Paul weaves his old Toyota pickup from the uptown hill to the flats. The silver truck moves through neighborhoods common to almost any small town in America. Harrison Avenue is lined with hotels near the highway and the national fast food joints are dotted next to them. He passes a nearly empty mall but there’s construction work on the property. More chains are coming.
Paul’s driving without any real destination. Just trying to get a feel for the town. It’s been part of his nightly routine since he moved into his apartment a week ago. He drives all the way to the airport at the edge of town. It has a few flights a day. Expect a layover unless you’re flying to Denver or Salt Lake City. He circles through the parking lot and passes the lone terminal. To the left the parking lot is full of cars waiting for people to return.
Paul guides the truck through the homes surrounding the golf course. Custom homes with manicured lawns and Halloween decorations. He takes a wrong turn and ends up lost in an industrial district. Luckily, it’s hard to get lost in Butte. There are many landmarks. To the east you have the white beacon of Our Lady of the Rockies. Up north to the hill you have the logo from Montana Tech. Barring weather both can be seen easily.
The truck pulls into a parking lot with a sign announcing “Live Poker”. Most of the casinos in town are just lounges with slot machines, but here there’s a nightly game that can get lively. It’s just a big square building.
“Hey neighbor, we got a seat for you over here!”
The voice belongs to Stephen Silversmith.
Paul takes his seat and introductions are made. The game is no-limit hold ‘em. However, the blinds are only one and two dollars. Those are the bets put out by the first and second players after the dealer. That will be the poker lesson today.
“Y’all be careful now,” Stephen says. “Paul here is a ringer. Don’t let those accountant glasses fool you.”
Everyone laughs.
Halfway through the night as the chips slowly move to Paul and Stephen, the latter starts chuckling to himself.
“What’s so funny, Stephen?” one of the players asks.
“Take a close look at him. Don’t y’all remember him from somewhere?”
Silent confusion.
“Poker on TV. For like two years he was on everything.”
“I didn’t want to say anything,” the dealer says.
“Where are the bracelets?” Stephen asks.
“Mom’s house, I think.”
Two hours later, sixty percent of the chips on the table sit in front of Paul as a new hand is dealt. Stephen raises to 10 dollars. Paul raises to 25 from the dealer button. Small blind folds. Big blind calls. Stephen calls.
“You two aren’t colluding, are ya?” one of the players asks.
“The fuck you talkin’ about?” Stephen says. “I barely met my new best friend tonight. We do live in the same building though.”
“Yeah?” Paul says.
“Seen you in the lobby the last few days.”
“Okay, that’s why you look familiar.”
Dealer puts down the flop. Big blind checks. Stephen bets 60. Paul raises to 120. Big blind raises to 200.
“Take my money,” Stephen says and mucks his cards.
Paul calls.
Turn card comes. Big blind checks. Paul bets 300. Big blind calls.
Dealer puts down the river card. Big blink checks.
Paul counts to thirty in his head and says, “All in.”
Big blind thinks about it for a minute and calls.
“I’ve got the nuts.” Paul shows AQ for the best possible hand.
“The fuckin’s nuts again,” the big blind says what everyone is thinking.
“Don’t go fuckin’ around with Paulie’s nuts!” Stephen cackles. “Paulie Nuts! That’s what I’m calling you from now on.”
“Jeez. Just Paul is fine.”
The dealer says, “I prefer Paulie Nuts over Just Paul. I have an uncle who’s a judge here in town. His nickname is Just Jim. Even with alliteration it’s not that cool.”
“Dealer’s ruling stands,” Stephen says.
“Christ, my last name is actually Lee.”
Laughter from the table.
“Let’s go get a drink somewhere,” Stephen tells Paul. He tosses his motorcycle keys to the dealer. “Put it in the bar or ride it home later.”
“It’s a nice truck,” Stephen says as he settles into the passenger seat. “You had it long?”
“Yeah. My father got it for me when I was in high school. Hey, put on your seat belt.”
“Safety first. You been to Sam’s?”
“Nah. You have to give me directions.”
“Head up the hill.”
Sam’s is less than five minutes away. It’s a rail bar with slot machines on one side, a pool table in the back and one in the adjacent room. There are pictures of locals behind the bar and pool league plaques in back near the bathrooms.
Paul and Stephen take seats near the entrance, and the bartender nods at them while pouring shooters for a group at the other end.
“Stinky!” a woman yells across the crowd.
“Fuckin’ shit!” Stephen says. He throws up a middle finger.
“Terms of endearment?” Paul asks.
“What can I help you with?” the bartender Cody asks.
“I’ll do a Coors and shot of Jameson. Cody, this is Paulie Nuts. I’ll get his drinks tonight.”
“Nah, winner buys. I’ll do the same, though,” Paul says.
“I won some, too.”
“Let’s not fight over the tab,” Cody says. “I’ll get the first round. Welcome to Butte, Mr. Nuts.”
Cody sets down two beers and pours three shots of Jameson.
“To Paulie Nuts!” Stephen cheers.
Paul shakes his head and shoots the whiskey. Paul looks down the bar and locks his eye on the prettiest woman in the room. “Who’s the brunette?”
“You don’t want to know her,” Stephen says.
“That bad?”
“Known her almost all my life. She’ll break your heart. Hey, I heard you’re opening a bar in town.”
“Restaurant. Bar. We’ll see how it turns out.”
“Don’t get too fancy. People up here have their habits.”
“Stinky!” the brunette says behind Stephen.
Stephen jumps a little.
“Who’s this?” she asks.
“Paulie Nutssss!” Stephen says.
“Just Paul is fine.”
“You’re not a fuckin’ judge, are you?”
“No, I’m-”
“I’m fuckin’ you. No, I mean I’m fuckin’ with you. Let’s do a shot.”
She motions to Cody.
“How’d you meet Stinky, Paul?”
“We were playing cards.”
“Hope you took all his money. Don’t listen to what he says about me. He’s a fat stinky liar.”
Cody sets down shots and she takes hers before walking back across the bar.
“So, Stinky, huh?”
“Everyone in this town has at least two nicknames.”
“What’s hers?”
“Crazy. That bitch. Scandalous. Dummy. Slutty.”
“Damn, what do you call her?”
“Sera. She’s my little sister and she will fuck you up. Fair warning.”
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