"Joe, I've been invited to a high stakes game at Harrah's Rincon, down in San Diego County. Want to come along for the ride?"
"Well, I surely don't want to go for the game. If you say its high stakes it's way out of my league, but I'd like to see the casino. Count me in. When are you going?"
"Saturday morning, the game starts at seven that night."
We went south on I-405 and across the I-91 to connect with I-15 south; it's an easy drive on Saturday morning.
Once in San Diego County it's just a few miles to route 76. Heading east on this very curvy road we passed two other Indian casinos, Pala, and Pauma. I was checking the map as we rode through the small village of Pauma Center. I said "Hobby, the turn south to Harrah's should be coming up soon."
"I see it, Joe," he said as he gently rounded the corner with the big Rolls-Royce.
A few minutes later we rolled up to the hotel's portecochere. From the reception area we could see a bit of the casino; it looked impressive. We had time for dinner before Hobby hit the big game.
"Joe. Do you want to look over my shoulder?"
"Nah, I'll go to the casino and keep myself busy. Call me on my cell if you want to meet."
I retired about 2 a.m. and awoke the next day about noon. I don't know when Hobby got in. I wasn't going to wake him, but he called as I passed his room. "Joe, what's up?"
"Want to join me for lunch? And, how did you do last night?"
"Not bad, I won a bit." "A bit?"
"About 50K. I got lucky; I was down about 200 at one point. They want to start a game this afternoon, but I'm not sure. Right now I'm starved. I'll only be a few minutes."
I don't usually go for the buffet, but it looked too enticing to pass up. Hobby and I took our time enjoying it.
"So tell me about the game. Anyone you knew?"
"None. They were mostly out-of-state guys. The big loser was a rancher from Wyoming; he dropped about a half-mil."
"Wow! Any professional sharks?"
"I don't think so. The management screens them. That's why I like the game. I feel I have a fair chance of winning." After lunch we watched the Charger's game. "We could leave now, or in the morning, Joe. What do you think?"
"I don't feel like packing up. Let's stay over."
At the end of the game there was a news flash about a forest fire between Ramona and Julian. "Maybe we should get out tonight, Hobby. That fire's about 25 miles from here."
"Not a problem, Joe," Hobby said.
We watched the news until midnight before we turned in. It looked like the fire was picking up momentum since a fierce Santa Ana wind was driving it and the vegetation was bone dry due to a year's drought. I went to bed thinking things could get a lot worse, but I was sure we were safe. About 5 a.m. I got up to pee and looked out the window to the east. "Hobby, wake up," I hollered. Large flaming areas seemed mighty close.
"Wow, Joe. I've never seen anything it. Let's go down and see what going on."
There was some activity in the lobby, but toward the casino everything looked quiet. We went outside to the pool area. The air was very smoky and carrying ash. At the side fence a flat bed truck, like you see on a golf course, pulled up and the driver hollered, "Open the gate."
He backed in next to the pool and dropped in a fat hose which was connected to a large tank. "I've gotta fill this up. There's some fire nearby where some old folks live."
"Can we help?" Hobby offered.
"Maybe. Grab some towels from the shack and wet them down." After we soaked up a few the driver took one and put it over his head. "Pull up the hose. If you want to come along put on a towel."
I was thinking, this is stupid, we're not firefighters, but there was no deterring Hobby. He was as raring to go as a firehouse dog. We drove about a half-mile down the road where we could see flames nearby to the east. "Hang on," I heard as our vehicle bounced onto a rutted dirt road. We were soon in front of a small cottage partially enveloped in flame. "Some old folks live here; come on!"
The front door was locked but Hobby didn't waste a moment before giving it a kick that knocked it open. A whoosh of smoke and flame knocked us back. "There's a bedroom here. I'm going in," our driver said. "There's another too; check it out." We followed into the entryway which was aflame on our left.
When Hobby opened the other door, there was another blast of flames.
I saw our driver running out carrying someone.
"Hobby, it's too late. We've gotta get out of here." I don't know if he heard me before he disappeared into the inferno. It may have been just seconds, but it seemed too long for him to survive. I knew I had to get out before I was engulfed. Just as I was about to bolt I saw a figure coming toward me. "Hobby, this way!" I grabbed him and made for the door. We stumbled down the slope in front of the raging fireball.
Hobby and I were coughing and gagging. The figure in the blanket, an old lady, seemed unconscious. Fortunately, a fire truck and ambulance were headed toward us. "You guys OK?" a paramedic asked.
"Think so. I don't know about her, but she's got a pulse."
Back at the hotel we found a nurse who bandaged Hobby's burned hand. As we were going to the suite a passenger in the elevator said to Hobby, "What happened to you?"
"I was playing poker," Hobby answered with a straight face, "had a hot hand."
