1K READS 1K READS 1K READS 1K READS 1K READS--HOW?! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!

Okay, here's to picking up right where we left off! Time for step two: meet the Gambler. Enjoy! :)

Race cranes his neck to look up at the Gambler. Somehow, his face is still cloaked in shadows. Will Race ever actually see the guy's face?

Will I remember it?

Oh, who am I kidding?

Of course I'm gonna remember his face!

However, he has temporarily forgotten how to speak.

Luckily, Spot hasn't.

"We know that you knew Theodore "Stargazer" Conlon," Spot tells him.

The Gambler looks at Jameson. Jameson nods. Whatever communication went on right there, it seems to have worked.

"Come on in," the Gambler tells them. He motions inside his house.

As calmly as he can muster, Race walks inside, followed by Spot, with Jameson closing the door behind them.

Race takes in absolutely everything that he can.

It's a small room. Nice and simple. There's a coat rack and a lamp on either side of the entrance and a rug underneath their feet, a table in the middle of the room, one that they all get seated at; Race and Spot sitting together, Jameson and the Gambler sitting across from them (the Gambler is right across from Race right now); a sofa a little further back, and everything typically found in a dining/living room.

"So how did you kids stumble across something such as this whole mess?"

Why does everyone keep calling us kids? Race thinks, a teeny bit annoyed. If he appears to be a child in the eyes of the Gambler, what'll stop everyone else from viewing him as a child?

But that's not what's important right now.

Spot opens his mouth to respond, but Race beats him to it, feeling a rush of confidence. He sets the box on top of the table. "These all belong to the Brooklyn newsie we all called Stargazer." He nudges Spot with his shoulder. "This is his cousin here. Now, we came here because we wanted to find you."

Well, yeah, no duh. Race feels his face heat up. Surely that made sense, right? Not repetitive? Or rhetorical? How can he prove he's not a kid anymore if he still can't talk right?

Spot comes to his rescue. "My cousin had a lot of things to say about you." He opens up the box. "We found this in his bedroom. That's how we found out about it all. We're trying to piece together what we can."

"And why do you think I would be the one to help you piece together everything?" the Gambler asks them.

"Because you're the Gambler!" Race bursts. "Elusive, mysterious, secretive, and infamous. You know all the in's and out's of everything. If anyone could give us the answers we want, it would most certainly be you!"

The Gambler smiles. "I'm flattered, really."

Race looks down. Sure, looking down won't help him memorize the Gambler's face (which is still hidden under the shadow of his hat--who controls the lighting here??), but eye contact has never been his thing.

"We want to know more about the taken," Spot tells him. "And where they are."

"Alas, I don't know where they are," the Gambler shakes his head sadly. "If I did, they would no longer be taken. They know how to hide people well. The tricky thing is figuring out if the taken are still...on this Earth."

Race gulps. He doesn't need any literal translation of the phrase. But this still makes him nervous, just a little. They could be dealing with something darker than they thought, and they wouldn't even know it.

"Do you know maybe who has been taken?" Spot asks instead. "Surely you must've known all--or at least, a lot--of them."

"Most of those trying to stop Them have met me at least once," the Gambler acknowledges. "If you want, I can tell you what I know about them."

Race nods. "Mhm. We would like that very much."

"Anyone in particular you have in mind?" the Gambler asks.

Among the papers, Spot pulls out a list that he and Race wrote yesterday. They were ready to ask this question. "Andrea Pacino and Giacomo Acquaviva. Annie Kelly. Giovanni and Mattia Bonoforte." Spot looks up. "as well as Theodore Conlon."

"Good thing I remember all of those people well," the Gambler tells them.

Spot and Race lean forward a little. This is what they've been waiting for.

"I met Andrea and Giacomo while they were out gambling," the Gambler starts off. "I played cards with them. We had a lot of pleasant conversation. We decided we wanted to meet up again. Thick as thieves, those two were. Couldn't ever see one without the other. Well, after a few times, they told me that they knew that there actually was no earthquake like the one described in the papers. It was all a set up. They told me that they knew who did it. They told me that they knew that I knew about Them. And so we stuck together. Sometimes we would harmlessly play with cards. Other times, we would talk about what we had learned in the time since we last saw each other. Signor Moretti's restaurant was always a safe space for us--you see, Moretti and I go way back. He would let us in to the back and leave us be. We knew we could trust him. Andrea and Giacomo looked up to him. And Moretti loved them. They told me that they had just learned something big, just a few years back in '94. They said they could finish what ol' Theo started. I haven't seen them since."

Race nods, taking it all in. The story adds up pretty well. He remembers when they went missing, all those years ago. So they didn't leave without reason. They didn't leave at all. They were taken.

"Annie Kelly stuck mostly to herself," the Gambler continues. "Fiercely independent. Even when she was ten. Around that time, I had made it into the papers. Luckily, no one knew anything about me. Just vague little details. I met her face to face one day. She didn't believe me when I told her I was the same gambler that was in the newspaper she was selling. She told me that she just assumed that I was a story fabricated by the World to sell more good headlines. I knew we were going to get along swell. Over the years, we'd meet up every now and then, and talk about the headlines that were just fabricated to be headlines, but as I said, Annie kept to herself, only meddling in other's affairs rarely. You said she was taken recently?"

Spot nods. "In July. We held a rally then for our strike. Supposedly, she knew something about the men gathering to talk about the price of newspapers--and more. No one's seen her after then."

The Gambler nods slowly. "Sounds right. She always knew to see through every word or action made by the newspaper companies. She was on to something. But this time, it seems she got herself into too much trouble."

That's how they all turn out, don't they? They think they can handle it. They're so close to exposing people. But then they're found. And never seen again.

Now, the Gambler looks right at Race. "I assume you're related to Signor Giovanni and Signora Mattia, right?"

That catches Race off guard. The Gambler is speaking directly to him. He nods. "Y-yeah. They'se my grandparents." He looks down. "And Edward and Letteria Higgins are my parents."

"Ah, yes. I knew all of them well."

Race looks up again. He gets to learn more about his family. Finally.

"I actually was the one who helped your parents meet," he tells Race with a smile. "This was a couple decades ago. I was working with both of them separately. Edward and I had a good long run together, and would meet up for poker regularly--when we wanted a break for searching for Them. I worked a lot with Letteria and her parents--such an amazing couple. Anyway, I brought both parties together at a casino. For your parents, they just knew instantly that they had just met the person that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with. They went on searches by themselves for Them, without me coordinating anything. They made a pretty good team. Next thing I know, they're engaged, then married, and a few years later, I heard that they had a child named Antonio Edward Higgins. Named both for his grandfather and his father--two of the greatest male relatives that one could possibly have. Let's not forget your mother and your grandmother. If given the chance, they could easily run the world, and give everyone a run for their money."

There are a few chuckles going around as that image plays through their minds. 

"I'm just sad that you never got to meet them. That fire ... it surprised everyone. All of us who knew them, all who knew that they knew. We knew that it was no accident that the building caught on fire. No one knows if having nearly one hundred percent casualties was a part of the plan, but either way, it worked. And made a great headline. We all thought Edward and Letteria would keep going forever. Turns out, no one is invincible. Not even them."

Race sighs. This is hard to hear. "What about my grandparents?"

"Your grandparents were so devoted to the cause and believed whole-heartedly in what they were doing. I wish you could have met them too. They were nice, strong, brave--everything a great couple should be. And they had finally figured it out. They finally figured out who They are--or at least who some of Them are. Then they were taken."

"And I was left in Stargazer's care," Race finishes the story quietly. "But since he couldn't take care of me due to his involvement as well, I was left in the care of Manhattan."

Spot puts an arm around Race. This is a lot to take in at once.

"There's one thing that I still don't get," the Gambler mentions. "You were in the burning building too. You were the only one out of all those people who survived. How?"

Race shrugs. "Believe me, I wish I knew."

Out of all the details that we can't figure out, it had to be that one.

There are a few moments of silence when no one is quite sure what to say.

"What do you know about my cousin?" Spot asks quietly. "What do you know about Stargazer?"

"I remember meeting him eighteen years ago," the Gambler tells them. "Calling him Stargazer was the smartest thing people did. He was always looking up at the sky. And he always saw the big picture. That was the good thing about us: we could piece together the bigger picture. He was on the young side when he started--even younger than you. I saw in his eyes he had that spark. He was going to do great things. He had a bright future ahead of him. And of all the people who knew about Them, he was the one that pushed boundaries the furthest. It got to the point where I was telling him that he should be cautious. Some times he would listen. Some times, he wouldn't. He promised that he would be careful. That he wouldn't get caught. That he wouldn't leave any evidence behind. But They were on to him. He had to run. But he was also on the hunt himself. Up until the very end, he had the most spirit and determination of anyone I had ever met. I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you when he disappeared all those years ago."

Spot lowers his head. "In just these couple of days, I've learned more about him than I've known about him my whole life. Thank you for that."

"I think that wraps up all the information I have on the people taken you know about," the Gambler finishes after a few beats. "Is there anything or anyone else you want information on?"

"Do you have any names of who all is a part of Them?" Spot asks.

The Gambler shakes his head. "I wish. I have speculations, but no solid evidence. I know that some of those working for the World are in on it. And a decade ago Stargazer was on to something when he was taken. Except, the rest of us never learned if he found out if he was right or not, or all he discovered. And so, just like myself, They remain nameless people."

A small shy grin tugs at Race's lip. "Speaking of names ... and your name ... could you maybe, I don't know..."

The Gambler raises his eyebrow. "You want to know my name?"

How does he only raise one eyebrow?

Race nods vigorously. "Yeah!"

The Gambler turns to the man sitting beside him. "What do you think, Jameson? Are these two trustworthy enough?"

Jameson looks at them. At Race's earnest face. At Spot's face that reminds him all too much of Stargazer. "These two, my friend, have shown determination and steadfastness when many others would have given up by now, or turned away. They want to know everything. And they want to embark on the dangerous task of finding the taken. If anyone is trustworthy enough, it's these two."

The Gambler smiles at Race and Spot. "Alright, then. Welcome to the unofficial club of those who know about Them!"

Race leg bounces excitedly underneath the table. He wants to show his excitement in many other ways too, but he can't do any of them right here and now. So he tries channeling all of that energy into his one leg.

I finally get to learn the Gambler's name.

Seven years. For seven years he has just been 'the Gambler.'

Now he's going to be more.

He shoots an excited glance at Spot. This is it!

Spot smiles with him. He understands why the Gambler is so wary of telling them his name. For someone who only goes by the Gambler, there are probably many things that he doesn't want the world to know. If he knows this much about Them, and so much more, and is trying not to be taken, then it's understandable that he trusts very few people with his name.

The Gambler smiles at them. "My name is Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus," he introduces himself. 

Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus.

Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus.

Race's mind is never letting this name go. 

Never, never, never.

Fortunato. That means fortunate in Italian. Is the Gambler Italian?

Race looks at the Gambler--Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus--in awe.

"So ... will you help us try to find the taken?" Spot presses lightly. "Or at least, point us in some direction?"

The Gambler sighs deeply. "This is going to be hard. And very risky. And there's a good change that if you'll go, you'll be taken too."

"Can't you come?" Race asks in a small voice.

Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus shakes his head. "I'm a very busy man. And you must understand. There are just some risks that I cannot take."

Race hangs his head. He understands.

"If I try going out there, They are going to want me dead. And I can't let that happen to you two. But, I'm not sending you out there alone," he assures them. He turns to Jameson. "Get Smoky Lung, will ya?"

As Jameson stands up and walks to a door further back to fetch this someone, Spot and Race exchange very confused glances.

Smoky Lung?

Then comes a modestly-dressed young man out of another room with Jameson. "You wanted me, sir?"

Race knows that face.

Race could never forget that face.

That face could never forget him either.

It's Ray.

I TOLD YOU A PLOT TWIST WAS COMING I TOLD YOU YES I DID I TOLD YOU

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Those are my emotions while writing the ending.

And I'm the one who knew what the ending was haha.

But still. I'm so happy!!

It is under ten minutes until 2:00 am and I now have to figure out how the heck I'm going to explain this plot twist.

So what did you think of this whole thing?

I LOVE long names. Was that obvious?

Ok so here's the thing. Fortunato is Italian for fortunate/wealth(y). Alam is Babylonian and means shadow. Ishmael (...came from Moby Dick haha) is Hebrew that means God Will Hear. Celesto is Latin, meaning heavenly. And the surname Nephus is Greek, translating to son of god who will eventually become a god.

I thought those all fit our friend The Gambler perfectly.

I knew I had to name the Gambler Fortunato. But he is going to be a lot luckier than the Fortunato in Edgar Allan Poe's story The Cask of Amontillado.

Speaking of the name Ishmael, I highly recommend the book Ishmael by Daniel Quinn.

So what do you think of the Gambler?

And was the name reveal good enough?

Now you know more about Them. And what happens to those who know about Them. Kind of. There's still more to learn. But more knowledge was added on, definitely.

Turns out casinos have been around since the 17th century in Italy. I kinda just hoped that by 1899 they would have made their way over to New York, America.

I won't keep you any longer! You have another chapter to read! :)

(That is, if you want to read it. I won't force you to read it.)

Please, no homophobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section at all times.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (whose heartbeat and mind are all over the place due to the ending)