“What’s a long shot?”
“Nothing you have to know, Theodore,” Smitty called out over her shoulder.
Hank looked at his cards—a king high full house. He managed a good healthy scowl when he looked at the kid, who gave him a blank but thoughtful stare. Then the kid looked at the list Smitty had written in the sand. “I forgot. What’s a flush?”
The genie, who had been silent until then, groaned quietly.
Hank almost crowed.
“All one suit or group, Theo.” Lydia pointed to her brother’s cards. “Like those two black clover things in your hand.”
The genie closed his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch.
“I bet my harmonica,” Hank paused for dramatic effect. “And raise you my cap.” He tossed them into the pot filled with seashells and sand dollars.
Smitty turned around and looked at him. He gave her a quick and covert nod while the kid was looking at the harmonica as if it were candy.
Hank could see her shoulders relax slightly. He waited, then said, “You’ll have to call my bet, kid.”
Theodore laid his cards face down in the sand and dug through his pants’ pockets. He looked up, frowning. “I haven’t got anything left to bet.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head, his expression childishly serious.
Hank counted to fifty again, then looked up at nothing and counted to ten. He faced the kid. “I guess...” He stopped, then shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t work.”
“What?” the kid asked eagerly.
“I was just thinking that you could bet a wish.” Theodore frowned and looked at the genie. “Muddy said I can’t give you my wish.”
“Yeah, he did.” Hank pretended to be thinking. Made a big deal of it, too. He rubbed his chin for a good two minutes. “Tell you what, kid. You can bet the wish, and if I win, you have to wish for anything I ask. If you win, you get my cap, the harmonica,andyou get to keep your wish.”
Theodore’s tongue curled out of the side of his mouth, and he chewed on it. After the long and tense few minutes, he looked at the genie. “Can I do that?”
“Yes, Master Theodore. As long as you make the wish, it doesn’t break the rules.” But the look the genie gave Hank said he knew his game.
Theodore looked at Hank. “Okay. I bet a wish and yell at you.”
“Call, not yell.”
Lydia and the genie leaned forward, waiting. “Okay, I call you,” Theodore said.
Hank laid his cards down. “King high full house, kid. Read ’em and weep!” He laughed and laughed, rubbing his hands together.
The genie sighed and shook his head. Lydia sagged back, her expression lined with disappointment.
Theodore stared down at Hank’s hand, lying in the sand, then he looked at the words written next to him in the sand. He frowned, then looked at Lydia. “What beats a full house?”
“Four of a kind,” she said, reading the list. “An’ aces are the highest?”
She nodded.
Theodore looked at Hank, then at Muddy. He looked down at his hand again.
Hank picked up the pot, then paused and looked up.
The kid’s face suddenly brightened. He looked at the genie and said, “I wish my hand had four aces.”
