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Now Prosper inhaled his smoke and watched as the Native American chick came out from that shithouse of a trailer. She was too damn skinny for Prosper’s taste, but a natural beauty, nonetheless. There certainly was nothing pretentious or flighty about her, that was for sure. If Magaskawee Whitefeather had made the decision to ride away with Jack Winston, it was a decision that she did not come upon lightly.
Maggie was dressed for travel: a pair of sneakers, a faded pair of jeans, and a gray sweatshirt that looked like it had been washed and worn within an inch of its life. When Jack grabbed her backpack and started to walk her back to the bikes, Magaskawee looked straight at Prosper. Taken aback by the serious, intense look she gave him, he returned her steady gaze, staring closely at her, then closer still. The jolt of attraction that ran through him almost knocked him off his feet, and served as a warning: Prosper needed to stay away from his best friend’s woman.
Prosper flicked his cigarette on the ground and scowled at Maggie just for good measure. When she flashed him a bright smile in return, Prosper turned from her and kicked over his Harley forcefully. His hand was shaking as he wrapped it around the throttle and twisted hard. Then he grinned inwardly, Jack was right. Magaskawee Whitefeather sure had some balls.
“… And isn’t this what’s called a Royal Flush?” Maggie feigned innocence as she placed an ace, a king, a queen, a jack, and a ten all in the same suit down on the table. Jack groaned and Prosper chuckled as Maggie pulled the chips towards her.
“No, actually I think that is what’s called a hustle,” Prosper said with more than a little admiration in his voice.
Jack stared at the hand of cards Maggie had laid out. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew how to play poker?”
Maggie’s eyes twinkled with glee. “It’s more fun this way.”
“For who?” Jack snorted good-naturedly.
“My older cousins taught us to play.” Then Maggie sighed. “I never put two and two together, but maybe that’s what started Taki’s gambling. Who knows? Anyway, we used to save up the boxes of pretzel sticks from the school cafeteria and play with them. One of those little sticks equaled a point. I was never really good at reading, but math? Numbers always made sense to me, and I guess that made me pretty good at the game. People use math all the time when they play cards and don’t realize it. Probability is a big one. You have to be able to read people too. Look for the tells. Everyone has one.”
“Bullshit. I’ve got the best poker face around.” Jack crossed his eyes and twitched his nose in a comic display.
Maggie laughed out loud. “You, Jack? You do keep a pretty tight lid on it, and it was hard for me to pin you down at first.”
“That’s because I am the master of all things.” Jack smirked.
“Except when you’re feeling confident about your hand.”
“Yeah?” Jack snorted. “You’re saying you know when I have a good play by something I do?”
“You lift your left shoulder just a little bit before you place your bet. If I see that shoulder lift and I don’t have a good hand, I don’t bet against you.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“What about the big guy?” Jack gestured towards Prosper.
“Nobody ever knows what I’m thinking. I make damn sure of that,” Prosper said with confidence.
“Well, I admit. You took a while to figure out. But you always tap your finger when you don’t like your draw. If I see that index finger hit the table, I know I’m good to go,” Magaskawee said with glee. When he scowled at her she laughed.
“Bullshit, I do that,” he growled.
“Bullshit, you don’t,” Maggie retorted good-naturedly.
“Well, I got some stuff to do before I hit the sack.” Jack threw down his cards. “You coming, Maggie?”
“Prosper told me he’d take me down to the riverbed and catch fireflies with me.”
Jack choked on his beer. “He did?”
“No, I fucking did not,” Prosper growled out. “I said I would show you where the damn bugs were.”
“Oh, same thing.” She waved at him dismissively, then she turned to Jack. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?”
“Nah, I’m gonna have another beer and look over the map. I want to pencil out the route through the valley that Prosper wants to take tomorrow.”
Then Jack smirked and clapped Prosper on the back. “Firefly catching, huh? This one is all yours, brother.”
Prosper sat on the grass and watched Maggie squeal in delight as she tried to entice the bugs to fly into the mayonnaise jar. Over the last few months he had found it both preposterously absurd and ridiculously touching the way that she got pleasure out of the simplest things. Picking berries, skipping rocks, digging for clams on a sandy beach, or cooking over a low campfire—she loved it all. Everything was new in Maggie’s eyes, and seeing her singular joy brought out a side of Prosper that he hadn’t known existed and one that he was not entirely comfortable with. He grumbled and grouched whenever Maggie made Jack pull his Harley to the side of the road while she picked strawberries or wildflowers in a field, or when she insisted they waste good money on food to feed the ducks.
