A book by the psychologist Nanai, analyzing the lives of various people. Part
of it tells the story of a certain man's life as a gambler.
Prologue
No matter how alike two people may look on the outside, or how alike their
voices might sound -- even if they were parent and child; brother and sister --
no, even if you were to take your own cells and make another self from them, not
even then would they be the same. For all human lives, similar though they be,
are different!
You yourself are walking down a path that no one else can tread. Every event
on this road of life, no matter how important or trivial, is yours and yours
alone no matter how many centuries and millennia may pass.
Nanai Valencia
* * *
"The Chocobo Raceway" -- the only place in the country to permit gambling,
and it's packed with passionate racing fans every weekend. Chocobo owners, in
search of the huge payoffs for winning birds, come in from all over.
These races had been held nationwide, but thirty years ago, the previous king
issued an edict unifying the races at one single gambling arena, the Chocobo
Raceway. Considering how popular Chocobo racing was, they expected (and indeed
got, believe you me) huge profits; racing only became more popular, and the
betting grew to such proportions that on the day of a big race, amounts rivaling
the budget of a small nation might change hands. Moneymaking heaven, this was,
and people nicknamed the raceway "The Golden Palace".
Let's have a look, now, at a certain middle-aged man who's at the track
today.
His name is Tango. He'd take a Saturday of gambling over three meals a day,
and on this particular Saturday he's facing the biggest crisis of his life. A
little while ago, he withdrew 500,000 gil from the bank and then dropped his
wallet -- and then after that, troubles came so thick and fast that one could
hardly keep track of them.
Thuggish roughnecks accosted him in the street. Then, at his house (the loan
for which hadn't yet been paid off, mind you), there was a fire. Part of the
house was damaged, and any relief felt at the light damage was quickly offset
when this very same fact caused the insurance company to deny the claim.
'Tango's Papermaking', the business he'd just begun, went bankrupt. Upon which
Tango's wife left the house.
And then, just now, a black cat crossed our hero's path! After all this, all
Tango had was the 5ooo gil in his pocket. Many times, after losing money, Tango
had thought of giving up gambling. But today, in the very throes of despair, he
thought, "It's all over. There's nothing left for me in this world."
This day of inconsolable depression for our hero also happened to be a
chocobo racing day. In fact, it was the day of the "Great Race", which is only
held once a year. So Tango looked up at the blue sky and made a decision. "One
more race before I give up!" Depressed as he was, he couldn't stop so easily.
When he arrived at the track, the first race had already finished. But
because the payoffs were higher later in the day, he didn't mind. He picked up a
racing form that someone had tossed away, and headed into his usual bar.
But today, he couldn't relax. Ever since he got up in the morning, he'd been
hearing a buzz in his ears that just wouldn't stop.
He sat in his usual seat and ordered his usual drink. On his tab, of course.
Drink up and listen to what people are talking about.
This bar was inside the racetrack grounds, so as you might guess, people were
usually talking about chocobo racing. There were also lost of unrelated
conversations, such as men and women flirting, mixed in as well. Listening in on
everyone's banter was one of Tango's hobbies, but with the ringing in his ears,
he found himself utterly unable to concentrate.
He tried cleaning out his ears and pulling on them, and finally he caught
some people talking about chocobos in the second race. A lot of different birds'
names came up, and as it turned out, only one was never mentioned: Sol Cannon.
Tango decided that he would pull for Sol Cannon since no one else seemed to be
doing so -- no betting (as if he had money for that!), just honest support.
And then the race began. It was a short one -- just 1200 meters -- and so it
ended quickly. The winner: none other than Sol Cannon.
In the following races, Tango decided to root for the one chocobo whose name
he could never hear. And -- luck, coincidence, or something else? -- every time,
this one turned out to be the winning chocobo. All the chocobos that Tango
supported finished in the winner's circle. That, our hero noticed, had never
happened before.
Perhaps this ringing in Tango's ears was helping him. Could God be giving him
one last chance?
The next race ended the early session, and Tango decided that if this pattern
continued for this race, well, why not try it for the afternoon races? So he
went around listening to people talk, and as he heard names of chocobos, he
crossed them off the list that was in the paper he'd picked up. The only one
left for the fourth race was Hermaden.
And as Tango predicted, Hermaden won it!
Now it was time for lunch, and Tango could hardly stop himself from shaking.
"Quick, let's start racing again!"
He went down to the "Good Luck" restaurant, and once again sat in his usual
seat and ordered his usual drink, which, needless to say, went on his tab. While
Tango waited for his order to arrive, who should walk through the door but
Lance, a man who (in our hero's words) might be described as a "stuck-up,
full-of-himself, fancy-pants nogoodnik! And filthy rich, to boot!"
Then this Lance personage called out, "I say! Is that you, Tango?"
"Uh-huh. Mind keeping it down a bit?" replied our hero.
"So terribly sorry; just wanted to introduce this charming lady I just met."
And who should come into the restaurant behind Lance? Why, it was Tango's
wife!
"Lucilda, honey? What are you doing with a ruffian like Lance!?"
"......" She had no reply.
"Might I point out," Lance answered, "that 'twas you who upset her? Which is
why she's here on a date with me."
"My darling? Why are you with this... this...!?"
"Now, now, Tango, no need to get angry. Lucilda, staying here would only be
unpleasant. Let us dine at the caf? across the way instead."
As frustrated as Tango was, there was nothing he could do. "She certainly
won't come back to me if I fight with the man. Gotta get a hold of her before
she leaves."
"I'll win every race this afternoon! And then I'll give up gambling forever!"
Tango shouted. "Give me one more chance, my darling!"
There was nothing more to do than to hope to bump into her after the next
race.
'I'd sure like to get a fistful of money and wave it in that low-down Lance's
face, that rotten filth-monkey! And then I'll get my wife back!'
"Three races to go," thought Tango. "I'll have to use that ringing in my ears
if I want to win them all!"
Then an announcement over the loudspeaker: "Ladies and gentlemen, the fifth
race is about to start."
'Uh oh, they're starting already! I've gotta listen for as many names as I
can! And then hope that those chocobos don't win!'
There wasn't much time for Tango to waste, for the fifth race was only a few
minutes from getting underway. He decided to pick one place and listen for names
there. "Let's see... someplace where people are eating would be good. Back to
the 'Good Luck' restaurant!"
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