Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

would be played, on Tuesday, and Thursday nights! The “tournament” would then finish up—on Hockey Night In Canada, the following Saturday!

In theory, anyway, on Monday—April 20th, one week hence—Mr. Stackhouse would present himself, at the immense housing project! And present him—poor-till-then Jason Rutkowski—with $2500.00! Coin of the realm! What a joyful day THAT will be!

The fact that the gentleman did not show, on that particular Monday was a little disconcerting. But, the wager did have “a whole ‘nother week” to run! And Detroit still did lead the series—three games to one.

Wednesday, April 15, 1942: The day after Toronto had won their second game—of the best-of-seven-games tournament! Again, no sign, of one Hurley Stackhouse! That fact was becoming “a teensie weensie bit” of concern, for Our Hero! Especially since the sainted “booking agent” had not put in an appearance—on the previous day either! Was he deserting?

The “gathering-clouds”-type, more-than-troubling, worry had lessened—significantly—that evening, when Jason and Valerie attended a live production, of Sigmund Romberg’s operetta, The Student Prince, at downtown Detroit’s Masonic Temple.

The couple had been totally enchanted by the performance—and wound up singing a “corny duet” (quoth Jason) of the beautiful ballad, Deep In My Heart, all the way to Valerie’s parents’ home. Well, they’d had to “tone the musicale down, a little”—when they’d stopped, at the Marcus eatery, for “traditional” hamburgers and coffee, on the way home.

Alone, though, back in his glorious ’35 Dodge—on his way, back to Ohio Street—the Stackhouse difficulties had begun to seep through, once again.

Friday, April 17, 1942: The Toronto Maple Leafs had defeated the Red Wings, the night before—by a score of 3-to-0! The entire Motor City (this was well before the metropolis became known as “MoTown”) seemed to “have their knickers in a knot”, over the now-precarious situation!

The “knickers” saying—was yet another phrase, from the future! But, the bromide, more-than-adequately, described the overwhelming “knot”—in which the entire town had found itself! Not only had the team, from Canada, tied the series—at three games each, overcoming what had seemed to have been totally insurmountable odds—but, the Leafs had succeeded in turning the now-daunting momentum! Pivoting it—in their favor! Toronto’s goalie, Turk Broda, had just shut out the Red Wings! Not good! One of the League’s premier goaltenders! And he was “getting hot”!

Jason’s ever-tightening personal “knot” was becoming more and more stifling! Especially since that vaunted solid citizen, Hurley Stackhouse, had been “conspicuous by his absence”—on both Thursday and Friday! On vacation, maybe? Religious sabbatical? Yeah—right.

Jason’s date, with his recently-ringed fiancée—that evening and night—didn’t do much to dispel the, fast-accumulating, storm clouds! The couple had opened the evening’s festivities—by dining at The Blue Ribbon restaurant.

Valerie’s concern—vis-a-vis her intended—came into play, early-on. And when she’d spent a nickel, playing one of Jason’s favorite records—There Are Such Things (which had been the last recording that Frank Sinatra would make, with Tommy Dorsey’s band)—and the music had had no obvious effect, on her date—she became somewhat rattled!

“Jason? What’s the matter? What’s up?”

“Huh? What? What do you mean?”

“You know damn well . . . what I mean! Your body is here! But, your brain . . . and everything else . . . is, I’m sure, somewhere else!”

“Uh… it’s nothing. Nothing, really. I’m all right.”

“Oh yeah? What’s playing? What’s… on the jukebox?”

“Uh… The White Cliffs Of Dover. I think it’s Kay Kyser’s band.”

“That took you awhile. Took you way too long! Now, tell ‘Mama Val’ . . . what’s up! Tell her what’s wrong!”

“There’s nothing wrong, ‘Mama Val’! Honest!”

“Jason… don’t try and poop the troops. I haven’t known you… all that long. But, it’s been long enough… to know that something’s up. Is it… is it something I’ve done?”

“You? Good God no! What’d make you think that? You’re the best thing… the best thing… that ever happened to me!”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you say that! I know that there are times… when I come across, as being on top! On top of everything! But… believe me… that’s far from being true! It’s just an illusion… albeit, really, not one that’s intentional! Far from it! But, I think that I know you well enough… to know when something’s not right! If it’s not me . . . than who is it? What is it? Surely, it can’t be Susie! Or Eric!”

“No… nothing like that! Look, Valerie. I made what is possibly the most stupid bet! The damndest, dumbest, bet… in my entire life!”

“A bet? A bet . . . has you this upset? What kind of bet?”

“Well, one that I really had no business making . . . for one thing. A shot… at making myself a lot of money! A hell of a lot of money! And now, it looks as though… as though I might actually win!”

“Win? That doesn’t sound like anything… but, good! Doesn’t sound… like it’d be something, to dread!”

“Well, it’s who I made the bet with. Y’see? When the Red Wings were up… three-games-to-none… for ‘The Cup’, this guy offered me twenty-five-to-one odds! Twenty-five-to-one . . . that the Wings wouldn’t win it all! Well now, the damn Maple Leafs have tied the thing! The series is tied . . . at three games apiece. Whoever wins game seven… tomorrow night, in Toronto… well, they’re the Stanley Cup Champions!”

“Maybe the Wings’ll win it, and… ! Wait a minute! How much’ll you lose . . . if that happens?”

“A hundred bucks,” he groused.

“Holy you-know-what! Jason! What in the hell . . . what in the hell… would’ve prompted you, to make a bet like that? Especially… with that kind of money, for heaven’s sake? Good Lord! A hundred dollars!”

“I don’t know. It was just a feeling . . . a stupid damn feeling . . . that I had at the time. I figured that it might… it just might . . . be a chance, for me! A chance, to come away… with more money, than I ever knew existed!”

“And that was why you were feeling so… feeling so… so persnickety that one night? That really big night? A week or so ago? At Elliason’s? Is that why you were rattling on… about how we can now talk? Talk about how we can go ahead… and get married? Set a date? Is that . . . what