I am not sure why the following memories came to my mind recently. They all are of the same person who was part of mine and my son’s father’s life very many years ago. Some of the memories are amusing, some were not. Having lived through so many different (for lack of description) venues in my life, I thought I might as well write it down and put it out for what I hope to be an entertaining read.
When I was married to my son’s dad, I was in my mid to late ’20s. Life as an adult, and now a mom, was new and sometimes exciting, most times uncertain. Of course, at the time, I did not know that uncertainty was normal if only because I wasn’t old enough to be what some would refer to seniors as; ‘seasoned’.
The times were much more laid back then. Internet, YouTube, and cell phones were not around. Well, maybe car phones, but modern technology, was by far nowhere near where it is today.
My son’s dad worked on a chicken farm, we lived in an apartment in one of the farmhouses on the property. I worked as a cashier at the local grocery store. We were by no means rich, not even close. But the bills were paid each month, we were young, and in love. What else could a person want?
One of our favorite forms of entertainment was playing cards. We knew a couple who lived up the road from us and would consider it a night out to go there with a few other couples and play cards.
On one of these nights, we met a man there we had never seen. I am not sure if he ever introduced himself with his real name, he only referred to himself as “Doc”. Upon getting to know him, it was quite clear that the name had nothing to do with the profession it alludes to. But he was a funny and entertaining, kind of guy. We accepted him into our circle of friends.
The memories I have introduced this story with begin on one particular day when Doc and the guy up the street came to our apartment one afternoon. My son’s father was home and I had just come back from the bank, having cashed my whopping $225.00 Income Tax Return check. I was very excited as I never had that much cash on my person at one time.
The three guys sat down at the table and decided to play poker. Most of the time the card game of choice was a game called “Set-Back”. Doc had asked if I wanted to play and I quickly declined. I was not a poker-playing-for-money kind of person. My aunt and uncle used to play for buttons or paperclips or anything small like that. I did ask if anyone minded if I watched, and when no one did, I stood behind and to the side of my son’s father. Having played poker with my aunt and uncle, I knew all about having a ‘poker face’. I could be trusted to not reveal the hand.
The game was going well. One of the poker games that seemed to be the favorite was called “Acey Deucy”, some people might know it as “High, Low”. To enter the hand, you had to pay a quarter into the pot. I thought to myself, “that’s not so bad”, but did not say a word to anyone. The way this game worked was the dealer would deal you two cards, one at a time, face up. If you were dealt an ace, the first one you had to call whether you wanted it to be high (card) or low (card). After that, you now would bet on the third card coming between the two that were in front of you. A good hand would be something like having a king and a deuce. The third card would have to come between that. The only cards that could cause you to lose would be either a king or a deuce…or an ace. If you by some miraculous way were dealt an ace (and you called it low), the second one dealt (if you were lucky) would automatically be considered high, then it would be a no-brainer to most that you could safely bet the pot and win.
I was so intrigued with this game that it must have shown on my face during their little breaks while the cards were being shuffled. Doc looked at me and asked again if I wanted to play. Again I declined, but I’m pretty sure that I didn’t look like I didn’t want to play. My son’s father even chimed in with encouragement to join. To this day, I still can’t believe I actually joined that game. I did, and boy did I learn a very valuable lesson.
After losing a few hands of maybe somewhere around $10.00, there was a hand dealt me that was utterly unbelievable. The first card was an ace, I called it low. The second card was amazingly another ace! That meant it was an automatically high card. Even though this appeared to be a sure thing, I felt a bit of hesitation in what to do. I looked at my ex, and he said with a grin on his face: “Go for it”, I bet the pot. I believe at the time there was about $85.00 in it. I mean this was a no-brainer, right? I almost fell out of my chair when the third card was another ace! Doc, who had been dealing actually did knock his chair over, in his glee over my loss. My hand was shaking a little when I pulled out the large sum of money from my income tax return and put it in the pot. My poor husband felt guilty, even though the decision had clearly been mine to make.
Normally, most people like me who are not gamblers would have pulled out of the game and walked away. For some reason, I could not bring myself to do that. I believe I was thinking that it would make me look like a sore loser. So I stayed in the game and played very conservatively. About half an hour went by and sure enough, I was dealt another set of cards that were a pretty large spread. Deuce as low and king as high. By this time, with no one betting the pot it had grown to about $175.00. You would have thought I had learned my lesson. I looked at my husband who knew what I was thinking and without me saying a word said to me: “Go ahead, I have you covered.” So I bet the pot one more time and this time I was dealt a queen. I had won the pot! Whew, it was most of my money anyway. As my husband started to congratulate me, Doc became very agitated. With borderline anger, I looked at him and said something about most of it being my money anyway. He must have realized exactly what he sounded like and changed his tone immediately. We played for about another 15 minutes, before he decided he had enough, and left with our friend from up the road.
I knew I had been extremely lucky that day. I learned not only that I didn’t ever want to do that again, but I learned something about Doc. I figured out that the only reason he wanted me to play was that he saw an easy mark. What he didn’t know and neither did I at the time, was that God was watching out for me. I didn’t figure that out for a few months. Every time we would all get together to play cards, our regular games, not poker and Doc insisted on me joining in. I would beat him, every single time. It was uncanny. No matter what game it was, or whether we were playing singles, instead of partners.
I also noticed that Doc seemed to be gaining a certain kind of respect for me. He even would laugh at himself when he lost.
Life went on. The drive to work was not long and living in the country, it was usually very peaceful with great scenic views. It was in Autumn, on a pretty fall afternoon when on my way to work, I couldn’t believe my eyes at what was on the front yard of one of the houses I went past every day. The car of my dreams! A 1970’s Chevrolet Camaro!! I’m not sure which year in the 70’s it was, but there it was in pristine condition and FOR SALE!!! There was no time to stop I had to get to work. I thought about that car that whole day. It was dark on the way home but it didn’t stop me from thinking about the car. From the time the Camaro first hit the car market in 1967, it was my dream car. Working as a cashier, I knew there was no way I could pretend to even think I could afford this car. It didn’t stop me from admiring it every single day I passed by that house.
One evening, I was doing the dishes, again dreaming about this car. My son and his dad were both already in bed for the night. There was a knock at the door startling me out of my silly musings about ‘the Camaro’. Wondering who would be stopping by on a work night, I answered the door. It was Doc. This surprised me due to the time of the week and that it was in the evening. I of course let him in. I explained that my husband was sleeping already but if it was important, I could wake him up. He said no it wasn’t important. He had already taken a seat at the kitchen table so I assumed that he just wanted to chat for a moment. He asked how I was doing and to this day, I can’t believe that I told him all about the Camaro for sale. Even as I was telling him, I couldn’t believe that I was. I mean as I went on and on about the car and how it was my dream car, I even thought I sounded silly. Not only did Doc look interested in what I was saying, but when I finally wore myself out, he waited for about a split second before responding. As I listened to him, my first thought was that he was teasingly making fun of me. He was excited for me and asked me how much was the car selling for? I still had no clue. I mean what would the point be to ask? I knew the only amount I could even dream of coming up with was about $100.00. I said as much to Doc. I never expected his reply. He told me to go find out and then make sure that it was alright with my husband that he, Doc would lend me the money. After mentally picking myself up from the floor from shock, I very politely declined the very generous offer. I told him I couldn’t afford it. He then told me the reasons why I could. They were that 1), he wouldn’t be charging me interest on the loan, and 2), I could set the payments up in the amount I could afford, and take as long as I needed to pay him back. I just sat there and kept telling myself that this was not happening and there had to be a catch somewhere. I politely thanked him and told him I would talk to my husband the next day. Doc got up to leave telling me he would be back in a week.
I almost didn’t tell my ex about this. But finally decided to tell him like it was amusing. He said that I should at least go find out how much the owners were asking for the car. I left for work that day early so I could do just that. I was a nervous wreck walking up to the door. The woman who answered was very pleasant and told me they were asking $3,000.00 for the car. She told me some of the particulars like the mileage on the car, and the actual year it was. All of which I can’t remember. I do remember that everything was reasonable for that time era.
When I got home that evening I told my ex and he also thought the amount and the particulars about the car were reasonable. He added that he had no problem with Doc lending me the money. He then said as gently as he could that I should not get my hopes up about Doc coming back to find out how much I needed to borrow. I had to admit I did agree with him. So when the day came that Doc said he would be back, I truly was not expecting him. Dreaming he would show up? Absolutely! When the knock actually did sound on the door that night, I don’t know who was more surprised, me or my ex. I answered the door and there as he had promised was Doc. He came in and he and my ex bantered back and forth about a few things, sports, work, etc. I busied myself cleaning up the supper dishes and all-around neatening up the kitchen. Doc finally turned to me and asked if I had found out how much the car was. I told him the price; he turned to my ex and asked if he would have a problem with him lending me the money. My ex asked if he was sure. Doc affirmed that he also thought it was a fair price and would have no problems lending it to me. As my ex gave his approval, Doc stood up to leave; he turned to me with a grin and said “looks like you are going to have your dream car kiddo. I’ll be back next Thursday with the cash.”
It was the longest week ever. But Thursday finally came around. I was so excited, I could barely breathe. I waited as patiently as possible, trying to keep myself busy. It finally got so late, I had to face it that Doc was not coming. As a matter of fact, we never saw him again. I thought all kinds of horrible thoughts of something happening to him, but finally a few months later one of our friends said they had seen him at some local hangout a couple of towns over.
I remember asking my ex why Doc made the offer to lend me the money if he clearly had no intention to. I had not asked him for anything. When telling him about the car in the first place it was only because it was what I was thinking about when he showed up that first night. By this time I was crying. This hurt! I was not in the habit of getting my hopes up about things that were clearly out of my reach.
My ex looked at me with compassion. He got up and came over to hug me to him as he tried to explain about people like Doc. He said something along the lines of this: “First of all, you don’t really know what kind of effect you have on people do you? People meet you and the first reaction they usually have is surprised that someone like you even exists. When they are talking to you, you treat them as if they are important. You give your undivided attention to them. It doesn’t matter if you are in a room full of people you still make them feel as if they are the only person in the room. In other words, you treat them with respect. People like Doc, are not used to that. They love the feeling and end up wanting to do nice things for you. But they are who they are for a reason. They are people who do not follow through with promises. They are people who believe that they are the most important person there is…even though deep down they know they can’t be counted on for anything except to let others down.”
I wasn’t quite sure I agreed with everything my ex had said about me. But throughout the years, his words came up at the most needed times. Usually, it was when I was about to get scammed by someone else. His words also helped in nurturing a gift I never even knew I had. Well, actually to be clearer on it, I believe it was an actual tool that God placed inside me. For a long time, I called it being able to read body language in whomever I was interacting with. As I grew in my Christianity, I realize the actual word for this ‘tool’ is discernment. Most of the time, it comes as a feeling that something is not quite right with the person I happen to be talking to. No explanation of what is not right, just a feeling. I have learned to trust that feeling. I do not have to react to it I just have to recognize that it is there and pay attention.
I feel some of these times having this ability actually saved my life. The feeling would come to me as a warning. So strong at times I felt like I would choke on it. Often though, the feeling would allow me an insight into the mood of the person I would be interacting with.
Today, as I look back on my journey, I can honestly say that the ‘Docs’ of this world no longer have an effect on me, and most times I can see them coming a mile away.