I knew that bridge was a card game, but that was about it. It seemed dull and old-fashioned. Maybe, at one time, bridge might have been some people's idea of fun, but that was before computers and video games.
I called Cliff, and hoped Katie wasn't with him. I'm always amazed by the stuff he knows. If anybody could teach me how to play bridge by Saturday, it would be him.
He was no help. According to Cliff, bridge was a card game little old ladies played while eating chocolate-covered raisins.
"Anyway, your uncle's blind," Cliff pointed out. "So he won't be able to tell whether you know how to play or not."
I wasn't quite sure about that. I went online and found a Web site that sold bridge books. There were hundreds of books on bridge, possibly a thousand. There were books for beginners, and for advanced and expert players. Just your basic how-to-play-bridge book was over two hundred pages, but even if I wanted to read it, I wouldn't get it in time for Saturday.
Mostly, the whole thing struck me as very odd. Why would there be so many books about one game?
I found another site that had the rules of bridge. I learned that bridge was a game played by four people. All the cards were dealt, so each person got thirteen cards. You were partners with the person who sat across from you.
I was lost after that. There were two parts to a bridge hand, the bidding and the play, but I couldn't tell you what you were supposed to do in either part. There were also things called a contract, and trump, and a dummy, and the directions north, south, east, and west seemed to have something to do with it.
"Didn't Uncle Lester say it was good you don't know how to play?" Leslie asked me, looking over my shoulder.
"I guess," I muttered, but that didn't make a whole lot of sense either. "How are we supposed to be partners?" I complained. "He can't see the cards, and I don't know the rules!"
"Don't yell at me, " said Leslie.
Saturday, my mother made me wear a jacket and tie. This despite the fact that it was over eighty degrees outside, and also despite the fact that "He can't see what I'm wearing!"
"You're taking him to his club, " replied my mother.
She let me take her car, thankfully, since mine wasn't all that reliable, but first I had to wash it. That made even less sense to me than wearing a jacket and tie. What, would all the other people at the club be looking out the window to make sure he arrived in a clean car?
My Internet directions said it would take forty-three minutes to get to his house, but it took me over an hour. Once I left Cross Canyon Boulevard, I had to follow a labyrinth of winding roads up a hill, and most of the street signs were hidden behind trees and flowering shrubs. I followed this simple rule: when in doubt, go up. My uncle's house was at the very top of the hill.
The house wasn't the castle I remembered from when I was six, but I could see why it had made that impression on me, all stone and wrought iron with giant beams of wood. Nor was the hill a mountain, although there were great sweeping views in all directions.
Not that the views were much good to him now, I thought somewhat morbidly.
An iron knocker in the shape of a goat's head, horns included, was attached to the massive front door. I was tempted, but used the doorbell instead. A dog barked inside.
Mrs. Mahoney opened the door. "Well, aren't you a handsome young man," she said, no doubt referring to my jacket and tie. "Hush, Captain!" she said to the dog, who did not hush.
"You'll have to excuse Captain. He's gotten a lot more protective since Mr. Trapp lost his eyesight."
Mrs. Mahoney was dressed in a peach-colored pantsuit and wore a jade necklace. At first glance she seemed very refined and genteel, but the way she grabbed Captain by his collar revealed a woman with muscular arms and a strong grip.
She invited me inside.
Captain was a mixed-breed, with just enough Doberman pinscher to make me wary about entering. However, my hope of seeing the half-naked Teodora was greater than my fear of my uncle's dog.
"He knows I've never played bridge, right?" I asked.
"Don't worry about that," Mrs. Mahoney assured me. "He will tell you which card to play."
"And you will play that card!" declared my uncle, coming through an archway. "You will not hesitate. You will not ask, ‘Are you sure?' "
For someone who was supposedly on the brink of death, his voice was loud and strong. He was a large man, both in height and weight. His hair was cut short, but there was still some black mixed with the gray. The only clue that there might be something wrong with him was his dark sunglasses.
"But you are to wait until I tell you what card to play, before you play it," he continued. "Even if you are certain what that card will be. Even if a diamond is led, and the ten of diamonds is the only diamond in your hand, you will wait until I say ‘Ten of diamonds' before you place it on the table. Because if you play that card before I call for it, then everyone will know it's a singleton, won't they?"
I shrugged, which, I realized, was as meaningless to him as his words were to me.
"Mr. Trapp takes his bridge very seriously," said Mrs. Mahoney.
Captain continued to stare threateningly at me as my uncle rubbed him behind his ears. "What's your name?"
"Alton. Alton Richards."
"Your niece's son," said Mrs. Mahoney.
"Does he know Toni?" asked my uncle.
"Ask him yourself."
He didn't ask. Instead, he launched into a tirade of bridge gibberish.
"Dummy's got king, queen, ten of spades, and I'm sitting behind it with ace, four, doubleton. Declarer leads the deuce, partner plays the seven, and declarer calls for the king from dummy. ‘Four of spades,' I say, without the slightest pause for thought. And what does Toni do? Does she play the four? No. She hesitates . She asks, ‘Are you sure?' A few lessons and she thinks she knows more than I do!"
"Toni doesn't think that," said Mrs. Mahoney.
"Well, she just told the whole table where the ace was, didn't she?"
I hoped that question wasn't directed at me, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
"What's your name?" he asked me again.
"Alton Richards," I said.
"Are you sure?"
I wasn't sure what to say.
"Dumb question, ain't it? Hah!"