Jack Of Diamonds, King Of Hearts

As they taunted ‘call’ at him, a Jack of Diamonds leaped from the sleeve of his beaten tan leather overcoat and into his hand. The men stared in anticipation as he threw his hand up in the air, landing perfectly in formation card after card in the centre of the table. “Din’t y’all think I could win you?” He pushed the chair back from the comfort of his rear and stood, hands cupped to receive his winnings. “And with that, Sirs, I bid you a bonne nuit. The night is a lady, and she’s callin’ my name.”

           

            Staff in hand he walked languidly down the hall through the throng on gambling people to his left and right. “Not so fast” a voice uttered from behind him. “Remy”, she looked at him; eyes lost in his purplesque irises for a moment. “Remy” she spoke again, he didn’t turn. “Mademoiselle, I have no business with you no more.” “Daddy.” She spoke again in hushed tones. Gambit turned to look at her, his eyes glowed, and then he was gone.

 

            “Why’d she call me that?” Gambit asked himself, as he gazed at her through the skylight window of the casino. “It cannot be…” He pulled a Jack of Diamonds out from under his sleeve. “Are you playin’ jokes on me again?” he asked the card, staring at it compulsively, looking for answers. He jumped off the roof and landed on the stone cobbled path below, everything flying away as he retracted his staff.

 

            Knowing that it couldn’t possibly be true, Gambit decided to pursue his final hand of the night. As he took one last glance through the window, he stopped in his tracks. His hands tightened around his staff and his eyes glowing. All the windows smashed around him with several items hovering by his sides. Everyone in the casino stared at him with surprise and he knew he was drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He also knew he should flee the scene but something kept him there.

 

            They came to the doorway. “Hello Remy”, she spoke, with that soft tone. “What’dya doin’ here?” his asked immediately. “Not even a hello?” she asked. “Hello, what’dya doin’ here?” he asked again “This is your daughter Remy”, pushing the teenager towards him. “Go to bed!” he shouted as he turned to walk away. “Don’t you walk away from me again, Remy LeBeau”. He turned around ready to say something but he was lost for words, his heart captured by the moonlight shining on that white streak of hair. “Anna, this ain’t your scene,” he said with authority. “ And neither is it yours… ‘Gambit’, she replied.