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Show page 228 Fewky reminds them a l l of the time Florida Red slapped Stacker Lee. "Started right in here, over nothing. Stacker cut Red every way but loose, which explains the spots near the front door and why Red i s dead and Stacker doing fifteen years." Time is limited with Blue and Jabbo, so "Big swamp gator with a scaly back cotch two fat sheep from across the track! Roll 'em, Tang!" says Blue, mighty, tushy Blue, in a nonexclusive game, sizing an old b i l l the width of a bed sheet. " I t ' s welcome, a i n ' t i t ? " And he throws i t in. Papa Jack gets the dice. Papa shoots the Hudson better than Florida Red, Pick Handle Slim, Jabbo, or Big Blue. He ' won a l l Cap'n Hendricks's cotton money before he left the gin and Big Cap'n d i d n ' t know from when. "Tator don't grow without a vine," he chants. "Watermelon comes with a big thick rind. Get down, a l l ." Turner Rice by the lamp makes a side bet. I t ' s Fewky's,the hot music of opus sixty-two and seven eighths, where cats ride t h e i r t r a i n just as far as they can shovel the coal, where ancient Sanskrit is legal comparison to what passes for English, where Pick Handle Slim calls his own dice. Slim's a comparative newcomer, late of Memphis, but already has a woman and is well known. Nine is his point. "Nina Mae McKinsey, d i c e . " He misses. "Quinine, the b i t t e r dose." He misses again. He picks up the dice on a certain combination, makes them cluck like a setting hen. "I'm raggedy but I'm 'round here. I judge money by sight, can see |