It was after eleven on a Wednesday night, but we were only short one player. It was a five and ten dollar limit game with a kill pot. I was up about a hundred dollars. I was going to leave after the button passed when Cha-Ka came to play. He sat in the one seat. I doubt the old timers knew who he was. The college kids sure didn’t. Cha-Ka posted and the cards were dealt.“You finally got out of there, huh?” I asked catching his deep set eyes. Cha-Ka grunted and smiled in that big teeth Cha-Ka way.“Cha-Ka.” Cha-Ka hissed.

I was on the button and pulled pocket queens. It was a kill pot and I raised $10.00. The blinds and everyone else folded, except Cha-Ka. Cha-Ka re-raised me $10.00. I had no idea what kind of player he was at this point, it was his first hand, I called him.
The flop came out K,7,8. Cha-Ka checked. I bet, he called.
I felt better figuring he didn’t pair up kings. He could be slowplaying, but I wouldn’t expect that from a Pakuni sized brain.
The turn was a J. Cha-Ka checked to me. I bet. He raised me. Shit, I thought. There was no flush on the board. Cha-Ka either has two pair or a straight. I called, just because I had to see what the hell he had. I mean how often would I get the chance to play with Cha-Ka. The river was a 2. No help to either of us. Cha-Ka bet, I called. He turned them over. He was holding 9, 10 suited.
“Nice hand Cha-Ka.” I lied.
“Cha-Ka” Cha-Ka said.
He was crouching on his chair, bouncing on his haunches, raking in his chips until the dealer told him he could not stand on his chair.
Some of the college punks started razzing Cha-Ka. The dealer was complaining that Cha-Ka smelled like wet dog.
“What the hell is he?” the old timer to my right whispered to me.
“He is a Pakuni, from the Land of the Lost, the son of Ta and Sa.” I told him, knowing that would mean nothing to him.
I played a few more hands, the table was getting ugly.
“Hey Cha-Ka, you want to go to a strip bar?” I said, racking up my chips.
Cha-Ka got up on his chair again.
The pit boss came over.
“It’s OK, we’re leaving.” I told him.
I walked with Cha-Ka to the cashiers window.
“You up or down?”
He looked down into the piles of red chips in his furry little hands.
“Cha-Ka.” he laughed.