Chapter 11

The van was parked in the alley behind JJ's house. It was a nondescript, dark blue/grey, seven year old Chevy van on a ¾ ton long chassis. There were sliding doors on both sides as if it were meant for a delivery vehicle at one time. It had a slightly battered look from a few feet away. Very close inspection revealed the battered look was only a disguise to ensure casual observers saw what they expected to see in an older van that was obviously not tricked out.

The inside of the van had four captain seats with an additional bench seat at the very back that could fold down into a bed with storage behind the seat and under it. The upholstery and carpeting was a dark grey that complemented the color scheme of the van as a whole. A fold down screen allowed anyone behind the driver's seat to watch a movie from what looked like a state of the art sound and video system mounted in the dash. Jim could tell the speaker system was a fully controlled surround sound system as he turned the radio on flipped through some stations. He was sure it had the power to rattle the windows on both sides of the alley if he turned it up but the quality was so good that, at a low power level, the sound enfolded you.

The real surprise came when Jim started the van and put it in gear. The solid purr of a powerful engine and a matched transmission and rear end ensured the big vehicle was a pleasure to handle.

"It comes with a matching dual axel trailer," Jorge' said with pride when he saw Jim's smile of appreciation.

Jim could see in Jorge's mind why he was so proud. He had been preparing this van for himself. That was why he was so sure it would be clean.

"Jorge'," Jim said in protest as he followed the young Mexican's directions south on Central. "This is your van. I can't take this one. This would be like, well, like when I lost my pickup in the desert."

"No Jim it isn't the same," Jorge' protested calmly. "I saw you lose your truck in the desert in your mind. Your truck was taken from you. You are not taking this van from me. I am giving it to you, for a lot of money of course so you had better win tonight, " he concluded with a smile.

Jorge' hesitated then grinned as he continued. "And now I know how you know you will win. Those gringos's won't even know why they can't beat you."

Jim smiled back a little uncomfortably and said, "I really don't like getting money this way but I don't know of another way to get a lot of money fast and in a very non public way. Getting money like this feels like I am stealing and I am not a thief."

Jorge's grin turned serious when he said, "These men are very bad Jim. The money you win tonight will be money they made from selling drugs and prostitution and a dozen other things that take the life blood from a city. They deserve to lose the money but be careful. They don't like to lose either. I have seen them kill a man after they broke his arms and legs for winning less than you hope to win tonight. I have asked some of my amigos to be around tonight but we will still be badly outnumbered."

"You know how I will win but can you also understand how I can prevent them from attacking me after I win?" Jim asked.

Jorge considered for a moment before saying, "Yes I can." Then he thought, "You can guide their thoughts so they don't want to harm you can't you?" Aloud he asked, "Is that what you did to me when I wanted money from you on the bus Jim?"

"No. At the time on the bus I was just getting used to having Al with me. Remember, that was less than 48 hours after the crash in the desert," Jim said and shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe it has only been four days. Anyway, I could barely guide my own thoughts at the time, much less anyone else's." Jim hesitated a moment at the memory of his first meeting with Jorge' then showed Jorge' exactly what he did with his mind.

"So you see Jorge'. I only looked to see why you were so angry. In the process I learned that you were a good person that had learned to fight back against injustice and the anger was at what you felt you were being forced to do," Jim concluded as he turned another corner in a very bad neighborhood in south Phoenix and parked in a dim parking lot beside a dingy looking bar at Jorge's gestured instructions.

"Yes I do. Thank you Jim," Jorge' said sincerely. "The fact that you can't lie when speaking like this is of great benefit," Jorge' continued in his mind with a smile.

Jim smiled back as they got out of the van and thought back, "That will be the advantage I have tonight. They can try to bluff me but they can't lie to me in their minds. I will need good cards to win but I only need to bet on hands I know I can win."

There were perhaps two dozen blacks and Mexicans in the dingy bar that Jim and Jorge' entered. Jim was more than a little thankful that he was with Jorge' as the young gang banger greeted many of the occupants of the bar by name. The only person Jim recognized in the crowd was Benito Ruiz; a friend of Jorge's who also thought Jim was a holy man.

Benito turned to Jim after greeting Jorge' with a great show of respect and said, "Buenas tardes hombre santo. Estoy aquí para usted si necesita me." Jim heard, "Good evening holy man. I am here for you if you need me."

Jim smiled back at the young man and put one hand on his shoulder as he said, "Thank you Benito for your concern and support. You honor me too much though. I am just a teacher." Benito and everyone around them heard, "Gracias Benito por su preocupación y apoyo. Honrar me demasiado aunque. Yo soy sólo un profesor."

Benito proceeded to introduce Jim to many of the others present. They pressed forward to shake his hand with a high degree of respect. Benito introduced him to each one by first name. Jim would shake their hand, gather their history in his mind, and greet them by full name and add a word of comfort or advice that pertained to their own history. There were a few bad ones but none as bad as Juan Gonzalez that Jim had met the night before. The bad ones in this group were bad because they had been hardened by a hard life. They weren't inherently bad people. Within ten minutes Jim had been introduced to everyone, even the men who were the guards of the man who ran the card game. All of them were in awe of him.

Jorge' smiled slightly and, touching his elbow said, "Jim, we need to go in now. The card game will be starting."

Jim followed Jorge' through a door in the back of the room to a room that was as opulent as the bar had been dingy. Everything was clean and the color scheme was in soft pastels. The room had a feel of peace about it. A bar was on one side of the room with a beautiful black girl serving drinks. Several men with women were standing or sitting around the room on plush couches and love seats. The lighting in most of the room was subdued with the exception of a bright light over a central poker table. Five men were sitting at a table playing a hand of poker and Jorge' stopped about six feet from the table waiting respectfully until the hand was completed.

"Mr. Baker," Jorge' said after they finished the hand. "This is the gentleman that I had asked permission to play in your game tonight."

A very large, very pale man with a bald head and startling pale eyes looked up at Jorge's statement. Mr. Baker looked almost gaunt. His large frame was obviously heavily muscled and it didn't look like he had an ounce of fat on him. He stared at Jorge' with those pale piercing eyes for a long moment then his gaze moved to Jim. Jim felt like he was being weighed and measured down to his shoe size.

"You aren't a player," Mr. Baker said confidently. "What are you doing here?"

Jim reached out with his mind and could feel this intimidating man. He felt Jorge's energy join his with a jolt and suddenly the images in Mr. Bakers mind were clear.

"Thank you Jorge'," Jim thought.

"De Nada," Jorge' thought back.

Aloud Jim said, "If you are referring to me being a player as in someone that normally plays cards in out of the way places like this you are right." He looked around the room and smiled before continuing. "But if I had known it was this nice I may have started sooner."

The large man smiled slightly but didn't say anything. He was waiting for an explanation for Jim's presence.

"Actually, I am a high school teacher," Jim continued seriously. "I am in need of a lot of money fast and I don't want the authorities to know that I am getting it. Gambling is the only way I could think of to get it. I have some seed money but it isn't enough for what I need. If I lose the seed money I am no worse off than I was before. If I win then I have a chance to get out of a very bad situation."

Mr. Baker got a very cold smile and asked, "Is this bad situation with some of my, ah," he looked around to ensure he had everyone's attention. "My brothers in the trades?"

Jim understood the trades that Mr. Baker was referring to were drugs, prostitution, holdups and the like. He smiled back just as coldly and said, "No sir, much worse. It is the feds."

Mr. Baker burst out laughing and after a moment the rest of the room laughed with him.

"You are right Mr. Teacher Man," Mr. Baker said still chuckling. "The feds are much worse. My associates may kill you but the feds can chase you beyond the grave. They will rob your loved ones and never care if they are left on the street to starve." He shook his head as if at a memory and asked, "What is your name Mr. Teacher Man?"

"Should I use my real name or just say Mr. Smith?" Jim asked with a slight smile.

"Your real name please," Mr. Baker said as his smile faded. "If I have to kill you I want to make sure the right name is on the headstone."

Jim's smile faded too. He could feel in this man that he wasn't joking in the slightest. "My name is Jim Bronson," Jim said.

"Ok," Mr. Baker said and paused for effect. "Jim. Why don't I just take your seed money and you can leave? That will save you the trouble of spending an evening with us lowlifes."

"Because if word got around that you just take the money then more marks wouldn't try to play here," Jim replied evenly and without hesitation. He returned Mr. Baker's cold gaze with directness but nonchalance. Jim didn't want to challenge this man, but knew to show fear would be like blood in the water to sharks. "That is also why I am confident that if I win I will be able to leave with my winnings," Jim continued. "Believing they can maybe win and walk away is the only way more marks will try. It is only good business for you."

Mr. Baker's stare would have been unnerving if Jim couldn't see the flow of his thoughts. He could tell that the big man was weighing his words and deciding on his course of action. A little push by Jim and the decision was made.

"Put your cell on mute and give it to Jorge' then have a seat Mr. Teacher Man," Mr. Baker said as he gestured toward an empty chair. "We don't allow cell phones at the table."

"Thank you sir," Jim said as he moved toward the indicated chair after giving his cell to Jorge'. "Can I be introduced to the other players? I don't need real names since I don't intend to kill anyone," Jim said as he sat down.

Mr. Baker laughed and said, "Sure," and proceeded to introduce Jim to the other players. "This is Mr. Smith, and Mr. Smith, and Mr. Smith..."

Jim dutifully smiled and greeted the four Mr. Smiths and shook their hands. Jim knew he was getting better and better at following thoughts of people. One touch seemed to lock a link between himself and the other person. It made it much easier. Jim held his hand out to Mr. Baker after the introductions were completed and said, "And thanks Mr. Baker for allowing me to play tonight and not killing me."

Mr. Baker looked at the outstretched hand for a moment then shook it as he replied, "The night is still young Mr. Bronson." He looked very serious.

The card game was Texas Holdem. A dealer was supplied by the house in return for a 1% take of each pot. A $1000 pot paid the house $10. Jim was careful of which pots he won and how much. He knew when he had a winning hand and would push the other players to bet a little more than they normally would. He never pushed Mr. Baker to bet more. In fact, he would occasionally push Mr. Baker to drop out of a hand even if Jim wasn't in the hand. The results were Mr. Baker and Jim's stack of money grew while everyone else at the table grew smaller and smaller. A dapper black man was the first to lose all his money and leave. Another man took his place. A ragged looking Oriental man lost his and, with a gesture over his shoulder, was handed a package by a well dressed Oriental standing a few feet behind him. It was another bundle of $100 dollar bills. There must have been another $50,000 in the bundle.