SMALL SACRIFICES--Ezra Standish
He sat at the priceless antique walnut table, opening and idly shuffling a new deck of cards, his long agile fingers graceful as the cards flipped down softly on the glistening wood surface. It was almost as if they were a living thing.
And to Ezra Standish, they were. The stiff colorful pieces of cardboard had been his companions for longer than he could remember. He knew each card intimately, better than he knew any living person.
And that knowledge had sufficed him.
He knew the cards never lied. He knew they would always be there for him and would never abandon him. They were the perfect companions on a long night, wanting nothing and asking nothing.
He realized the cards had gotten him into many things--fancy cars, lavish homes, women, money, a jet set life style. But they were a way, a means to an end. And that end had always been the betterment of one Ezra P. Standish.
But now, now, things had changed. Tonight, the cards were just pieces of stiff paper incapable of satisfying a yearning deep within him. A strange yearning, one he struggled to define and put a name to.
He flipped over the top card and a small smile graced his face. The Joker. Call it superstition since the gambler didn't believe in luck but he always left in the joker when shuffling a new deck. He flipped it over and quickly, effortlessly shuffled the deck again, fanning the cards out on the polished wooden tabletop. One quick flick of his wrist and again the jester again stared up at him.
The Joker.
Maybe that was all he had been, fooling himself into believing he was above the baser emotions, above wanting and needing friends and the companionship and closeness they offered.
Oh, he had known several people he had thought were friends. He would have gone to the ends of the world for them, but when the chips were down and he really needed them, they had looked right through him and walked away without so much as a backward glance. He, who did not give trust easily, had trusted them, only to have that trust thrown back in his face.
And so he had followed his mother's well taught lessons. He had backed away from people, drawing into himself and refusing to let anyone near him. He watched people, played to them, put on a front and became what he thought they wanted him to be, what they wanted to see, but no one ever saw the real Ezra.
The real Ezra.
He smirked at the oxymoron. Even he, himself, didn't know the real Ezra. The con man, the cheat, the gambler who secretly harbored a tender heart and giving nature. The man whose quick bright flashing smile hid the broken heart of a little boy who really only wanted to belong somewhere.
But all his life, he had lived by the adage use or be used.
Up to now, his only definition of friend was someone who used you until someone better suited to their purposes came along. After all, he had his loyal cards, what more did he need? Surely not the commitment and bothersome trouble of another human being interfering in his life. Lord knew he had enough interference from his mother.
But now, tonight, there was no solace in the cards or the fine wine which filled the crystal goblet by his hand. No comfort in the lavish expensive appointments which surrounded him and filled his penthouse apartment.
A sharp pang shot through him as he studied the deck in front of him, absently fingering the cards, shaping them into a perfectly stacked deck. His hand dropped.
Tonight, he fully realized something was missing. There was a void in his life. A gaping dark spot in his soul, a place devoid of laughter and closeness, camaraderie, and caring.... All it would take was one phone call. Seven numbers on the dial pad and perhaps things would change.
A frown furrowed his brow and he brushed a strand of hair back into place.
Once, there had been one person he could depend on. One person who had accepted and trusted him.
He had never known why Jamie Watson had watched out for him. Perhaps it was out of some sense of obligation the younger man was not aware of. But that one man's opinion of him, out of all those in the world, was the one which had mattered most to him.
To Jamie, he -Ezra Standish - was more than a con man, a cheat, a gambler. He was someone of value.
And now, somehow that long haired tracker had found him. Jamie's ex-partner and he seemed to believe in him as Jamie had. He and Chris Larabee had offered him a chance to be a part of something good and noble and decent. Something which would make his life worth more than a turn of a card.
He glanced at the stack of computer printouts lying not far away. The composite facts of one Christopher Larabee's life. Ezra had studied those printouts meticulously, but had found nothing to indicate the ex-Navy SEAL wasn't exactly what he appeared to be… An honest noble man and he wanted Ezra P. Standish on his team.
All Ezra had to do was become a part of something bigger than himself, but he had had no experience in that area. And he hated not knowing, for deep down inside him, it frightened him. But it was something he truly wanted.
All he had to do was make that call....
What would his mother say? He would be giving up her good will, but that would be such a small sacrifice to make.
He was smiling as he tossed the printouts into the fireplace and reached for the phone....
THE END