resumed.
“Sergeant, I went low, remember? I’m not trying to make any books,” Bena said. Benakowsky was forced to balance his love of playing spades with his disdain for playing spades with Sergeant Olsen. Parsons and Mosby had beaten Olsen and Bena soundly.
“I can’t pick a book up to save my ass and you’re not helping, Bena,” Olsen complained.
“Sergeant, why did you bid nine books? You overbid again. You always overbid,” Bena said. Although he was a fine card player, winning with Sergeant Olsen was proving to be impossible.
“Ah, come on, man. We gotta make some books!” Olsen howled.
“Sergeant, you need to bid properly. You always overbid and we always lose points,” Bena said.
“Benakowsky, you know what your problem is? You never take a risk. You never go for it. You play cards like you live your life. That’s why your whore wife walked out on you,” Olsen said.
Bena’s face turned red with embarrassment. It was no secret that Bena’s wife had recently run off with their neighbor and left Bena penniless, but no one in the platoon had dared to joke about it. Sergeant McBride and Captain Roberts had worked hard to help Bena get his life back in order and he’d finally started to feel a little better. Of course, if there was anyone who was going to say something inappropriate, it would be Sergeant Olsen. Sergeant McBride hadn’t heard what Olsen had said, but he was now keenly aware that Bena was upset.
“I’m done, I quit,” Bena said through clenched teeth, throwing his cards down. He reached into his pocket, retrieved two five dollar bills and tossed them to Parsons and Mosby. He then stormed off to a nearby portable toilet.
“I guess that’s one way to prove a point,” Mosby said, looking at Parsons and then down at the two bills.
“That’s not what I wanted to happen,” Parsons said, looking down at the money as well.
“What are you guys talking about?” Olsen asked.
“I don’t want mine,” Mosby said to Parsons, ignoring Olsen.
Nah, I don’t want mine either. I’ll give the money back to him when he calms down a little bit,” Parsons said, pulling out a cigarette.
“Hey fuckheads, what’s with the money?” Olsen asked, frustrated that neither of the lower-ranking soldiers seemed to be paying any attention to him.
“Bena bet us five dollars each that he could beat us in spades, no matter who his partner was. We got to pick the partner, of course. That’s why he asked you to play with him,” Parsons said, cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth as he spoke.
“So you bet against me?” Olsen asked.
“Actually, Sergeant, if you think about it, we bet on you. You are a pretty terrible spades player,” Mosby said.
“Shut your mouth, Private,” Olsen barked, snatching up the two bills and putting them in his pocket. Mosby and Parsons sighed as the money disappeared from their sight.
“Consider this an asshole tax,” Olsen said. Glancing over at the gazebo, he saw Sergeant McBride glaring at him, shaking his head slowly. Just beyond him, Captain Roberts rolled his eyes. Olsen grumbled as he reached back into his pocket to retrieve the money. Balling the bills up in his hand, he threw them down between Mosby and Parsons.
Jake made a mental note to talk to Bena when he could get him alone. He didn’t want to embarrass the younger soldier more at the moment. McBride made a mental note to put his foot squarely up Olsen’s ass, both literally and figuratively. Luckily, an Air Force sergeant came walking out of the terminal to announce that their flight was on final approach and would be on the ground in four minutes.
The soldiers cheered and began to put on their vests and shoulder their bags. Bena joined them. It was clear that he’d been crying. Parsons walked up and gave Bena his money back.
“A bet’s a bet,” Bena said.
“You’re right, you Polack bastard. The bet was you could beat me and Mosby with any partner. The way we figure
“Sergeant, I went low, remember? I’m not trying to make any books,” Bena said. Benakowsky was forced to balance his love of playing spades with his disdain for playing spades with Sergeant Olsen. Parsons and Mosby had beaten Olsen and Bena soundly.
“I can’t pick a book up to save my ass and you’re not helping, Bena,” Olsen complained.
“Sergeant, why did you bid nine books? You overbid again. You always overbid,” Bena said. Although he was a fine card player, winning with Sergeant Olsen was proving to be impossible.
“Ah, come on, man. We gotta make some books!” Olsen howled.
“Sergeant, you need to bid properly. You always overbid and we always lose points,” Bena said.
“Benakowsky, you know what your problem is? You never take a risk. You never go for it. You play cards like you live your life. That’s why your whore wife walked out on you,” Olsen said.
Bena’s face turned red with embarrassment. It was no secret that Bena’s wife had recently run off with their neighbor and left Bena penniless, but no one in the platoon had dared to joke about it. Sergeant McBride and Captain Roberts had worked hard to help Bena get his life back in order and he’d finally started to feel a little better. Of course, if there was anyone who was going to say something inappropriate, it would be Sergeant Olsen. Sergeant McBride hadn’t heard what Olsen had said, but he was now keenly aware that Bena was upset.
“I’m done, I quit,” Bena said through clenched teeth, throwing his cards down. He reached into his pocket, retrieved two five dollar bills and tossed them to Parsons and Mosby. He then stormed off to a nearby portable toilet.
“I guess that’s one way to prove a point,” Mosby said, looking at Parsons and then down at the two bills.
“That’s not what I wanted to happen,” Parsons said, looking down at the money as well.
“What are you guys talking about?” Olsen asked.
“I don’t want mine,” Mosby said to Parsons, ignoring Olsen.
Nah, I don’t want mine either. I’ll give the money back to him when he calms down a little bit,” Parsons said, pulling out a cigarette.
“Hey fuckheads, what’s with the money?” Olsen asked, frustrated that neither of the lower-ranking soldiers seemed to be paying any attention to him.
“Bena bet us five dollars each that he could beat us in spades, no matter who his partner was. We got to pick the partner, of course. That’s why he asked you to play with him,” Parsons said, cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth as he spoke.
“So you bet against me?” Olsen asked.
“Actually, Sergeant, if you think about it, we bet on you. You are a pretty terrible spades player,” Mosby said.
“Shut your mouth, Private,” Olsen barked, snatching up the two bills and putting them in his pocket. Mosby and Parsons sighed as the money disappeared from their sight.
“Consider this an asshole tax,” Olsen said. Glancing over at the gazebo, he saw Sergeant McBride glaring at him, shaking his head slowly. Just beyond him, Captain Roberts rolled his eyes. Olsen grumbled as he reached back into his pocket to retrieve the money. Balling the bills up in his hand, he threw them down between Mosby and Parsons.
Jake made a mental note to talk to Bena when he could get him alone. He didn’t want to embarrass the younger soldier more at the moment. McBride made a mental note to put his foot squarely up Olsen’s ass, both literally and figuratively. Luckily, an Air Force sergeant came walking out of the terminal to announce that their flight was on final approach and would be on the ground in four minutes.
The soldiers cheered and began to put on their vests and shoulder their bags. Bena joined them. It was clear that he’d been crying. Parsons walked up and gave Bena his money back.
“A bet’s a bet,” Bena said.
“You’re right, you Polack bastard. The bet was you could beat me and Mosby with any partner. The way we figure
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