My Brother's Keeper by Adrienne Wilder Page B

revealed the quarter. “You are very good at this.”
    He shuffled the cups and, again, Rudy picked the right one. One last time and Rudy still won.
    “I told you,” Rudy said. “I’m good at this game. I’m very good.”
    The booth owner pulled out a handful of tickets. “You want to play to win?”
    Ellis pulled on Rudy’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”
    “Hey, I gave you a fair game. You should give me one back.”
    “Ellis.” Jon held out five tickets. “Let him play.”
    This could only end badly. Ellis handed over the tickets and the shuffling began. Rudy found the quarter the next two times. He clapped his hands and almost bumped into the table. Jon caught him by the shoulder. “Easy there, we don’t want to bring down the house.”
    “I didn’t touch it.”
    “No, but you almost ran into it.”
    The man piled up his losses. “One more round? To see if I can win back what I’ve lost.”
    Hope filled Rudy’s big blue eyes. It made it impossible to say no.
    “One more time. That’s all.” Ellis stepped back. This time when the guy shuffled, the cups moved in a blur. Ellis glanced at Jon. They’d been played. Now he was going to be left with trying to explain to his brother why he didn’t win. The lack of tickets would also cut into their visit. He should have never agreed to this. Rudy falling for it was one thing, but Ellis didn’t have an excuse.
    The man stopped moving the cups. His smile was crooked and his eyes narrow. It was the look of a man who knew he’d won.
    Rudy stared at the cups.
    The man said, “Pick one.”
    Rudy kept staring at the cups.
    “C’mon, my friend, pick a cup. Win the tickets, and then you can ride everything here twice.”
    “What’s wrong?” Jon said.
    Rudy shook his head. “The quarter isn’t there.”
    Ellis looked at Jon. He raised an eyebrow.
    The man at the table waved a hand at the cups. “Of course it’s there.”
    Rudy shook his head again. “No, it’s not. You put it in your pocket. You shouldn’t lie. Lying is bad. The quarter isn’t there, Jon. I’m good at this game and the quarter isn’t there.”
    “You just don’t want to lose. Now who’s ripping who off?” The man scowled, but flicked a nervous look at Rudy.
    “Turn over all the cups,” Jon said. “If the quarter is under there, you can keep the tickets.”
    The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The cups stayed where they were. “If you are going to accuse me of cheating, take your tickets and go.”
    Jon scooped up the pile and stuffed it in his pocket. “C’mon.”
    “He was lying,” Rudy said. “He was lying, the quarter was in his pocket.”
    Ellis pushed Rudy forward. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t lose your tickets, that’s all that matters.”
    “But I won.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    “But I didn’t get the tickets.”
    “It’s okay,” Jon said. “I’ll win you something at the duck shoot.”
    As long as that game didn’t turn out like the first two.
    They found the duck shoot stuffed between the archery and the darts. Lines of rubber ducks moved on a conveyor belt, hidden behind wooden water waves. It was almost as tacky as the assortment of stuffed animals covering the walls. The combination gave the place a kind of backwoods toy store feel. Plastic guns were held in place on the counter by Y shaped holders. People crowded the front, shooting at the ducks. On occasion, one fell.
    “You sure this is safe?” Ellis said.
    “The pellets are plastic, they’re safe.” He paid the booth owner and picked up one of the guns. Jon aimed and Ellis was reminded what he’d done for a living. It might have been a plastic gun, but somehow Jon made it look lethal. He pulled the trigger and every pellet hit home, knocking over a duck behind the conveyor belt. Ten in all then the gun clicked empty.
    Rudy stared at Jon in awe. “You hit all the ducks.”
    Jon blew on the end of the gun. “And that, Rudy, is how you smoke ducks.”
    “I want to