Page 295 - The Grotesque Children's Book

the experienced money went into the “Tozzo to lose” hat at the one-for-three ratio which Carola
had predicted, with Tozzo the heavy favorite to lose, even when battling an old man.

The match began. Camello's strategy was similar to that which had proven so successful
for Piccino: listen for the bellowing, as it came round the circle, duck out of the way, then either
strike out immediately, or run quietly just behind Tozzo's heels a full revolution and strike him.
Well, Camello proved a little more susceptible to the game's dizziness than Tozzo's previous
opponent, so it wasn't long before both he and Tozzo were staggering around the circle, to the
great amusement of the crowd. They loved their beloved Birch Bough Blind! Camello the tailor
proved a little less adept than Piccino at ducking and darting out of the way, and received a few
surprise blows. However, the bellowing sounds and heaving, grunting and cursing gave away
Tozzo's whereabouts at every revolution. So the game concluded at “Nine points Camello, three
points Tozzo!” The middleman distributed the money, including all of Santi's ten soldi and
Aurelio's five.

Santi realized the gravity of his actions. That was money he needed for his father's
Astragalus and for food and heat. With Allori not paying this month, Santi was, for all intents
and purposes, ruined. His only hope now lay in being able to finish the ceilings, up to Bay 33 by
the end of the month, but he knew he didn't have the strength left. He couldn't do it. He didn't
know what to do. Aurelio scribbled a dry lilac twig breaking out of the thumb of an open hand
which meant “I'm so sorry, old friend. We shouldn't have been betting money we didn't have.
More to the point, we shouldn't have been betting when we were drunk!” The two painters hung
their heads and clung to each other.

Tozzo's next challenger stepped into the playing circle and dropped his hat: a tall, well-
endowed youthful athlete of a man named Tavola, a lumberer by trade, who split logs into
firewood for the local lumberyard. He could not be more fit. Carola glanced over at Tozzo and
saw him draining the last of his tankard, staggering. Tozzo hasn't a chance. All the money in the
tavern was dropped into the “Tozzo to lose” hat. Not a soldi went into the “Tozzo to win” hat.

Carola quickly assessed the situation: without any money in the “Tozzo to win” hat, there
would be no third round. But there wasn't anyone in the tavern to bet on Tozzo except foolish
Santi and Aurelio, and they were out of money.

One more round, thought Carola. If I can just get to the fourth round, Tozzo's
counterbalancing dizziness will kick in, and he'll pull off a surprise victory. Just five or ten more
minutes,. Can I stall everyone that long?

But already there were grumblings of disappointment. No money in the “Tozzo to win”
hat, none at all, despite all the badgering and pressure they were putting on each other for
someone, anyone, to put up any money, anything! There must be twenty soldi in the hat right
now, thought Carola. A single soldi would get me all twenty of those soldi. -- except...Tozzo
won't win this round; he'll win in the next. Think this through, Carola, she thought to herself.
They wouldn’t play the round for a single soldi; how would they split that among the dozen of
them who bet? No, I'll need to make it seem worth their while, lose it this round, and then, oh

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