Date: Sat, 20 Sep 2003 13:41:05 +0100
From: Angela Mynah <angela_mynah@msn.com>
Subject: Back in the hole

Back In The Hole   (the Gambler part two)

by Angela Mynah

Angela_mynah@msn.com

This story refers to cross generational sex of a homosexual nature.
If this story is illegal in your area or you are offended by such stories,
leave now.
This story is fictional. My father cannot even play 'Snap'


Back in the Hole.

     What some people do, sometimes begs belief. I was watching my dad
getting deeper and deeper into debt yet again. He had markers down on the
table for nearly a thousand pounds again. I had been sitting on his lap for
a while, watching him throw good money after bad. I had to move.

     It was Uncle Clive who was winning all dads money and I could see him
looking at me, though leering at me would be a better description. I decided
to sit on Uncle Eric's lap instead of Dad's. Eric smiled. He seemed to like
to have me there. He still felt bad about suggesting to Dad that I was used
as security for his debts.

     Nobody knew what Uncle Clive had done with me and it was a promise that
I had made, that I would never tell anyone. Somehow I needed to threaten to
break that promise if Uncle Clive kept beating Dad. I stayed with Uncle Eric
for a few hands more as I tried to think of a way to help Dad without
actually cheating.

     It was interesting watching Dad from somebody else's lap. I could read
him like a book. I had no idea why he bothered to hide his hand. Even as he
picked up his cards and looked at them for the first time, I could see if he
had a good hand. A half smile meant he had a rubbish hand. No smile and it
was a fair set of cards.

     If he tried to look nonchalant, as if he had half a mind to fold, it
was a good hand and lastly, if he cleared his throat, it was a really good
hand, When he cleared his throat every one would fold, unless they were
holding a great hand. Dad would win a couple of quid then go on to lose
hundreds.

     Once in a while dad would win a reasonable amount back. The others were
doing this to keep him in the game but ultimately he would lose. Uncle Clive
was working on him now. I knew what was going to happen if that man won, he
would try to buy favours from me. I needed him to lose.

     Uncle Eric cuddled me up to him, I could feel his breath in my hair. I
thought I felt him take a long sniff at my hair, maybe he did, maybe he
didn't. I was not sure. The way he was holding me, and hugging me was nice,
not the same as Uncle Clive, Uncle Eric was being affectionate, I was
enjoying it. I had been brought up to call any adult Uncle or Aunty, whether
they were related or not. None of the players here were related to me,
except Dad of course.

    "Hey young fella, you should be sitting on your Dad's lap, or your Uncle
Clive's. A nice lad like you could put a man off his game."

      That was it. Well it was at least an answer of sorts. I would be a
distraction at the critical times. Although I would hate it, I was sure it
would be worth it.

     To say that Uncle Clive was surprised that I should go to him and sit
on his lap was an understatement. He was amazed. He cuddled me too him and
sat closer to the table. I could not get from his lap now unless I asked him
to move back. I was trapped and he knew it, but what he had not bargained on
was that I was where I needed to be, doing what I needed to do.

     "Clive, do you still 'own' Patrick or has that all been settled?"

     "No Eric, all the debt was paid in full within twenty four hours, never
had a chance to use my slave boy. Pity, the car needed a good wash and I
ended up doing it myself. My lawn needs cutting now so ... well lets wait and
see."

     This was good. I knew that Clive didn't want me for that sort of work,
I knew exactly what he wanted me for. My sitting on his lap had led him to
believe that I was starting to like, or at least tolerate, his advances.
"Dream on mister" I thought.

     I looked at Uncle Clive's hand. It was a full house. Dad was sitting
with a fair hand. I knew that, we all did. Common sense prevailed and Dad
stacked his hand. Now I could start to play.  I had seen that all the
players would smile and even chat a bit as the cards were dealt. I had also
seen that they all looked at Dad when he picked up. Yes I was not alone in
what I had noticed.

     Uncle Clive had put his hand on my thigh as the hands were dealt. Just
as Dad went to pick up his hand I gave Uncle Clive a big toothy smile. He
looked at me and smiled back I heard Dad clear his throat but as I looked
into those big brown eyes of Uncle's, I could see he had missed it.

      Uncle sat there with three kings and two rubbish. He looked across at
dad. Dad was wearing the half smile that said his hand was rubbish, he
always did after clearing his throat. I was right. Uncle Clive had missed
that small cough. I wanted the betting to go high so I let Uncles hand drift
up my thigh and rest on my lap. I put my hand on top of his, resting it on
my little member. I was starting to go hard and I knew he could feel it
growing.

      The betting was big, Dad put two more markers on the table, now making
it to fifteen hundred pounds he owed. Uncle put a large wad onto the table
raising the stake to five hundred pounds. He wanted me and he reckoned that
two thousand owed by dad would be enough to get me. He knew Dad was bluffing
and this bet would force him to throw in his hand.

      I couldn't look at Dad. I knew that his hand would beat Uncles but he
was not so sure. It would cost Dad a thousand to see Uncle and I could
almost hear his mind telling him to fold. The next few seconds took hours.
Eventually Dad reached for a pen. As he started to write Uncle Clive smiled.
He reckoned it was the best acting he had seen from my Dad.

     "Well there's my marker for one thousand pounds. Sorry Clive but I will
have to see you"

     "Well here we go again Jack, looks like my lawn will get cut after all.
That is unless you can beat three kings."

     Clive laughed as he went to collect his booty, pressing me against the
table as he leaned forwards.

     "Yes I've got that beaten Clive, so you can take your grubby mitts of
the cash. Ok?"

     Clive was genuinely taken aback.

     "What do you mean 'you've got it beaten', your holding rubbish!"

     "It's a straight Clive, a straight, and I think you might find in most
card schools, that beats three of a kind."

     It gave Dad great pleasure laying his cards face up on the table and
watching Clive blink at each one. Suddenly Dad was back in the game. He had
most of his markers back and the rest he bought back, there and then. Clive
looked totally deflated. I actually enjoyed sitting on his lap for those few
moments, but I knew this was a temporary respite, I knew that dad would be
out of his depth again sometime quite soon.

    My Golden opportunity to get a safety line seemed to offer its self to
me just two hands later. Uncle Clive had been absentmindedly gently stroking
me through my shorts. I didn't like it but needed to be consistent with him
so I let him carry on. Uncle Eric was about to light up a cigarette but
dropped his lighter on the floor. He went to pick it up. As he did so I took
my hands away to my sides, revealing Uncle Clive's activities. When Uncle
Eric got back to his chair I could see the shocked look on his face as he
first looked as Clive then at me.

     He was about to speak but he could see that I was looking directly at
him and shaking my head "No". He remained quiet but could see my
embarrassment. I could see 'guilt' written all over his face now. He had
been the one to suggest that I was used as security. He had been the one
saying how some men would pay well for an hour with a ten year old boy. He
had been the one who had put me in this position, every bit as much as my
Dad had been. He, like my Dad, had had no suspicions about Uncle Clive. They
had delivered me to him on a plate. Now Uncle Eric realised that he had
also, just ten minutes ago, told me to go sit on my Uncle Clive's lap.

     The score was now turning in my favour, all it needed now was for Uncle
Charles to find out. I had worked out that if I could reach the point where
they each knew, but were unaware that the others knew, I would be holding
all four aces myself. I could play the men off against each other. Dad would
then start winning at cards. All three would be trying to stop Uncle Clive
getting Dad to lend me to him. That was my plan. Like all plans, it started
to fall apart not long after I started executing it.

     Uncle Eric had taken my fear and embarrassment to heart. He was not
going to speak out in front of me. However, three things happened at the
same time. The phone rang, and I needed to go to the toilet. Dad answered
the phone and I went upstairs. The third thing that happened was that Uncle
Clive also wanted the toilet, so he followed me.

     I returned to the table as Uncle Clive went to the loo, I could see
that Charles was shaking slightly and was furious. Dammit, Uncle Eric had
told him. I wondered what would happen next. What happened next accelerated
the issue alarmingly. As Uncle Clive returned from the toilet, Dad came back
from his phone call.

     "I have a major disaster back at the factory, I have to go there now
and I doubt it will be sorted before the morning. I hate to ask this of you
guys but will one of you look after Patrick till tomorrow morning."

     Although they had never been asked to do this before, it would
previously have caused no problem. Now however, it did. Clive offered of
course, his invitation for me to stay at his flat was immediate. The other
two had to think of a way of stopping that happening without it seeming
obvious that they knew. Dad had been expecting Clive's offer but had not yet
come up with a workaround solution. Uncle Charles cut in,

     "Hold on a second Clive, your flat only has one bedroom, Patrick can
stay with me, I have a spare room"

      Dad grabbed at the rescue line,

     "That's very kind of you Charles, I will get Patrick to pack some
things."

     Clive was not to be beaten that easily,

     "That won't be necessary, I will stay here and use your spare room, its
nicer than my flat"

     Dad was floored.

     "Well if you are sure its ok with you Clive, I suppose that is the
easiest solution"

     I knew dad could do nothing about the situation , but unlike him I also
knew that Uncle Charles and Uncle Eric would not let it rest at that. Then
he had the idea that would ease my predicament enormously.

     "Well don't let this spoil the card evening, you know where the bottles
are and the kitchen, treat it like your own home, help yourselves."

      It was a fine offer and was taken up quickly, much to Clive's
disappointment. He didn't know it yet but this was going to be s long night
for him. Eric and Charles would see to that.

     Dad left for the factory and though now down to three players the game
recommenced.   To get to the chair where dad had been sitting, I was going
to have to walk passed Charles then Clive. As I did so I saw Clive get ready
to sit me on his lap again, Charles beat him to it.

     "Come here Patrick, mine is the only lap that you haven't sat on yet"

     He scooped me into his lap leaving Clive empty handed. I sat there for
nearly three quarters of an hour as the game of poker carried on. Clive was
now loosing badly, he was unaware that the other two now knew about his
desires for me. Had he known, he would have seen that he was playing against
two people who were playing as one.

     The evening wore on, It was at about ten o'clock in the evening that
Clive looked at me and said,

     "Well young man, we are supposed to be looking after you, and here it
is, late at night and you not tucked in bed yet. You go up and get to bed,
one of us will come up and tuck you in very shortly."

     I said good night to all three of them and went upstairs. I must have
broken all the records for the speed in which I was ready for bed. I had
reckoned that Uncle Clive would come up very soon, hoping to watch me
undress, I was right, The disappointment showed on his face as he walked
into my bedroom without knocking on the door. He found me already in bed,
face washed and teeth brushed.

     "Well well well, who is the good little boy then, You did get into bed
quickly."

     He came over to me and sat on the side of my bed. I saw his hand
disappear as it went under the bedclothes and I couldn't help but shiver as
I felt it slide inside my pyjama bottoms. He started to rub my little boy
meat and it grew to its full two and a half inches from his attention. He
looked at me,

     "You like that don't you. I know you do"

     I tried to keep as quiet as I could as I replied in a small voice,

     "No Uncle, please don't do that, I don't like it. It makes me want to
wee wee."

     I was crying now, tears freely running down the side of my face. I was
scared. I knew I had led him on , sitting on his lap downstairs. I knew I
had encouraged him, but I had done it to take his attention from Dad. Now I
could see it was payback time.

     "Awww come on Patrick, it's a lovely feeling, and its not wee wee that
you feel, its something else"

     A low growl came from my bedroom door.

     "I think the young lad has made it more than clear to you that he does
not like what you are doing to him. If you stop now, there is a chance, a
small chance that I will forget what I am seeing, after I have had a little
word in your 'shell like' that is."

     Uncle Clive went as white as any sheet as he turned to my bedroom door
and saw Uncle Eric there, who had been watching his every move.

     "Leave the child alone and come down stairs NOW, or the boy will
witness something else that no lad of his age should see."

     The threat was hardly veiled and I suddenly became even more
frightened. What the hell had I started here? There was no way I wanted to
see anybody get in a fight but I had no idea of how to stop the impending
conflict. Still pale Uncle Clive left my room. The two of them went down
stairs back into the living room. On the one hand I was very frightened
about the goings on down stairs, on the other I had the natural curiosity of
a ten year old boy.

     Violence had always terrified me. When I was five a man broke into our
house late at night. It woke us all up. Dad challenged him on the staircase
and a fight had broken out. I ran out from my bedroom to go to Mum and Dad
for safety, but my way was blocked by Dad and this stranger locked in
combat. Mum had rushed to me and tried to stop me seeing what was happening.
I still saw though. I saw this horrid man beat the living daylights out of
my dad.

     It had not taken long. Dad was sprawled on the floor, his face covered
in blood. My mother screamed as the intruder approached us, one blow from
his right fist silenced her as she too, fell to the floor. The man grabbed
me and taking the cord from my dad's dressing gown he tied my hands behind
my back. Being only five years old and small even for that, there was enough
of the cord left dangling for him to secure my ankles too. He stripped my
pyjama bottoms from me and using one of the legs he tied it round my head
forming a gag before tying my ankles together  This left me lying on my side
on the floor. It was obvious that I was in considerable pain and distress.
The man went to Mum and Dad's room and took all the valuables he could find.
Then, seeing a bed side chair and seeing me in such pain he brought the
chair out to me. It was surprising but he untied my wrists sat me on the
chair. He took off my pyjama top and used it to tie my hands again. The cord
was used to secure my ankles to the chair. I was bound and gagged and going
nowhere when Mum woke up.

     Her attacking him was a brave but futile attempt at rescuing me. He
raped her. In front of me, her little baby boy, he forcibly raped her. He
knew that there could be no survivors from this attack now, any one of the
three of us could identify him. After he satisfied his lust on her, ignoring
her pleadings for mercy, he throttled the very life out of her.

     He looked at me. I stared into his eyes like a frightened rabbit. It
was as he came to me that Dad rushed him from behind. This time he smashed
into the man and both of them went crashing down stairs. It went quiet,
there was complete hush in the house bar my own unstoppable whimpering, the
only sound the gag permitted.

     Ours is not a large house and the amount of screaming and crashing
about had disturbed our neighbours. One of them had called the police. I
heard the sirens as they arrived and the knocking on the door as they
shouted out demanding entry. Eventually I heard the splintering of wood as
they smashed the door down. One officer got onto his radio and called for an
ambulance as he looked at the two bodies at the bottom of the stairs, one of
which was unconscious the other dead from a broken neck.

     All that had happened five years ago The coroners verdicts on the two
deaths were that my mother was killed unlawfully and the intruders demise
went down as 'Death by misadventure' My Dad was exonerated and even was
given a small award from the courts.

     As I said a few moments ago, Violence terrified me and given my
history, that was hardly surprising. However, I still couldn't resist going
down stairs. It is that strange compulsion to see that which frightens you.
I crept down the stairs and peered into the room. What I saw took me back
those five years. All the counselling I had had, all the psychiatric help I
had been given evaporated like the morning dew. I froze in the doorway.

     Uncle Clive was naked and tied to a chair, his trousers had been used
to make a gag and his hands were secured by using his shirt as a rope. Uncle
Eric and Uncle Charles had no knowledge of my experience other than my
witnessing my mums murder. They stood with their backs to me as they
discussed what punishment they would inflict on Uncle Clive.

     Clive could see me standing there, frozen to the spot. but his attempts
to tell the other two of my presence was mistaken for him pleading for
forgiveness. I must have stood there for nearly five minutes still as a
statue and silent as a grave as the two men talked about Clive's fate. It
was when they agreed that to rape him would teach him a lesson he would
never forget, that a tiny voice behind them made them spin around.

     One word that had been branded into my mind was 'rape'. At ten years
old I knew exactly what it meant and what it looked like. In that small
voice all I did was to repeat their last two words that had registered with
me.

     "Rape him"

     It is staggering to the point of unbelievable stupidity what the two
men did next. They didn't see that I was in shock, they even thought it a
good idea if I witnessed Uncle Clive's punishment. It would show me that
they really cared about me. They were certain that when I had said 'rape
him' it was my request. I was sat on one of the chairs for over an hour
while Clive was 'taught the error of his ways'. It was only when they had
both finished that they turned to me. They did not understand what they saw.

     I was still sat in the chair, I was still totally silent, but tears
were cascading down my face. My eyes were open but unblinking. My mouth was
open as if screaming but no noise came from it. Saliva dripped freely from
it mixing on my front with the tears. I was shaking as if from some fever.
In short, I was a wreck. With nothing said the two men just stared at me in
abject horror.

     "Ohhh Jeeez, what the hell have we done to the kid?"

      While Charles knelt by my side Eric untied and ungagged  Clive. He too
was shaking and sobbing, but only partly for himself. He looked at Eric.

     "You stupid shit, Look what you've done to the boy"

     He pushed his way passed Eric and pretty well barged Charles out of the
way. He picked me up and hugged me tightly to him.

     "There now, there now, there now. Don't be frightened, I am all right.
Its all a silly game that we three play. Uncle Charles and Uncle Eric
wouldn't do anything to hurt me, We're all friends"

     Uncle Clive continued to hold me tightly as he sat down on the couch,
he rocked me gently in his arms and after about half an hour I had stopped
shaking. I still sobbed but the worst of my fear was spent. I actually felt
safe in Uncle Clive's arms, even though he was naked. Somehow that didn't
seem to matter any more.

     He was still holding me in his arms as he, with Eric's and Charles'
assistance, dressed. They were all talking in hushed voices about how they
all liked each other really and how they were so naughty playing their silly
games especially when I was there.

     There was another problem that their noses told them needed fixing. I
had been so terrified at what I had seen that I had messed my pyjamas, and
not just urine either. I was holding on to Uncle Clive so tight that nobody
thought I should be made to release him. I had buried my face into his neck
with my arms wrapped around his chest. He had one arm round my back and the
other hooked under my legs. He was getting pretty messy like that too.

     Gradually the three men managed to undress me and with me still in
Clive's arms, they managed to clean me up. Now I was the naked one but still
it seemed not to matter. Eventually I managed to speak.

     "Were they going to kill you uncle Clive? Were they going to squeeze
your neck?"

     "No of course not Patrick, what a thing to say! We are all friends
here, why do you think they might want to do that?"

     "Because that's what the man did to Mummy" I whimpered.

     All three of them knew that Dad was a widower, and that my mother had
been murdered, but none of them knew all the details. Dad had never been
able to tell people much because so most of it happened when he was
unconscious. His memory of the events was pretty well non existent. He had
never spoken to me about it and I had never told anybody else what I had
seen except the Psychiatrist and I was too shocked to tell him a lot. It was
thought best if it were left to burn itself out.

     "How do you know what the man did to your mummy?" Clive asked.

     "Cos' I watched him do it, he tied me to a chair and hurt mummy in
front of me. First he did rude things with her and then he squeezed her neck
and stopped her being my mummy any more"

     I had never told anyone all the details I couldn't. every time I had
tried, I started either crying or screaming. But now I was in a form of
shock, now I was telling the whole story. I was seeing the whole incident
again but this time I was cold, I had no emotion what so ever.

     All three men listened closely as I sat naked on Clive's lap. I
described the rape in fine detail albeit using the words I understood. I
told of the strangling of my mother in a flat monotone voice. They heard how
as the intruder approached me he was saying,

     "Well I might as well fuck you too while I am here."

     It all came out. The brave attempt of my mother and the final fight
with my Dad. I described how I was gagged and tied mainly with my own
clothes. Eric was the first to realise that he had tied Clive up, not only
in exactly the same way but in the same chair as I had been. I wasn't crying
I wasn't shaking, the words just flowed. When I had finished, it was the
three men who were in shock. They were the ones crying, they were the ones
shaking.

     "This little man needs to go to bed."

     It was Clive who had recovered first. I was still on his lap but my
clinging had weakened somewhat. He had looked at his watch and it was one in
the morning. He stood up not letting go of me.

     "Would you sleep with me please Uncle Clive?"

     "Are you sure you want me to? One of the others will if you like."

     I hugged Uncle Clive back tightly and he understood.  I had just
witnessed him being used by the other two, it was ironic that he was now the
one I felt safe with. Eric and Charles also saw this and through their shame
and red faces they indicated to Clive that this would be acceptable under
the circumstances, they were pretty sure that Clive was not going to do
anything to upset me further. As Clive got into bed with me and I spooned
into his warm cuddle, the other two put my soiled laundry in the washer and
generally cleared up.

     I opened my eyes, it was dark. I felt a hand gently massaging my tiny
meat. I could hear snoring from behind me. Was Clive fondling me in his
sleep? Or maybe he was just pretending to be asleep. One of his arms was
resting over my shoulder and I could  just make out the shape of his hand on
top of the duvet. His other hand was under my pillow, I could feel it, yet
still there was somebody fondling me. I could see in the dim light the
shadow of an arm reaching from the floor under the sheets, it now was
holding my willy and rubbing it. I knew that who ever it was, he had sneaked
in and was lying on the floor. I edged to the side of the bed and peered
into the gloom, straight into the dead gaze of Mummy, her blue tongue
hanging from her mouth.

     I sat bolt upright in bed and screamed at the top of my voice. The
lights went on at once. I was still screaming as Clive grabbed me and
cuddled me to him, Eric rushed into the room and somehow Charles was already
there. I screamed again and again. Both men looked at Clive he was hugging
me and shaking his head "no" I was crying out for my mummy I wanted her, I
had seen her, I wanted her, I wanted my mummy.

     It took some minutes to calm me, only then did they start asking
questions. Clive was immediately under suspicion from Eric but Charles told
him that Clive was in the clear.

     "How do you know Charles, how can you be so sure?"

     "Because I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of what we put the kid
through and I couldn't sleep. Eventually I went down stairs, got this chair
and sat in here to make sure the lad was ok. Patrick was having a nightmare,
I could tell. He suddenly started tossing and turning then sat up and
screamed. This is all our fault you know, we have opened up his mind and
brought the whole fucking lot crashing back into that pretty little head of
his. God only knows what damage we have done"

     Clive started whispering things in my ear about how he would stay near
me and not let anything nasty happen to me. He hugged me close and lay down
next to me.

     "Eric, Close the door as you go out, we must get some sleep. Charles, I
think it's a good idea of yours to stay by the door all night, stop any
nasties getting in, would you mind doing it for the rest of the night?"

     Clive saw that Charles had saved his bacon. It would have been a hard
job convincing the pair of them that he had not interfered with me, but with
him acting as a door guard, he was safe. He looked at me and I smiled a
sleepy smile as the mantle of darkness once again carried me off to the land
of nod.

     It was starting to get light when I woke again. Charles had brought his
chair right over to the bed and was looking at me. He smiled acknowledging
that I was awake. Uncle Clive was snoring again.

    "I'm surprised you could sleep with all that noise. He does sound funny
doesn't he?"

     "Yes he does, but I don't mind. Why did you hurt him yesterday?"

     "We didn't really hurt him, he liked what we did, but we knew you
didn't like what he was doing with you, and what we did stopped him. Would
you like to sit on my lap for a while so we don't wake him up?"

     As I carefully got out of bed Uncle Charles, moved the chair away from
the bed just a little. I was still naked but I no longer cared very much,
they had all seen me now. I walked to him and sat on his lap.

     "Thank you for being by the door last night. I was frightened."

     "That's OK Patrick, I guess we owe you that. What is it that Uncle
Clive does to you though? I really don't understand. I know you said
something about 'rude things' but I don't know what you mean."

     "He wants me to take all my clothes off in front of him and then he
wants me to sit on his lap while he fiddles with my thingy"

     "Well you have all your clothes off now and you are sitting on my lap,
you don't seem too worried about it. What was he doing? What do you mean
'Fiddling'?"

     I was suddenly aware of several things all at once, I had gone all
stiffy while talking to Uncle Charles, He was casually fingering my balls
and Uncle Clive was no longer snoring. He was awake and watching us. I also
realised that Uncle Charles was naked too. He guided my hand onto his willy
and got me to rub it gently. Uncle Clive got out of bed, dropped his
underpants and knelt beside us, taking me in his mouth. I couldn't believe
what was happening.

     I tried to get up but they held me there. I cried out a bit but
remembered the gag that was used on Uncle Clive.

     "So this is what you all get up too when I'm not about eh?"

     Uncle Eric walked in. He saw what was happening and quickly stripped
off. They laid me on the bed and while Uncle Clive went back to work on me
with his mouth Uncle Charles had me using both hands on his pole. Uncle Eric
started to put his into my mouth.

     "No...   NO...   NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

     I screamed and sat upright. I was alone in the room and the sunshine
was streaming in through the window. Three fully dressed men crashed through
the door all at once, all jamming into each other and all trying to get to
me as fast as they could. I had stopped shouting 'no' at the top of my voice
but I was crying frantically. I looked at them all as they fell over each
other to reach me. They were a tangled mess of idiots scrummaging about on
the floor all telling me they were coming and that I was alright. If I
hadn't been so confused I would have laughed. By the time they had all got
up I was sitting on the side of my bed.

     "Dress him and take him down stairs. Get some food into him and we will
have a council of war about this. It mustn't be allowed to carry on. Clive,
you wash and dress him, you are on your word of honour here, and you
Charles, you go find what kiddo here eats for brekkie and get some ready."

     Washed and dressed (with no funny business) I was taken downstairs. I
was given some coco pops breakfast cereal and I managed to eat two helpings.
I had now calmed down completely. Things relaxed. It was Saturday morning
and there was little else to be done for now other than play a hand or two
of cards, while they waited for dad.

     I sat in Dad's seat to watch and as Clive dealt he absent mindedly
dealt me in. Eric said he couldn't open and I said the same. It was only
then they realised what they had done. After much laughter Clive said it was
a misdeal and started to pull the cards back in and start again. I looked at
them with my best puppy dog eyes.

     "Please can I play"

     "You don't have any money to bet with Patrick, it cant be played
without money and betting, its that sort of a game"

     Clive came up with a suggestion. He put it to the others that for maybe
just a few rounds I could play with ten percent of the bet, Ten pence from
me would equal one pound of their money. If I won a hand or two and built a
bit of a stash then I would play on an equal footing. He would lend me ten
pounds to start in the game. If I it got up to fifty then I would play pound
for pound till it was back down to ten pounds. That way I would learn the
game and they need not feel guilty at winning from me.

     It was agreed that this was not a bad idea. The worst case was that my
dad would owe Clive ten pounds if I lost the lot. I was in and the cards
were re dealt. I had a pair of Jacks, an ace a five and a nine. Eric opened
and we all stayed in. on my turn I changed two cards (five and nine) getting
another ace and a king. I stayed in but looking at Charles' face I knew he
had better cards than I so I folded next time round. He won the hand with
three of a kind. Charles was one who breath with their feelings. As he
looked at his cards he would breath in but the time it took him to breath
out showed his hand. The longer the better.

     I quickly learned that Clive was one of these players who would look at
his final hand once then place his hand down and straighten his cards. He
would not touch them again till it was show or fold time. The longer he took
straightening his cards the worse his hand.

     Eric I could not read. I could see no little habits. I looked, trying
to find some small giveaway sign, I watched him like a hawk. I saw nothing.
Next hand I was dealt two twos and two sixes with a king. Eric changed one
card, so did I. Charles also changed one card and exhaled for a 'reasonable'
hand. Clive changed one and after a quick look put his hand face down and
didn't straighten them at all for a moment then he too gave me his sign, he
moved his cards and gave them a medium to short straightening. I looked at
the card I had drawn, it was a third two. I had a full house, twos on sixes.
It was the lowest full house you could get but a full house was a good hand
in anyone's book. I knew Clive was sitting with a fairly good hand.

     Clive raised the stake and I raised him back. I didn't get silly, he
raised the going from one to five pounds. I raised him by a further five
pounds. It would cost him twenty pounds to see me.

     "I will be kind laddie, what have you got I will see you"

     He leaned back in his chair as if to say to the others 'I wont take the
kid for too much' then leaned forwards again and looked at my full house.

     "What did you have Uncle Clive, a straight or was it a flush?"

     "You should never ask what the other player had, but as you are new to
this, I will tell you, I had a flush"

     The cards were collected and it was Eric's deal. He was just about to
deal when he froze and looked at me. Then he looked at Clive. He was about
to say something when he thought better of it. He looked back at me and gave
me the widest grin I had ever seen. He dealt I had ace high but 3 were
clubs, I held them and even after the change I had rubbish. I folded. I
watched Uncle Eric carefully but still I could not read him.

     I reckoned that the next win I had, if I had one would put me playing
for pound for pound. It was my deal. I paused.

     "If I win the next hand I will be over fifty pounds up so would be
playing pound for pound yes?

     The men nodded their heads in agreement, rather happy that I understood
the concessions made to me. I smiled sweetly to them all and repaid Clive
the ten pounds I owed him. This action took me back down a lot further below
the threshold. They all saw the loophole I had used and burst out laughing.
I could only do it once but I had seen it and taken it. I had my hair
ruffled by each of them as they enjoyed my having seen something that Clive
had not. Uncle Clive took it well though. I dealt and it was a quick round,
only one good hand , every one else folded. I showed my openers and took the
small amount in the pot

     The door opened and in walked a very tired Dad. He looked at us, said
'good luck' and went to bed.

     Uncle Charles dealt. I watched as Uncle Eric picked up his cards.
Nothing given away. I looked at my cards for the first time, then
immediately looked at Uncle Eric. He was looking at me. We grinned at each
other. Now I wondered if I had any tell tale signs. I was sitting on three
of a kind.

     Uncle Clive changed two cards and Uncle Eric changed one. I looked
again at my hand and decided to throw a red herring in the arena. I could
feel Uncle Eric looking at me as I told the dealer that I would change
nothing. I looked at Eric, he was chuckling, I knew then that he could read
me like a book, I had to find out how.

     We carried on playing for quite a long time, all three had stopped
treating me like a kid, I had about two hundred pounds in front of me, just
under half from Uncle Charles and the rest from Uncle Clive. Not a penny had
I won from Uncle Eric opening pots excepted. The money was moving round the
table but the trend was in my favour.

     "Good morning Gentlemen, or rather Good afternoon."

     Dad had walked in the room looking much refreshed for his sleep. He
looked at the four of us then his jaw hit the floor as he realised that not
only was I holding a hand of cards but also had nearly three hundred pounds
in front of me. After the initial shock he decided to say nothing and see
what would happen, He asked to rejoin the game, and sat between Uncle Clive
and Uncle Eric.

     "Who's deal is it now Uncle Eric? Yours or Dad's? Uncle Clive dealt
last."

     "Well now Patrick. First off I will deal, technically your dad should
have sat to the right of the last dealer, but it doesn't really matter here,
we are all friends together. More importantly, you are sitting at a table of
men, playing a mans game, I think you can drop the 'uncle' bit, call me
Eric. You have earned that."

     I had never felt so proud or grown up before My chest must have puffed
out a mile and my head must have swelled to match. The other two joined in
saying I was to call them Clive and Charles. I looked at dad, he looked very
proud of me.

    It was a few hands later when I could see a problem. Charles, Eric and I
had folded. Dad was playing off Clive again. I knew that Clive had the
beating of Dad but that Dads hand was quite good. I had to sit there blank
faced and watch Dad throw away a lot of money, even down to writing out a
marker again. He lost the hand and was in debt to fifty pounds. I had to
watch every agonising step. If I had so much as breathed differently, it
could have been thought that I was warning dad. I couldn't leave the room, I
just had to stay put. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. It was only
when the hands were laid face up could I allow myself to groan.

     Even then I couldn't say anything. The only comfort I could take was
that I knew that Eric knew what I was going through. The game continued for
another hour or so before everybody had had enough. I sat there with just
over three hundred pounds plus a marker from Clive. Dad ended the day up too
albeit only slightly. Eric had really cleaned up. I had made only two
mistakes, or rather one mistake twice.

     On two occasions I thought I had Eric beaten. He led me like a lamb to
the slaughter both times. Had I not done that I would have had a lot more in
front of me. A lesson Dad had taught me some years back was how to win and
how to lose. It stood me in good stead and everybody seemed impressed when,
having lost a lot of money, I carried on and enjoyed the game.

     Dad was in the kitchen getting some food ready when Eric asked me to
sit next to him on the couch. The other two men were in the kitchen helping
Dad.

     "Patrick, young man. I have a little deal to offer you. Last night
things went terribly wrong. We did things in front of you that we should
certainly not have done. Your father would be furious if he found out all,
or even any of what happened. I want to ask you to say nothing to him, or
anyone else, about it. I know that's a lot to ask, but I really would like
it if you gave me your word that you will try to forget all about it"

     WOW, giving a grown up my word. For the second time that day I felt so
big and so grown up. I put on my most earnest face.

     "Eric, you have my word that I won't tell anybody anything about it
ever"

     "Thank you Patrick, now I told you I had a deal to offer, you have
given your word so I will tell you something that may go on to cost me a lot
of money one day. Stop biting your lip when you look at your cards. The
harder the bite the better your cards.

     "I know you watch everybody and I know you have seen other peoples
signs. You are one of the few people I know who do this, you are a natural.
I was very impressed with you when your Dad lost against Clive, that was a
very brave thing to do. I was watching to see if you would warn him, and you
didn't. Well done. I was well aware that you knew who would win that hand.
I'm afraid Everyone can read your dad. If you chose to tell him that, its up
to you. What I will advise you against, is ever telling anybody about
reading someone else."

     As grown up as I was feeling right then, I didn't feel too grown up to
snuggle under Eric's arm. He cuddled me to him. We were in that position
when Dad came out of the Kitchen, holding my pyjamas in his hands.

     "These were in the washing machine, is there anything I should know?
What did Patrick sleep in last night? I am not sure I can hold my temper if
the name 'Clive' comes up in the explanation"

     "Don't worry Jack, Clive was as good as gold last night. There was a
small incident that required those to go in the washer. Patrick slept in the
raw but nothing untoward happened"

     "Nothing? Are you sure? It used to be that if Patrick slept naked, he
would have nightmares. Usually of ,shall we say, an adult theme, and
involving his grandfather. A man not welcome in this house."

     "Hmmm well we did have a somewhat restless night, I wasn't going to
mention it, I thought it was perhaps because you were away."

     Dad let the matter drop and I carried my pygies back upstairs. The face
I showed said 'Butter wouldn't melt' the face Eric showed said "The hell it
wouldn't"

TBC



That was   'Back in the hole'    by Angela Mynah

angela_mynah@msn.com

All comments welcome, even flamers. Its being ignored I can't stand.

Please do e-mail me, I get a lot of my ideas from what you say. (including
corrections about the game Poker)