At Least He's Not On Fire: A Tour of the Things That Escape My Head Read Free

what was happening through his shut eyelids, but he sensed the first card move into the air, and heard the poomph when it burst into flames. In his mind’s eye he envisioned the next card, the final card of the hand, slide off the top of the deck and come to a rest next to the six of hearts.  
    Silence.
    “Hm.” He heard the Devil mutter. “Well Wally, don’t you want to see your fate? This seems like the kind of thing you might want to aim your eyeballs at.”  
    Wally envisioned a queen, any queen in his mind. He slowly cracked his eyelids and peered out at the Devil’s face. The Devil’s eyes were locked on the fifth and final card of the game. Wally’s line of sight slowly slid downward, following the line the Devil’s eyes took.  
    The queen of hearts was the fifth card. Wally had made his straight.
    “WOOO! WOOO!” Wally leapt up out of the chair, shaking the card table and sending the cracked leather chair flying backwards. He pumped his fist and walked in circles, yelling at the top of his lungs. “I beat the Devil baby! Yeah! I’m the MAN! FUCK YEAH!”
    The Devil sat emotionless at the table, watching his failed prey celebrate the victory. After watching Wally for as long as he could stand, the Devil spoke up, “Wally.”
    Wally froze at the sound of the Devil’s cold voice. He spun and looked at Mr. Scratch, an expression on his face that looked as if he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “Yeah?”
    “Congratulations.” The Devil nodded his head, showing respect to Wally.
    “Thanks. So I win every pot for the rest of my life now? No matter what?” Wally was starting to get giddy just thinking about what he could win. Cars, fame, women, all of it was just a wager away. The thoughts of paying child support, and covering the crushing cost of his son's rehabilitation had slipped into the ether.
    The Devil’s response was flat, devoid of emotion. That scared Wally more than the Devil’s earlier gloating. “Every hand Wally. Winnah winnah, chicken dinnah. What say we go double or nothing? Make this interesting? One more hand?”  
    Wally’s color drained away. He had everything he wanted already, why risk it? He’d beaten the Devil, and would now win every pot for the rest of his life? Why bother risking it? “What’s in it for me? I’ve already got what I want. And if I win everything else from here on out I won't want for a damned thing.”
    “Mmm. Greed. I like it. Let’s say if you win this one, I’ll guarantee you get a free pass with the big guy, and the pearly gates open as wide as can be at the end of your days, no matter what. And if I win, well, let’s just say your soul goes back on the block.” The Devil's eyebrows danced up and down flirtatiously. Once again the Devil interlaced his fingers, and Wally was reminded of those leathery wings cocooning around a chunk of coal, a nugget of purest evil.
    Wally considered it, and then abruptly picked his knocked over chair up off the empty casino floor. “Alright, let’s do this. I got this. I beat you once, I can beat you again.”
    A slow insidious smile crept across the Devil’s face as Wally pulled up to the card table once more, “Arrogance too Wally? You spoil me. This is like that birthday holiday you all celebrate in December.”  
    “Don’t get used to it. I won’t be here long.”
    “Of that I am sure Wally. Shall we?” The Devil’s hands came apart and the deck on the table began shuffling itself. The Devil’s fiery eyes were locked on Wally’s, and this time, Wally didn’t look away.
    “Whoa. Wait a damn second. New deck there Mr. Scratch. All fifty two cards. No cheating,” Wally said as he shook his head, giving the Devil a dirty look.
    “Oh my, I had totally forgotten.” The Devil said with feigned guilt in his voice. He waved his hands and the deck disappeared with a puff of smoke. He reached inside his suit and produced a new deck. Wally noticed the glow of embers peek out when the