Chapter Thirteen #2
My mind struggles to comprehend it. The Madeleine I knew loved learning and had a thirst for knowledge.
Celebrated its power whenever and however she could.
She lived fearlessly and bravely. I can’t imagine a world where she would choose ignorance.
I can’t believe she’d give over control of her memories for an effortless eternity.
“The Bliss?” I ask, the disbelief evident in my tone. “No. Maddy would never choose The Bliss. You must be mistaken.”
“I am not.” Chance’s voice loses some of its playfulness momentarily. “I am many things, but wrong? Well … there’s not a chance.” He waits, but rolls his eyes when we give him nothing. “She’s there, all blonde hair and bright smiles. Been there for over a century.”
Kane interjects, “It does not matter anyway. There is no way to enter The Bliss. The gates are locked, and the walls are insurmountable. The Bliss can be chosen upon entry to AfterLife Processing, but at no time afterward. And no denizen of Death’s Door shall be allowed admittance to The Bliss from other sections of the OtherWorld.
You’ve just given us useless news and put Asher into grave danger by forcing hope and mortal memories back into him.
He’s more likely to find his way into The Nothing now than he is to ever find his true love in The Bliss. ”
“You’re absolutely right, Doctor.” Chance shoots a finger gun in Kane’s direction.
“The gates to The Bliss are firmly locked from the outside, and once you’ve chosen function over futility in the OW, then there is no entry to that vast expanse.
But …” He dangles the word for dramatic effect again.
“What if I told you that I knew a way? Say I had my hands on the OtherWorld’s blueprints and knew some things that weren’t exactly public knowledge. ”
“Tell me. Tell me now. I must be given this chance.”
“Ah, I love the excitement! But that’s not how this works.”
“You wouldn’t be this cruel.” I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends. “To tell me she’s there and then—”
“It’s not up to me,” Chance interrupts, gesturing to the roulette table. “It’s up to the ball.”
“What?”
“Roulette, of course. One number, one spin of the wheel. Fortunes changed in an instant.”
“And what are we playing for?”
Chance’s smile turns predatory. “You guess correctly, I’ll tell you how to get into The Bliss. But if you don’t pick the right number, then I’m afraid that’s the end of our story. Now you know that Maddy is out there, but you’ll never be able to find her.”
The cruelty of it is breathtaking. But I don’t hesitate.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
That same devious grin splits Chance’s face in two. With his right hand, he picks the small ball up from the table. With his left, he grabs a single purple chip and flicks it in my direction. I catch it and stare at the disk in my hand.
“Pick a single number from the inside,” Chance instructs, his voice taking on the practiced cadence of a professional game caller. “No outside bets or multi-number bets are in play. One chip, one number, one chance.”
“Understood.”
Chance spins the wheel in a counterclockwise direction.
Then he places the ball inside the groove of the wheel and pushes it against the wood.
The ball begins its clockwise circle around the outer track as the numbers on the wheel blur past in the opposite direction.
The clicking sound fills the air, both rhythmic and hypnotic.
Click, click, click.
Without hesitation, I place the chip on the eleven black in the center of the board.
One and one. Maddy used to insist that to become two, we each must be whole first. I never cared much for numbers, but I’ve always cared for her. “Eleven, black,” I state confidently.
As the wheel slows and the ball makes its descent into the bowl, beginning to jump, dance, and bounce between the pockets, Chance runs his hand horizontally over the table.
“No more bets,” he says as the clinking sound slows and the ball nestles into a space on the wheel. No more jumping, no more bouncing.
Before the wheel fully stops, its placement on the board is clear. Chance announces the number, pulling a clear weighted cylinder and placing it atop the selected number on the board.
“Three red.” The white ball rattles uselessly inside the wooden slot on the board. “Better luck next time.”
I stare at the ball nestled against the beige slats, the number three on the red background glaring back at me.
“No.” The word comes out broken. “It can’t be. One more chance. You have to let me try again. Double or nothing.”
This cannot be possible. If he has any information on my Maddy, if there is any way for me to see her, I must.
“Twice nothing is still nothing, my friend.” Chance’s smug tone cuts through my racing thoughts. “You had one chance. It didn’t work out. Sorry. My hands are tied.”
“I’ll do more than tie your fucking hands if you don’t tell me where my Maddy is right fucking now.”
“Temper, temper, hothead. Like I said, it’s not up to me. It’s up to the ball. What is that saying in that one sport? Ball don’t lie. Hmm? Yes. That’s the one.”
I stare through the dark lenses of his glasses directly into his unmoving eyes. In my desperate state, I do what I must. I beg. “Please. I’ll do anything. You have to tell me what you know. I must find Maddy. I will owe you whatever you want.”
Chance tilts his head, considering. “Ohhhh, a favor? Now that’s interesting. That has … potential.”
“What?”
“If I give you another spin, you’ll owe me a favor. To be collected when I want, how I want, no questions asked.”
“Fine. Deal.”
“Asher—”
“Can it, Doc,” I grit out, eyes not leaving Chance. “What if it were Rue?”
That shuts the bloody fucker up.
Chance leans forward. “And there’s still no guarantee that you win—you understand that, right? I do not influence the wheel. I only create opportunities.”