Page 8 of The Chemist

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ZERO

Six Months Ago

Voices filled the evening air, children complaining that they were cold while their parents scolded them for not wearing their mittens properly. Others laughed and cheered, taking in all the sights that New York had to offer in mid-January. In the city that never sleeps, there was always something going on. Some show to be seen, some food to be tasted, some music to be danced to.

That was the fun side of New York.

The other, much darker side was not so cheery and welcoming. It was in the dangers of the shadows where the more questionable deeds were done. Junkies turned to their dealers, hoping to score more crank, gangs walked the streets flexing their muscles and wreaking havoc on those that got in their way.

This was the side of New York that tourists feared to tread. With every great city comes a darker, more dangerous side to it. It was in this part of New York where Zero spent most of hislife, honing his skills and learning tough life lessons. He had his father to thank for that.

“Who’s next?” Zero called out, looking up from his table into the smiling faces of tourists all around him. “Test your skills. Show me what you got! It’s easy. Follow the balls with your eyes, and if you can guess what cup the ball is under, you win! Only twenty dollars to play!”

Staring out at the faces, he watched the gamblers as they assessed their odds. There were three cups, all upside down. One ball that they had to follow as he shuffled the cups around. It wasn’t hard. You just had to be quick with your eyes.

“So, who do we got? Who’s got the balls and the talent to beat me at this game?” He knew that egging the gamblers on would give them the push that they needed to step forward and give him their money. With hardcore gamblers, it was their sense of pride that was always their undoing. Whenever they lost at a casino or card game, it was their wounded pride that always kept them betting more or pulling that lever one… last… time.

Yes, Zero knew how to work a man. Play on their weakness, stroke their ego, gain their confidence. He had his daddy to thank for that.

“Anyone?” Zero threw his hands up in the air, locking eyes with a cocky gentleman wearing a tanned trench coat and a five-thousand-dollar watch. “Does no one have the skills to challenge me and my swift hands?”

And there it was. That cocky smirk on the man’s face that told Zero he was going down. About to be beaten by a man who was smarter, faster, and more successful than he.

Poor chump.

“I’ll take you up on that,” the cocky man said, taking a step through the crowd and stopping right before his table.

“Finally! A man willing to test his skills and prove to the world how truly gifted he really is.” Zero gave him a wink as the cocky bastard smirked back at him.

The man pulled a twenty out of his wallet and handed it to Zero for safekeeping.

“You win this challenge, and you get back your twenty, plus twenty of my own,” Zero explained, loving the confidence oozing out of this guy.

“You can do it, honey!” a pretty blonde shouted over his shoulder.

Of course it was a blonde. This guy was so cliché. Zero couldn’t wait to beat this man and put him in his place.

He tucked the man’s twenty into the stack of twenties he already had, then gave the guy a smile of his own.

Holding the tiny plastic ball up to the crowd, he raised his hand, encouraging cheers from those gathered around. The more they participated, the more excited they got and believed that they had a chance at winning this simple game.

He placed the ball under the center cup and pressed play on the music app on his phone. Dance music played as he began moving the cups around on the black velvet cloth he had laid out on the table just for show.

Left and right, and around and around, he moved the cups at varying speeds.

The crowd shouted, cheering the cocky man on. This was the part he loved. The audience and the player all thinking that the game was so easy and the win was guaranteed.

After a minute, he stopped moving the cups and took a step back.

“Now, dear sir, please tell me which cup the ball is under?”

With a confident smirk, the man pointed to the cup on the left.

“Are you sure?” Zero asked, giving the man one more chance to change his mind.

“Yes. It’s under there, guaranteed.”

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