it. You forgot to eat breakfast. You had one too many martinis for lunch in the lounge. Your girlfriend called you the night before and said I wanted some space. Your ingrown toenail hurts, who fucking knows. But you missed it. The river card is your only hope, and here it comes…an eight of hearts. You lost. He won. You missed a small detail and it cost you,” he continued to pace and look out at the ocean.

“The details, Parker. Details. You have to pay attention to the details. They’ll be the death of you if you don’t. And you have to know when to shove your cards to the center of the table and say, I give up. There’s no shame in it. All the winners do it, and they do it regularly. The unintelligent, the dreamers, and the unknowing don’t,” he hesitated, and took a slow breath.

“And as a result they lose.” he breathed.

“Conversely, you must know, and know you must,” the tone of his voice changed to stern as he stopped pacing, turned, and shook his finger toward me.

“When to hold your cards close to your chest and say, I’ll risk it all. Being so certain that what you’re holding is right. That it is, without a doubt, the clear winner. So sure that you’re willing to risk it all, everything you have, knowing you have a winner in your hands.”

“In life, know when to check. It cost nothing to see what little additional life has to offer. Know when to fold. It’s when life’s dealt you a hand that just isn’t worth the risk. And know, Parker, when to hold your cards close to your chest and risk it all. Don’t ever be afraid to go all in, as long as you believe you’re holding a clear winner.”

I sat in the chair and stared at him in admiration. He was a very intelligent man with very sound advice. Life had most definitely dealt me a winning hand when Kenton decided to employ me. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and hoped that he would understand if I ever made decisions that were contrary to what he believed was best. I looked down at my empty hands and realized I had finished my sandwich.

“So, tell me about your morning. I took control of the conversation earlier and didn’t even let you speak. I’ll do that if I’m allowed. Just tell me to shut my mouth if I do it again,” he grinned, slowly walked to the chair, and sat down.

“Well,” I squirmed in my seat as I considered where to start.

“Don’t worry about what you say or how you say it, Parker. Just talk. We’re simply two guys discussing the events of our day. It’ll make me far more comfortable when you become at ease speaking with me, that’s for damned sure,” he rested his elbow on his thigh, lowered his chin into his hand, and raised one eyebrow slightly.

I smiled.

He laughed.

And I became a little more comfortable.

“Well, I went to the bookstore in Old Town. The two-story Barnes and Noble we discussed. I met a few girls, and I have a date with one of them Friday,” I paused, waiting for his praise.

“Her name? The one you’re taking on a date, that is,” he asked.

“Katelyn.”

He nodded his head slowly as he took the name into consideration.

“That’s a good name. Is she in school? Does she work?” he asked.

I thought of what Katelyn and I had discussed. We had talked about love, sex, her hatred of most men, and her whore sister, Christi.

“I’m not certain, we didn’t discuss it,” I responded.

“So,” he hesitated and lifted his chin from his hand.

“You’re going on a date with someone you virtually know nothing about?” he asked as he stood from his chair.

“Well, she has four sisters, one of which she perceives as being a whore. She believes in fucking, but no so much in love. She’s leery of men, and thinks they are deceptive and untruthful. Her parents have been together since…” I paused and thought as Kenton walked toward the window.

“Well, I’m not sure how long, but for a long time. She believes they’re in love. She said she believed in love, just that most men were more interested in sex than love. She said they threw the word love around in an effort to obtain sex.”

“So, you’re going on a date with someone you know virtually nothing about?” he asked again.

With his hands in the pockets of his shorts, he turned from facing the ocean and stared at me over his shoulder.