Just, by Peter Morford

 2015

We, Sis and I, sheltered from the hot sun and played cards. We’d been playing for an hour when- “What are you doing?” Eddie had found us.

“Playing Rummy.”

“What’s that?”

“A clever card game,” she said, with the haughtiness of the first-born.

“Can I play?”

“No. You’re too young.”

“I’m 9” he said proudly. Why can’t I play?”

He looked over my shoulder for ten minutes and moved to watch her hand. After half an hour he said, “I know how it’s done. “Now can I play?”

Sis looked at me and winked. “OK”

She served the cards. Eddie fanned them ready for his turn. He won. What’s worse, he kept on winning. Sis and I frowned at each other. She asked, “Did Mom teach you?”

“No. I just watched you. It’s a simple game.”

Mom called us for lunch. Eddie boasted that he’d beaten two experts. When Dad came in from work Mom told him about it.

The heat wave was followed by torrential rain. We played on. He beat us again. I thought he was too happy with himself and his new confidence could be irritating. 

A few days later Dad gave him a book called Scarne on Cards. Eddie let us read it while he

practised the tricks and manipulation skills.

In that autumn term Dad took us to whist drives. Eddie became a minor celebrity when he always seemed to be on the winning side. I remember when he got his new computer for Christmas and he spent more time in his room doing …what? Then few weeks later came a large Amazon package addressed to Dad. When he opened it he found the £500 bike which Eddie had ordered and paid for.

 Mom and Dad were shocked. Where did he get the money? The cat was out of the bag when Eddie admitted he’d won in a Zoom poker competition, using Dad’s date of birth to open account. Dad realised Eddie was growing up fast. He had to be stopped before the police banged on our door.

I know now that once set up on his course it took more than a computer ban to get him under control. He had money; lots of it. As he told me later, in a year of on-line poker and Bridge he had salted away £40,000 in a safe place. He had bought another computer but its whereabouts were secret.

2025

Ten years have passed.

And now, we’re at Cicely’s graduation ceremony. Dad says to me, “You’re next, Simon. You’ll get your degree in two years if you can stay the course. And you, Eddie, you should be here if you work at your A Levels.”

“Sorry Dad, it’s not my scene. Count your blessings. You won’t have to pay my fees. I can even find you a few grand when you need it.”

“It’s not a just world,” Dad sighed.