The Small Man - Part II

The small man and I were shown to a table and, with a courteous nod of his head, he departed to mount a raid on the buffet. I went and did likewise, feeling overawed and strangely intimidated by the spread as I always do. Having eventually filled my plate with far more food than I could ever eat, I returned to the table to find the small man consuming a plate of smoked fish and toast. A suitably refined, yet austere selection, I thought and began to eat my own lunch.

Again, I found myself being hypnotised by the aura of calmness and self-posession that surrounded the small man. Eventually, knowing I would likely never see him again, I decided to engage him in conversation.
"You played a great game last night" I ventured hesitantly. The small man took my inane opener at face value, "thank you" he replied, "it was an enjoyable evening".
I blundered on - " I must say, er, I was very impressed with your cool at the table. I should get some lessons from you".
"I wouldn't advise that" said the small man, "I'm really not very good. In fact I only play poker in order to gather material". "Material?" I queried.

The small man laid down his cutlery and fixed me with a serious look. "Yes, material. I find the environment of the poker table to be a rich hunting ground for me to collect my material". At this stage I was becoming convinced that the small man was deranged. "Please explain" I said.

"I, sir, am the greatest collector of stories in the world. I travel the world seeking out interesting people and situations in order to collect their stories. I have been doing this for the past twenty-six years and, in ten years time, I will write the greatest book of stories ever told".
"Interesting" I exclaimed, "and have your adventures at the poker table provided you with much material?"

The small man leaned in close and dropped his voice, "well, actually last week, a former WSOP champion relayed a superb story to me. One that has never been told before. The champ in question is Jamie Gold and, last week, he and I enjoyed a long conversation at the Bicycle Casino in Los Angeles. It's a little known fact that Mr Gold was recently imprisoned at the maximum security prison in Hanoi, Vietnam. The details of his incarceration are unimportant, suffice to say that it involved an opium den, several prostitutes, a wild pig and a furore surrounding a large amount of money. Let's be charitable and say it was a cultural misunderstanding.

Now there aren't many foreigners in the Hanoi Hilton and the warden, an evil creature by the name of Minh, decided to house Gold in a cell with the only other English speaker in the gaol. This was some obscure English pop singer by the name of Gary Glitter who had been imprisoned after some seedy goings-on involving young children. As Glitter had been in the gaol for quite some time at this juncture, he had developed a close relationship with Minh. This relationship revolved around the transfer of money from Glitter to Minh and the importation of luxuries into the gaol for Glitter's private enjoyment.

After several months of this mutually beneficial arrangement, Glitter's cell was beginning to resemble a Park Avenue penthouse with all manner of consumer goods adorning the miserable space. In this fashion, Glitter was passing his period of detention in quite a tolerable manner. Within hours of Gold having arrived in the cell, the American consul had been sent for, negotiations had been entered into and it was agreed that Gold would be released after a couple of days.

Gold, being a restless character, sought about for something to occupy these couple of days and discovered a pack of playing cards in one of Glitter's drawers. He then queried his cellmate if he would be interested in a little game of poker. Glitter, a gullible man, agreed instantly to this pleasant diversion and an arrangement was made that Glitter's goods would be played for against Gold's cash, of which he had a large sum (that which he had relieved the poor prostitutes of).

Well, the game played out exactly as you might expect. Glitter played poorly and rashly. He requested the stakes to be increased several times in order that he might play his way out of trouble. This however only deepened the hole in which he found himself. Before the two protagonists realised, two days had flown by and Gold now owned all of Glitter's worldly posessions. Just then, Minh knocked on the door and announced that Gold was free to go. Gold proudly stood up from the table and explained to Minh that all of Glitter's items were now his. Glitter, the despicable scoundrel, saw his opportunity to welsh on his debts and claimed that Gold was lying.

At this, Gold flew into a frenzy and began screaming and shouting, to the extent that he had to be physically held back from attacking Glitter. Minh, with the assistance of some of his minions, listened to the arguments of both men. He made it clear that his word was law within the prison walls and the final decision would be his, and his alone. Gold, now sobbing uncontrollably, pointed to the mountain of expensive goods in the cell and screamed "it's mine! It's mine!"
Minh listened impassively to this unmanly racket, pointed at the treasure trove and announced his verdict:

"All that - Glitter's. Is not Gold's"

The small man stood up from the table and departed rapidly, his mocking laughter trailing behind him. I can still hear it now and it haunts my dreams.

el S