T he priest was playing cards with the man propped up in the hospital bed. The man took the discard from the pile and declared, "Gin!"
"You wouldn't be manipulating the cards on me would you, Frank?" the priest asked as he mucked his cards on the portable bedside table.
"You mean like this?"
The man in bed gave the cards a professional shuffle and proceeded to deal the four aces off the top of the deck.
"Exactly," the priest said.
"You know I stopped that kind of thing a long time ago-especially here in Vegas. Besides, you're not only my priest but my brother, too. I wouldn't cheat you."
"Except when we where kids and you wanted candy money."
"That was then. This is now. And I appreciate it that you came to Vegas for my operation."
"A place that's hotter than hell, I must say," the priest remarked. "Now tell me again about your operation."
"It's a tumor near the heart. They want to go in-dig it out and test it to see if it's malignant."
"And if it is?"
The man shrugged. "I'll take it day-by-day. We've both had a good run since the days back in Chicago. You went to the seminary."
"And you," the priest said. "Disappeared into the back rooms in Cicero to learn your trade."
"And after I graduated, I was moved to Vegas by my instructors to catch cheats in the casinos-rather than be one."
"To the everlasting disappointment of our mother. Bless her soul."
"She just wanted us to be happy."
"And you've been happy with your life here in Vegas?"
A grin spread across the face of the man in bed. "Well let's say I haven't exactly been celibate."
"And now?"
"And now what?" The man in bed said angrily. "Are you suggesting that my lifestyle has led to my present condition? And I called you here to ask for forgiveness?"
"No, of course not," the priest said as a short, grey-bearded man in green scrubs entered the room.
"Sorry," the bearded man said. "Am I interrupting?"
"If you mean the performance of my last rites..." the man in bed said, "The answer is, no! And you are?"
"Someone who is just checking on the comfort of the patients."
The man in bed gave the little bearded man a long hard look. "I haven't seen you around here before."
"No," the bearded man said. "I generally appear at the end of the patient's stay." Eyeing the playing cards on the table he said, "Ah! Cards, my favorite pastime."
"And what's your game?" the man in bed asked.
"Gin Rummy." The bearded man said.
A mischievous smile crossed the face of the man in bed. "Care for a quick game?"
"Yes, I would."
"Now Frank," the priest said. "I'm sure this gentleman has other patients to attend to."
"Actually, I don't," the bearded man said.
"Ok," the man in bed said. "We'll play just one hand. No knocking. It takes gin to win."
"And the stakes?" the bearded man asked.
"If I win. You stay away for awhile longer."
"And if I win?"
"Do with me what you will."
"Agreed."
"My cards, my shuffle," the man in bed said.
"And I cut the cards," the bearded man said, eyes glistening.
"Of course."
The man in bed gave the cards a long shuffle, let the bearded man the cut and to dealt each of them a ten-card hand of gin rummy.
For the next five minutes the priest carefully watched his brother and the bearded man play down the stack until finally....
"Gin!" The man in bed announced as he laid down his hand.
The bearded man looked disappointed and asked, "What was the winning card you drew?"
"The ace of hearts."
"But of course," he said, regretfully. "Now I must go. Good luck with your operation."
"Do I need it?"
"Not this time."
As he turned to leave, the bearded man removed a card from his pocket and placed it on the stack of playing cards. "My card... for future reference," he said.
After the bearded man left the room, the priest's face was flushed with rage. "Frank!" he said, barely controlling his fury. "You cheated that man. Why?"
"I had a gut feeling about him."
"And what was that feeling?" he demanded.
The man in bed glanced at the card the bearded man left, smiled, and handed it to the priest. "Here's why," he said. "You should have no problem reading it. It's in Latin."
The priest's face turned white as he read the single word engraved on the card-Mort`e.
"That man was...?"
"Yes. Mort`e or Death in Latin."
"And you, Frank?"
"Just played the game of my life and cheated-Death."
Write to writer Leo Cummins at 31 Timber Lane, Hilton Head Island, SC 29926
