Wednesdays We Win Whe Whe

When Vik finally made it into the restroom at the Calypso Rest Stop, he leaned over the sink and threw up until his knees gave way. He started to cold sweat and sob uncontrollably.

“What do I do?” he kept asking himself.

After a few dry heaves, he pulled himself up and saw a ghastly face in the mirror. He shuddered. He opened the tap to wash down his vomit and then splashed some of the lukewarm water on his face.

“What do I do?”

He looked around at the old, dilapidated washroom and began to think. He then started pacing around the piss smelling, poorly lit space and started mumbling.

“What do I do?”

Nobody ever used the old Calypso Rest Stop on the Sir Solomon Hochoy highway, because it was old, neglected and an eyesore to passersby. It was once called the worst place in Trinidad and Tobago by a journalist in the Daily Express newspaper.

“It’s disgusting!” one person said.

“I’d rather hold it until I reach home,” said another.

“Demolish it!”

People just despised the place. One day however, Vik had no choice but to stop there. That’s where he met him.

“Whe Whe,” he said. “If you’re interested in making some good money, play Whe Whe on Wednesday at The Golden Palace restaurant in Debe.”

The stranger was eating a doubles on a bench and signalled Vik to come over when he came out of the men's room. He was an older man, tall and stocky and he had a full head of white hair with a bushy grey moustache.

“Just take a walk in the back of the building before you place your bet.”

Vik pulled out a piece of paper and stared at it. It was a receipt for a bet he had placed the week before. He bet one hundred thousand dollars, his entire life savings, that the number four would be drawn. If he won, he would receive ten times that amount.

“Dead man,” he whispered as he stared at his reflection.

He ran out of the room, jumped into his idling car and locked the doors. The sun was setting and he was five miles from home. He pondered for a bit while biting his fingernails, then he cranked up the air conditioning, rocked back his seat and closed his eyes. He was cold and alone.

Why did I come back here? he thought as he drifted away, the sound of the passing cars slowly fading.

A few months ago, Vikash Mohan was still living his routine life in Trinidad. He was thirty years old, was from Debe and lived with his mother in their little one storey house in Suchit Trace. He was a clerk at the Ministry of Education in Port of Spain, which meant he had to drive all the way from South Trinidad to North Trinidad and back, five days a week. It was gruelling. That was his life for the past ten years. Go to work. Go home. Sleep. Repeat. He never really did anything else. On weekends he just rested, by watching television or playing videogames.

“You too damn lazy!” his old mother would tell him, but he would pay her no attention.

Vik was average height with olive skin, had scruffy hair and a beard and was overweight. He was a college dropout who once had the dream of becoming a mechanical engineer. When he finally got a job though, something changed in him. He put his dream on the back burner and with the pot he put on the front burner, he began living his life like it was well and truly cooked.

“Get off your fat ass and do something with your life! Fix the roof! Find a wife and give me some grandchildren!”

The pay at his job was terrible. In fact, it was barely enough to make ends meet. Mortgage, loans, bills, house repairs, car maintenance, groceries… there was not much money left at the end of the month after that. However, it was like he resigned himself to living the life he had. Life could not get better and he did not do anything to try and improve it. It’s like he had become an NPC in one of his videogames, living the same life every day. He was no hero with a happy ending.

“All you do is work, play games and gamble.”

Gambling was the only thing Vik ever did to make extra money. He bet on football games, tennis matches and he even bought lottery tickets every week. He was hoping for a quick fix, depending on luck and chance instead of working hard for betterment. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he was just lazy.

“The Golden Palace?” Vik asked himself as he exited his car.

Vik, who lived nearby, never even knew the place existed. It was a small beige building, with a flickering neon sign above the entrance. There was only enough space for five cars to park in front, so four were vacant. It looked nothing like a palace. He didn’t know how the stranger knew he needed money and he didn’t know why he would tell him a Chinese restaurant could help him, but reluctantly, he walked in anyway.

“Hello,” the waiter said as he entered. “Table for one?”

Vik nodded and followed the young woman to an empty table.

“I’ll bring the menu.”

What the hell am I doing here? Vik thought, shaking his head. I’ll just have my dinner here and get out.

After a while, the lady came back with a menu, but Vik already knew what he wanted.

“I’ll just have a portion of egg fried rice and a portion of sweet and sour chicken,” he said, before she could even put the menu down.

She nodded, but as she turned around, Vik blurted out something.

“And Whe Whe,” he said.

She paused for a moment, but then walked away, without turning around to look at him.

Well that was a waste of time, Vik thought.

Almost twenty minutes passed before the woman came back. Nobody else entered the restaurant during that time and all Vik could do, as he sat alone in a corner next to a bamboo plant, was scroll through social media. He saw some of his old classmates who were either married, on extravagant vacations or were just happy with their lives. It made him sick. The guzheng music and aroma of Sichuan pepper was quite nice though.

“Here you go,” the beautiful girl said as she came back with the food. “Fried rice. Sweet and sour chicken… and Whe Whe.”

She quickly walked away, leaving Vik to make sense of what was in front of him. Apart from the appetizing food, there was a laminated sheet with ten numbers on it.

One – Centipede

Two – Belly

Three – Cow

Four – Dead Man

Five – Queen

Six – Carriage

Seven – Money

Eight – Tiger

Nine – Blind Man

Ten – Opium

Vik had heard of Whe Whe from his father a long time ago. It was a simple game that many older people played, as it originated with the early Chinese settlers in Trinidad. You bet on a number and the following week, if it was drawn from the pot, you won. Each number meant something and people believed that the universe showed them the winning number, through dreams or events in real life. The older generation were more superstitious.

“If you had no dream, that meant you were blind in the dream,” his father said. “So nine would be the number to play. If your belly is hurting you, bet on two.”

Vik looked at the list and shook his head. He was expecting some grand casino like place, where the game would be played by hundreds. The pot of numbers on the counter where the girl stood even looked cheap.

What kind of money can I make here? he thought.

He ate his food, paid and walked out of the restaurant without playing the game, but then he remembered what the stranger told him.

“Just take a walk in the back of the building before you place your bet.”

Hesitantly, he walked around the building, looking around to make sure nobody saw him.

What am I doing?

He reached the garbage bin, which was overflowing with foul smelling bags, but near the ground, light coming from a small window caught his eye. He could see the basement. Vik stepped closer, bent down and peered in. It was an empty room, but on the floor, was a chess piece.

“A Queen,” Vik said.

He got up and walked to the front again.

What do I have to lose?

He walked in, met the young girl again and gave her twenty dollars.

“Twenty on number five please.”

The girl nodded, took his information, went to the back and came back with his receipt.

A week had passed and Vik, who was back to his routine life, forgot all about his bet, until he got a strange notification on his phone. It was a message with a picture of a white ping pong ball attached. The ball had the number five written with a black marker on it.

“Congratulations! You have won two hundred dollars. Collect your winnings at The Golden Palace in Debe at your earliest convenience.”

Vik never won many bets, so he was quite surprised. That same day, on his way home, he stopped at the restaurant. He went straight to the back, cautiously, and he peered through the window again. This time, he saw two hundred dollars on the floor.

Is that mine?

When he went into the restaurant, he met the same beautiful Chinese girl. Instead of taking his winnings, he invested in a new bet.

“Two hundred dollars on seven please.”

A week passed and surprisingly, Vik won again. He rushed back to the restaurant that same evening, went to the back and looked through the window. He gasped, fell over and almost shat his pants. He ran into the restaurant and with his heart beating a mile a minute, he made a new bet.

“Two thousand on eight please.”

The young woman just smiled and nodded.

Another week passed and he was twenty thousand dollars richer. At the window, he saw a record player. The song playing was Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

“Two thousand on nine. I'll cash out the remainder.”

The girl's expression soured and she unwillingly gave him a cheque.

It was a rush. Vik felt exhilarated. He never felt so alive. His life, which felt so dull before, felt refreshing.

A few more weeks passed and Vik, who never spent any of his winnings, continued playing Whe Whe and built up his savings. He thought he was about to live the life he always dreamed of.

“One thousand on two.”

“Five thousand on six.”

“One hundred thousand on…”

Vik was pale.

“On what Sir?”

The old man with the bushy moustache was in the room this time. Vik saw him through the window.

What the hell? he thought. Is this some sick joke?

The old man sat in a chair. His eyes were closed and his head leaned to one side. He wore a red shirt, which was the same white shirt Vik saw him wearing when they first met. His throat was slit.

Am I seeing things?

“Hey,” Vik called out. “Hey!”

The man didn’t answer or move an inch. Just then, Vik heard footsteps approaching. He stood up and hauled his ass to the front of the building.

Oh God!

He paced around and thought about getting in his car and driving home.

I’ve made enough money, right? he asked himself.

“This is crazy!” he said.

“One hundred thousand on… four please,” he finally blurted out.

He gave the young woman a cheque, for all the money he had in his account.

He’s dead already, he thought. What else can I do?

Vik tried to forget what he saw and went back to living his routine life. Go to work. Go home. Sleep. Repeat.

I just have to get through this week, he thought.

He thought about going to the police, but he convinced himself it was too late.

It’s too late. I don’t even know the man’s name.

Monday passed. Tuesday passed. Wednesday...

“No new messages,” his phone read.

At the end of another long and stressful day at work, Vik drove his old blue sedan all the way back to South Trinidad. He stopped at The Golden Palace restaurant. The doors were locked and the sign was gone.

“No new messages.”