Out of the Fold

–

“I want out.”

Hands slapping across the desk, gripping the edges tightly. Gone was the chain Ben associated him with, twirling around and around his fingers in the casinos. He wore his jewelry like magic charms, meant to show the world a carefree spirit (carefree, or else reckless, meaning joyously deceitful), and it was gone. His eyes were puffy and red without glasses, evidence of drinks or drugs or too little sleep; when he leaned all his weight on the desk, shirt untucked and his hair undone, he looked a mess.

“You look terrible, Choi,” Ben said. “Go get yourself a drink.”

“I’ve had one. Five, actually. Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“And?”

“I wanna know why you think you need to ask permission. I’m not forcing you to stay, you know.”

“You’re…” Abruptly, Choi broke into high–pitched laughter. “You’re not? You’re not? Aw man, I guess I was worrying for nothing then, wasn’t I?” His hands balled into fists for those last words, and then came crashing down onto the desk. He turned, bringing his hands up into his hair. “Don’t lie to me Ben,” he laughed, the sound painful. “I know you a little too well for that. You think you’re so slick with us, with Jill, even, but I know…. I see. If one of us left, you know we’d tell.”

“And you know I’d do my best to bring you down with us. You’re in too deep to get out now, Choi.”

“Don’t fuck with me!” His eyes were wild, and he took a few deep breaths, trying for calm.

When he was in control again he said: “I know what I’m going to do, Ben. You’re still the leader of this thing, and I respect that enough to tell you before I bring you down. But…” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of Pall Malls, “but I want to know what you’re gonna do when I leave.”

“Nothing.”

The corners of Choi’s mouth twitched. He lit his cigarette with a lighter left lying on the desktop, lit his cigarette and tossed it back. Inhaled.

“That’s bull,” he said.

“I’m being honest Choi; I’m not going to do anything.”

“Okay. Okay. Alright then.” With sudden cheeriness, he dug his glasses out of his coat pocket and put them on. It was a sudden, startling transformation; he looked himself again, and this, for whatever reason, made Ben unspeakably sad.

He looked himself. Whatever that was.

“Okay. See you around Ben.”

He turned, some of his usual swagger returning, that easy confidence Ben had first seen in him: one leg propped up against the table, calling out numbers and throwing down cards. Chomping on gum.

(We’re kings of the world, Ben. How’s that make you feel?)

Choi turned on his heel just then, dragging his glasses down so that their eyes met. One hand rested on the doorknob, the other delicately raised in front of his face, his body conveying some deep sadness.

“Just for the record Ben, it was fun while it lasted. And… I still don’t believe you. I’ll be watching my back.”

And then he was gone, the door snapping shut behind him.

Ben reached for his phone, dialing a number with some hesitation. He’d hoped never to use this number at all, but people were getting dissatisfied. The money they won just wasn’t enough anymore; they wanted something else… something Ben couldn’t give them, because he didn’t even know what it was. And now this. Choi leaving, Kianna’s moods… even Jill, who claimed to love him, got wary and edgy at times.

“There’s something I need you to take care of for me,” Ben said quietly into the phone. “It’s Choi.”

It was just too bad, though….

finis