Low men in yellow coats by Stephen King

He kept remembering her eyes up there. How big and worried they had been. And he had kissed her, just like that. Bingo.

Bobby and Sully toted most of the beachbags. ‘Good mules! Giddyap!’ Rionda cried, laughing, as they mounted the steps between the beach and the boardwalk. She was lobster red under the cold-cream she had smeared over her face and shoulders, and she moaned to Anita Gerber that she wouldn’t sleep a wink that night, that if the sunburn didn’t keep her awake, the midway food would.

‘Well, you didn’t have to eat four wieners and two doughboys,’ Mrs Gerber said, sounding more irritated than Bobby had ever heard her — she was tired, he reckoned. He felt a little dazed by the sun himself. His back prickled with sunburn and he had sand in his socks. The beachbags with which he was festooned swung and bounced against each other.

‘But amusement park food’s so gooood,’ Rionda protested in a sad voice. Bobby laughed.

He couldn’t help it.

They walked slowly along the midway toward the dirt parking lot, paying no attention to the rides now. The barkers looked at them, then looked past them for fresh blood. Folks loaded down and trudging back to the parking lot were, by and large, lost causes.

At the very end of the midway, on the left, was a skinny man wearing baggy blue Bermuda shorts, a strap-style undershirt, and a bowler hat. The bowler was old and faded, but cocked at a rakish angle. Also, there was a plastic sunflower stuck in the brim. He was a funny guy, and the girls finally got their chance to put their hands over their mouths and giggle.

He looked at them with the air of a man who has been giggled at by experts and smiled back. This made Carol and her friends giggle harder. The man in the bowler hat, still smiling, spread his hands above the makeshift table behind which he was standing — a slab of fiberboard on two bright orange sawhorses. On the fiberboard were three redbacked Bicycle cards. He turned them over with quick, graceful gestures. His fingers were long and perfectly white, Bobby saw — not a bit of sun-color on them.

The card in the middle was the queen of hearts. The man in the bowler picked it up, showed it to them, walked it dextrously back and forth between his fingers. ‘Find the lady in red, cherchez la femme rouge, that’s what it’s all about and all you have to do,’ he said. ‘It’s easy as can beezy, easy-Japaneezy, easy as knitting kitten-britches.’ He beckoned Yvonne Loving. ‘Come on over here, dollface, and show em how it’s done.’

Yvonne, still giggling and blushing to the roots of her black hair, shrank back against Rionda and murmured that she had no more money for games, it was all spent.

‘Not a problem,’ the man in the bowler hat said. ‘It’s just a demonstration, dollface — I want your mom and her pretty friend to see how easy it is.’

‘Neither one’s my mom,’ Yvonne said, but she stepped forward.

‘We really ought to get going if we’re going to beat the traffic, Ewie,’ Mrs Gerber said.

‘No, wait a minute, this is fun,’ Rionda said. ‘It’s three-card monte. Looks easy, just like he says, but if you’re not careful you start chasing and go home dead broke.’

The man in the bowler gave her a reproachful look, then a broad and engaging grin. It was the grin of a low man, Bobby thought suddenly. Not one of those Ted was afraid of, but a low man, just the same.

‘It’s obvious to me,’ said the man in the bowler, ‘that at some point in your past you have been the victim of a scoundrel. Although how anyone could be cruel enough to mistreat such a beautiful classy dame is beyond my ability to comprehend.’

The beautiful classy dame — five-five or so, two hundred pounds or so, shoulders and face slathered with Pond’s — laughed happily. ‘Stow the guff and show the child how it works.

And are you really telling me this is legal?’

The man behind the table tossed his head back and also laughed. ‘At the ends of the midway everything’s legal until they catch you and throw you out . . . as I think you probably know. Now . . . what’s your name, dollface?’