A run-down outpost full of scalawags seemed like the perfect place for Speck to ply his new trade. The unlikely duo strode through the door as a young Indian Brave idled by the entrance. He appeared to be a few years older than Eubie, but the scar that ran down his weathered cheek made it seem like he had already lived a lifetime. A bulging leather pouch along with a beaded pipe bag hung from around his waist. His hand rested on a sheath that held a knife that could spring at a moment’s notice if need be. A glancewasall that was needed for Eubie to see that theexquisite beaded necklace with silver inlay suggested nobility.
The saloon patrons were an unsavory lot with faces and dispositions that would make a mother cry and a father deny their existence. Immersedin their card game, they hardly noticed the man barely tall enough to command any attentionman and the forlorn little black boy trailing behind him. A few men lolled at the bar hoping that each drink would either give them courage or deaden their senses. What started off as a friendly card game in the corner soon grew increasingly animated with every loss. The only thing that gave the place any semblance of dignity was the whirring of an overhead fan whose chord was pulled by a toothless Squaw who smoked a corn cob pipe while rocking in her chair.
Eubie sat close to the entrance in the event something went wrong he could easily flee. Preacher Hicks had talked about the evils of such places, but Eubie never dreamed he would ever be inside of one. Sometimes he and Henry would sneak down to the local juke joint to watch grown folks socialize, but this place hardly held up to the familiarity of freshly fried catfish, okra, collards and Southern sweet tea. Of course no evening would have been complete without moonshine and the blues guitar of local talent.
The overpowering smell of liquor, smoke and cheap perfume made it unbearable in the stifling heat and Eubie reluctantly removed his hat. This simple gesture was quickly noticed by the Brave who remained vigilant by the door. The once tightly knotted naps on Eubie’s head had grown and were now coiled into a matted mass fit for shearing. Although it wasn’t white, Eubie’s hair reminded the Brave of the buffalo most sacred to certain tribes.
To the amusement of a customer who had already abused his own share of drink, Speck, with much difficulty, managed to climb onto the wooden ledge to order. “Allow me,” the man said in a drunken stupor. Then slurring his words yelled, “Barkeep! Half pint for the half pint.” He laughed uncontrollably at his own cleverness which prompted others to join in. Speck was used to such derision and remained immune to the man’s insults.
“No, allow me,” Speck said pulling out the three seed pods from his pocket and placing them on the bar. “If you find the seed, the next drink’s on me.” The inebriated man couldn’t believe his good fortune. The game sounded easy and if nothing more, it broke the monotony of yet another lost day.
Speck let him win a couple of rounds – a ploy that piqued the interest of those milling about. Because everyone wanted to take their chance at such an effortless win, a crowd gathered. One by one Speck feigned losing until the unsuspecting victim became over confident and pushed his luckby plunking down more money. When he had amassed a small fortune, he motioned Eubie to the door while leaving a trail of disgruntled losers behind. But before they would exit, the Brave approached jingling his gold laden pouch. Speck’s eyes sparkled as Eubie’s grew dim. Eubie knew that the throwing of bones was passed down from the Indian Elders as part of a survival skill in a land threatened by those who thought they could outwit them. There was little chance for Speck to sustain his luck against this knowing fellow. When the Brave sat down, Speck was only too happy to relieve him of the contents of the bulging leather bag.
“Aint we got enuff?” Eubie pleaded
“With this win they’ll be enough for you to go to Africa and me to England”
“What if ya lose?”
“Foolish lad. I’d sooner put me own self on display before losing to this barbarian.”
By now curious onlookers were betting each other to see who would win. As usual, Speck let the Brave win until a huge pile of coins lie between them. No sooner had Speck pulled the pile toward him when the Brave swatted his hand away. “No!” the Brave said pulling out the last of his money. Eubie panicked as he knew that greed would get the better of Speck and be his downfall.
An overly confident Speck replied, “Tell you what, good sir - two out of three. If I win, I get the money and that trinket around your neck.”
“I win, get money and boy.” Alarm spread across Eubie’s face, but Speck didn’t flinch. All he could think about was the money he could make.
“A bargain made is a bargain kept.” Only the whirring of the fan could be heard as Speck mixed the pods at a dizzying speed. The Brave won the first one and everyone cheered hoping that if he won, they might have a chance at recouping their losses. A second time made Speck the winner. Sweat ran down Eubie’s face as he prepared for Speck’s inevitable downfall. Even the old Squaw shuffled over to see if the last seed would reveal itself. The Brave chose the middle one. Slowly Speck lifted the pod and with a wide grin revealed an empty space. The Brave quickly pulled out his knife and stabbed at the table between Speck and the coins. He picked the little man up and shook him so vigorously that the missing seed fell to the floor.
The Brave was not as concerned about the money as he was about something to show for his time away from his people. He had fallen into the fashionable vices of the day that resulted in a loss of face not worthy of a young man who had set out to prove himself. “Where we goin”? Eubie asked for the umpteenth time. The Brave hadn’t spoken since they left saloon and Eubie had no idea where he was or what was in store for him. The Indian smiled broadly, tugged on Eubie’s woolly mane and said, “Buffalo Magic.”
