Fall of Giants

He left the grounds of Tŷ Gwyn and headed through the rain back into Aberowen, fuming. How like a priest, he thought resentfully, to take away a man’s chance of bettering himself. Spirya was comfortable now, food and clothing and accommodation all provided, forever, by the church and the hungry worshippers who gave money they could not afford. For the rest of his life, Spirya would have nothing to do but sing the services and fiddle with the altar boys.

What was Lev to do? If he gave up the card games, it would take him forever to save enough for his passage. He would be doomed to spend years tending pit ponies half a mile underground. And he would never redeem himself by sending Grigori the price of a ticket to America.

He had never chosen the safe path.

He made his way to the Two Crowns pub. In Sabbath-observing Wales pubs were not allowed to open on Sundays, but the rules were lightly regarded in Aberowen. There was only one policeman in the town and, like most people, he took Sundays off. The Two Crowns closed its front door, for the sake of appearances, but regulars went in through the kitchen, and business was done as usual.

At the bar were the Ponti brothers, Joey and Johnny. They were drinking whisky, unusually. The miners drank beer. Whisky was a rich man’s potion, and a bottle probably lasted the Two Crowns from one Christmas to the next.

Lev ordered a pot of beer and addressed the elder brother. “Aye, aye, Joey.”

“Aye, aye, Grigori.” Lev was still using his brother’s name, which was on the passport.

“Feeling flush today, Joey, is it?”

“Aye. Me and the kid went to Cardiff yesterday for the boxing.”

The brothers looked like boxers themselves, Lev thought: two broad-shouldered, bull-necked men with big hands. “Good, was it?” he said.

“Darkie Jenkins versus Roman Tony. We bet on Tony, being Italian like us. Odds of thirteen to one, and he knocked Jenkins out in three rounds.”

Lev sometimes struggled with formal English, but he knew the meaning of “thirteen to one.” He said: “You should come and play cards. You are… ” He hesitated, then remembered the phrase. “You are making a lucky streak.”

“Oh, I don’t want to lose it as quick as I won it,” Joey said.

However, when the card school assembled in the barn half an hour later Joey and Johnny were there. The rest of the players were a mixture of Russian and Welsh.

They played a local version of poker called three-card brag. Lev liked it. After the initial three, no further cards were dealt or exchanged, so the game went fast. If a player raised the bet, the next man in the circle had to match the raise immediately-he could not stay in the game by betting the original stake-so the pot grew quickly. Betting continued until there were only two players left, at which point one of them could end the round by doubling the previous bet, which forced his opponent to show his cards. The best hand was three of a kind, known as a prial, and the highest of all was a prial of treys, three threes.

Lev had a natural instinct for odds and would usually have won at cards without cheating, but that was too slow.

The deal moved to the left every hand, so Lev could fix the cards only once in a while. However, there were a thousand ways to cheat, and Lev had devised a simple code that enabled Rhys to indicate when he had a good hand. Lev would then stay in the betting, regardless of what he was holding, to force the stakes up and enlarge the pot. Most of the time everyone else would drop out, and Lev would then lose to Rhys.

As the first hand was dealt, Lev decided this would be his last game. If he cleaned out the Ponti brothers he would probably be able to buy his ticket. Next Sunday Spirya would make inquiries to find out whether Lev was still running a card school. By then Lev wanted to be at sea.

Over the next two hours Lev watched Rhys’s winnings grow and told himself America was coming nearer with each penny. He did not usually like to clean anyone out, because he wanted them to come back next week. But today was the day to go for the jackpot.

As the afternoon began to darken outside he got the deal. He gave Joey Ponti three aces and Rhys three threes. In this game, threes beat aces. He gave himself a pair of kings, which justified him in betting high. He stayed in the betting until Joey was almost broke-he did not want to collect any IOUs. Joey used the last of his money to see Rhys’s hand. The expression on Joey’s face when Rhys showed a prial of treys was both comical and pitiful.

Rhys raked the money in. Lev stood up and said: “I’m cleaned out.” The game broke up and they all returned to the bar, where Rhys bought a round of drinks to soothe the feelings of the losers. The Ponti brothers reverted to drinking beer, and Joey said: “Ah, well, easy come, easy go, isn’t it?”