Posts Tagged ‘ Nine ’

Nine Ways (Revised AGAIN) Chapter 4

January 21, 2011
By

After thinking I knew my way to the lunch room, turning down an unknown hallway, getting lost and then having to ask someone for directions to the cafeteria, I finally arrived at my destination. It was so much different than the lunchroom in Powell. All of the tables were small and circular, and every clique was sizably smaller than what I was used to. The thought about where to sit was daunting. I looked around and I could hardly pick out more than twenty faces, and I couldn’t imagine going up to any of them and asking them to sit with them.

Begrudgingly, I scooted my way up to the lunch line to purchase world famous Bosco sticks. I cringed as I stood in the lunch line. All around me, kids were talking about topics I may or may not have been interested in. My heart felt a pang of nostalgia as I saw a group of boys laughing and talking animatedly. They were the picture perfect replica of Dalia, Riya, Lacey and I just a few short weeks ago.

Despite what anyone has ever said, when you live miles away from your friends, your relationship can never be the same. Emailing, phone calls, and letters don’t replace the true wonders of spending actual time in space with your friends. As I waited for the group of boys to finish paying, I glanced around the lunch room. I wondered if I would ever be able to fit into one of the cliques here as well as I had in Ohio. My eyes kept searching and searching, but no matter how far they swept, I didn’t see one person who I could imagine myself getting close to. Sighing, I picked up two Bosco sticks and a bottle of water and gave the lunch lady a five dollar bill.

As I waited for her to fish through the change compartment and retrieve my designated amount of change to give me, I had one of those empowering thoughts. The kind where, in your head, you tell yourself that you only have one life; one choice, one opportunity at this life. You tell yourself, I’m going to make a difference in this place. I’m from Powell, Ohio, and I’ve been through experiences that these people could benefit from. I have view points and morals that could help educate these people. Where I’m from, the student body is diverse. Here, I have only come across one African American. I have to make a friend so that I can show them what Ohioans are like.

My thoughts were interrupted by the lunch lady sticking her gloved hand right out in front of my face and jingling the change in the palm of her hand.
“Here you are, dear,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

She smiled at me, and I walked away from the lunch line, looking around for potential friends. I started for the first table I saw. I didn’t notice the crowd I was about to join arms with at first, but after I saw myself face to face with several boys laughing obnoxiously with their shoulders hunched and their heads face down, I back-traced. There was no way I would be able to spend an entire half an hour listening to boys talk about nothing but facts and insults which would have a strong school-base to them. Not to mention the fact that I would feel dumb for not knowing any of the underlying facts. I didn’t know these particular boys, but I did know their type. Somethings never change no matter where you go, and school cliques are one of those things.

“Jeanah,” I heard someone call. I turned my head and saw Rob, the nice boy who walked me to history class. “Do you want to sit with us?” He motioned towards a table with two other boys, and three girls at it.
“Yeah,” I said smiling. “Thank-you.”
“No problem,” he said, smiling amiably back at me.

I sat down in the seat across from Rob, next to one of the girls. When I set my tray down, everyone was staring at me, but not in an obtrusive way. The girl I was sitting next to had this smile on her face that seemed truly genuine. It didn’t seem like she had a reason to smile. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my life who smiles as much as she did.

“Everyone, this is Jeanah. Jeanah, this is everyone.” Rob laughed at his fake introduction. “No, I’m just messin’ with yah. That’s Riley,” he said pointing to the smiliest girl I have ever met. She had brown curly hair and braces on her teeth. “Next to her is Ellie, then Jessie. They’re twins,” he added unnecessarily. They both gave identical shy smiles accompanied by little identical waves. They both had light blond hair, blue eyes, and wild freckles all over their face. I smiled back at them, thinking that they were probably the type of twins who were inseparable. I knew if I had a twin, or even a sibling, I would not be eating lunch with them at school. But, they were adorable, so I’m glad they did. “That is Ryan,” he said, motioning towards a bulky boy with a shaved head and strong muscular arms.

“Sup?” Ryan said in this impossibly low baritone voice that made my throat hurt just thinking about how deep it was. I laughed at him and managed a curt,
“Not much.”
“And finally,” Rob finished. “That’s Justin.” Justin looked equally as shy as the twins did, but he had this quality about him that made me think that inside, he was just as loud as the rest of us.

I was surprised at how blatantly nice they all were to me. There was that small town charm radiating out of these crazy people again. Right when I sat down, I was included in their conversation as easy as it was for me to pull my purple sweatshirt on that morning.
“We thought we’d save you from a terrible fate,” Riley said sarcastically, glancing at the table of boys who I almost dined with. Even sarcastically, Riley had this gorgeous smile.

“And I am eternally greatful,” I said.
“Yeah. They’re nice boys, don’t get me wrong,” one of the twins said. I didn’t keep track of who was who, and quite frankly I didn’t think it mattered. “It’s just… you want to get into a better crowd, Jeanah.” I loved the way she said my name at the end. It tied the sentence together, and made it feel that much more personal.

We took short eating intermittence breaks in between our conversation, but when the conversation was going, I learned so much. So far, I learned that Ryan played Football; one of the twins, Ellie, I thought, did ballet while the other one, Jessie, took tap; Rob always had straight A’s; Justin had no life outside of video games and finally, Riley had been to forty six out of the fifty states in the USA. The exceptions being Alaska, Hawaii, Maine and Rhode Island. But most importantly, I learned that even nice people can fall into the majority trap.

“So wait,” Ryan said in his reverberatingly loud tenor voice. “I just don’t understand how you,” he spat, “could have gotten expelled. Not that you’re not cool enough to be, it’s just you’re not rebellious enough.” Everyone else around the table joined in on our conversation.

“You would be surprised at how rebellious I am,” I said sarcastically but with a tone that suggested I was being totally serious.
“No,” Rob said skeptically. “What’d you do? You gotta tell us.”
“Let’s just say,” I said with a big toothy grin. “It was totally unexpected.” The people at my table gasped.

“I can’t believe it was so bad that you had to move over two thousand miles away!”
I smiled to myself. There was nothing wrong with making yourself seem a little more interesting to those who don’t know you. After all, seldom do you ever get chances to be whoever you want to be in a new place.

After the bell rang, I stood up, said goodbye to my new lunch buddies who openly invited me to sit with them every day now. Before leaving the tiny lunch room, I looked back at the table where I almost sat, and I saw him. My neighbor. Blending in with the boys I almost befriended.*

Nine Ways (Revised AGAIN) Chapter 4

September 7, 2010
By

After thinking I knew my way to the lunch room, turning down an unknown hallway, getting lost and then having to ask someone for directions to the cafeteria, I finally arrived at my destination. It was so much different than the lunchroom in Powell. All of the tables were small and circular, and every clique was sizably smaller than what I was used to. The thought about where to sit was daunting. I looked around and I could hardly pick out more than twenty faces, and I couldn’t imagine going up to any of them and asking them to sit with them.

Begrudgingly, I scooted my way up to the lunch line to purchase world famous Bosco sticks. I cringed as I stood in the lunch line. All around me, kids were talking about topics I may or may not have been interested in. My heart felt a pang of nostalgia as I saw a group of boys laughing and talking animatedly. They were the picture perfect replica of Dalia, Riya, Lacey and I just a few short weeks ago.

Despite what anyone has ever said, when you live miles away from your friends, your relationship can never be the same. Emailing, phone calls, and letters don’t replace the true wonders of spending actual time in space with your friends. As I waited for the group of boys to finish paying, I glanced around the lunch room. I wondered if I would ever be able to fit into one of the cliques here as well as I had in Ohio. My eyes kept searching and searching, but no matter how far they swept, I didn’t see one person who I could imagine myself getting close to. Sighing, I picked up two Bosco sticks and a bottle of water and gave the lunch lady a five dollar bill.

As I waited for her to fish through the change compartment and retrieve my designated amount of change to give me, I had one of those empowering thoughts. The kind where, in your head, you tell yourself that you only have one life; one choice, one opportunity at this life. You tell yourself, I’m going to make a difference in this place. I’m from Powell, Ohio, and I’ve been through experiences that these people could benefit from. I have view points and morals that could help educate these people. Where I’m from, the student body is diverse. Here, I have only come across one African American. I have to make a friend so that I can show them what Ohioans are like.

My thoughts were interrupted by the lunch lady sticking her gloved hand right out in front of my face and jingling the change in the palm of her hand.
“Here you are, dear,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

She smiled at me, and I walked away from the lunch line, looking around for potential friends. I started for the first table I saw. I didn’t notice the crowd I was about to join arms with at first, but after I saw myself face to face with several boys laughing obnoxiously with their shoulders hunched and their heads face down, I back-traced. There was no way I would be able to spend an entire half an hour listening to boys talk about nothing but facts and insults which would have a strong school-base to them. Not to mention the fact that I would feel dumb for not knowing any of the underlying facts. I didn’t know these particular boys, but I did know their type. Somethings never change no matter where you go, and school cliques are one of those things.

“Jeanah,” I heard someone call. I turned my head and saw Rob, the nice boy who walked me to history class. “Do you want to sit with us?” He motioned towards a table with two other boys, and three girls at it.
“Yeah,” I said smiling. “Thank-you.”
“No problem,” he said, smiling amiably back at me.

I sat down in the seat across from Rob, next to one of the girls. When I set my tray down, everyone was staring at me, but not in an obtrusive way. The girl I was sitting next to had this smile on her face that seemed truly genuine. It didn’t seem like she had a reason to smile. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my life who smiles as much as she did.

“Everyone, this is Jeanah. Jeanah, this is everyone.” Rob laughed at his fake introduction. “No, I’m just messin’ with yah. That’s Riley,” he said pointing to the smiliest girl I have ever met. She had brown curly hair and braces on her teeth. “Next to her is Ellie, then Jessie. They’re twins,” he added unnecessarily. They both gave identical shy smiles accompanied by little identical waves. They both had light blond hair, blue eyes, and wild freckles all over their face. I smiled back at them, thinking that they were probably the type of twins who were inseparable. I knew if I had a twin, or even a sibling, I would not be eating lunch with them at school. But, they were adorable, so I’m glad they did. “That is Ryan,” he said, motioning towards a bulky boy with a shaved head and strong muscular arms.

“Sup?” Ryan said in this impossibly low baritone voice that made my throat hurt just thinking about how deep it was. I laughed at him and managed a curt,
“Not much.”
“And finally,” Rob finished. “That’s Justin.” Justin looked equally as shy as the twins did, but he had this quality about him that made me think that inside, he was just as loud as the rest of us.

I was surprised at how blatantly nice they all were to me. There was that small town charm radiating out of these crazy people again. Right when I sat down, I was included in their conversation as easy as it was for me to pull my purple sweatshirt on that morning.
“We thought we’d save you from a terrible fate,” Riley said sarcastically, glancing at the table of boys who I almost dined with. Even sarcastically, Riley had this gorgeous smile.

“And I am eternally greatful,” I said.
“Yeah. They’re nice boys, don’t get me wrong,” one of the twins said. I didn’t keep track of who was who, and quite frankly I didn’t think it mattered. “It’s just… you want to get into a better crowd, Jeanah.” I loved the way she said my name at the end. It tied the sentence together, and made it feel that much more personal.

We took short eating intermittence breaks in between our conversation, but when the conversation was going, I learned so much. So far, I learned that Ryan played Football; one of the twins, Ellie, I thought, did ballet while the other one, Jessie, took tap; Rob always had straight A’s; Justin had no life outside of video games and finally, Riley had been to forty six out of the fifty states in the USA. The exceptions being Alaska, Hawaii, Maine and Rhode Island. But most importantly, I learned that even nice people can fall into the majority trap.

“So wait,” Ryan said in his reverberatingly loud tenor voice. “I just don’t understand how you,” he spat, “could have gotten expelled. Not that you’re not cool enough to be, it’s just you’re not rebellious enough.” Everyone else around the table joined in on our conversation.

“You would be surprised at how rebellious I am,” I said sarcastically but with a tone that suggested I was being totally serious.
“No,” Rob said skeptically. “What’d you do? You gotta tell us.”
“Let’s just say,” I said with a big toothy grin. “It was totally unexpected.” The people at my table gasped.

“I can’t believe it was so bad that you had to move over two thousand miles away!”
I smiled to myself. There was nothing wrong with making yourself seem a little more interesting to those who don’t know you. After all, seldom do you ever get chances to be whoever you want to be in a new place.

After the bell rang, I stood up, said goodbye to my new lunch buddies who openly invited me to sit with them every day now. Before leaving the tiny lunch room, I looked back at the table where I almost sat, and I saw him. My neighbor. Blending in with the boys I almost befriended.*

Nine Ways (Revised AGAIN) Chapter 4

August 20, 2010
By

After thinking I knew my way to the lunch room, turning down an unknown hallway, getting lost and then having to ask someone for directions to the cafeteria, I finally arrived at my destination. It was so much different than the lunchroom in Powell. All of the tables were small and circular, and every clique was sizably smaller than what I was used to. The thought about where to sit was daunting. I looked around and I could hardly pick out more than twenty faces, and I couldn’t imagine going up to any of them and asking them to sit with them.

Begrudgingly, I scooted my way up to the lunch line to purchase world famous Bosco sticks. I cringed as I stood in the lunch line. All around me, kids were talking about topics I may or may not have been interested in. My heart felt a pang of nostalgia as I saw a group of boys laughing and talking animatedly. They were the picture perfect replica of Dalia, Riya, Lacey and I just a few short weeks ago.

Despite what anyone has ever said, when you live miles away from your friends, your relationship can never be the same. Emailing, phone calls, and letters don’t replace the true wonders of spending actual time in space with your friends. As I waited for the group of boys to finish paying, I glanced around the lunch room. I wondered if I would ever be able to fit into one of the cliques here as well as I had in Ohio. My eyes kept searching and searching, but no matter how far they swept, I didn’t see one person who I could imagine myself getting close to. Sighing, I picked up two Bosco sticks and a bottle of water and gave the lunch lady a five dollar bill.

As I waited for her to fish through the change compartment and retrieve my designated amount of change to give me, I had one of those empowering thoughts. The kind where, in your head, you tell yourself that you only have one life; one choice, one opportunity at this life. You tell yourself, I’m going to make a difference in this place. I’m from Powell, Ohio, and I’ve been through experiences that these people could benefit from. I have view points and morals that could help educate these people. Where I’m from, the student body is diverse. Here, I have only come across one African American. I have to make a friend so that I can show them what Ohioans are like.

My thoughts were interrupted by the lunch lady sticking her gloved hand right out in front of my face and jingling the change in the palm of her hand.
“Here you are, dear,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

She smiled at me, and I walked away from the lunch line, looking around for potential friends. I started for the first table I saw. I didn’t notice the crowd I was about to join arms with at first, but after I saw myself face to face with several boys laughing obnoxiously with their shoulders hunched and their heads face down, I back-traced. There was no way I would be able to spend an entire half an hour listening to boys talk about nothing but facts and insults which would have a strong school-base to them. Not to mention the fact that I would feel dumb for not knowing any of the underlying facts. I didn’t know these particular boys, but I did know their type. Somethings never change no matter where you go, and school cliques are one of those things.

“Jeanah,” I heard someone call. I turned my head and saw Rob, the nice boy who walked me to history class. “Do you want to sit with us?” He motioned towards a table with two other boys, and three girls at it.
“Yeah,” I said smiling. “Thank-you.”
“No problem,” he said, smiling amiably back at me.

I sat down in the seat across from Rob, next to one of the girls. When I set my tray down, everyone was staring at me, but not in an obtrusive way. The girl I was sitting next to had this smile on her face that seemed truly genuine. It didn’t seem like she had a reason to smile. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my life who smiles as much as she did.

“Everyone, this is Jeanah. Jeanah, this is everyone.” Rob laughed at his fake introduction. “No, I’m just messin’ with yah. That’s Riley,” he said pointing to the smiliest girl I have ever met. She had brown curly hair and braces on her teeth. “Next to her is Ellie, then Jessie. They’re twins,” he added unnecessarily. They both gave identical shy smiles accompanied by little identical waves. They both had light blond hair, blue eyes, and wild freckles all over their face. I smiled back at them, thinking that they were probably the type of twins who were inseparable. I knew if I had a twin, or even a sibling, I would not be eating lunch with them at school. But, they were adorable, so I’m glad they did. “That is Ryan,” he said, motioning towards a bulky boy with a shaved head and strong muscular arms.

“Sup?” Ryan said in this impossibly low baritone voice that made my throat hurt just thinking about how deep it was. I laughed at him and managed a curt,
“Not much.”
“And finally,” Rob finished. “That’s Justin.” Justin looked equally as shy as the twins did, but he had this quality about him that made me think that inside, he was just as loud as the rest of us.

I was surprised at how blatantly nice they all were to me. There was that small town charm radiating out of these crazy people again. Right when I sat down, I was included in their conversation as easy as it was for me to pull my purple sweatshirt on that morning.
“We thought we’d save you from a terrible fate,” Riley said sarcastically, glancing at the table of boys who I almost dined with. Even sarcastically, Riley had this gorgeous smile.

“And I am eternally greatful,” I said.
“Yeah. They’re nice boys, don’t get me wrong,” one of the twins said. I didn’t keep track of who was who, and quite frankly I didn’t think it mattered. “It’s just… you want to get into a better crowd, Jeanah.” I loved the way she said my name at the end. It tied the sentence together, and made it feel that much more personal.

We took short eating intermittence breaks in between our conversation, but when the conversation was going, I learned so much. So far, I learned that Ryan played Football; one of the twins, Ellie, I thought, did ballet while the other one, Jessie, took tap; Rob always had straight A’s; Justin had no life outside of video games and finally, Riley had been to forty six out of the fifty states in the USA. The exceptions being Alaska, Hawaii, Maine and Rhode Island. But most importantly, I learned that even nice people can fall into the majority trap.

“So wait,” Ryan said in his reverberatingly loud tenor voice. “I just don’t understand how you,” he spat, “could have gotten expelled. Not that you’re not cool enough to be, it’s just you’re not rebellious enough.” Everyone else around the table joined in on our conversation.

“You would be surprised at how rebellious I am,” I said sarcastically but with a tone that suggested I was being totally serious.
“No,” Rob said skeptically. “What’d you do? You gotta tell us.”
“Let’s just say,” I said with a big toothy grin. “It was totally unexpected.” The people at my table gasped.

“I can’t believe it was so bad that you had to move over two thousand miles away!”
I smiled to myself. There was nothing wrong with making yourself seem a little more interesting to those who don’t know you. After all, seldom do you ever get chances to be whoever you want to be in a new place.

After the bell rang, I stood up, said goodbye to my new lunch buddies who openly invited me to sit with them every day now. Before leaving the tiny lunch room, I looked back at the table where I almost sat, and I saw him. My neighbor. Blending in with the boys I almost befriended.*

NUMBER NINE: Penthouse Perversions

May 5, 2010
By

FADE IN:

INT. HOTEL ELEVATOR – NIGHT

The Beatles’ BLACKBIRD (White Album) plays in the foreground.

CLOSE UP of Ruby, flanked by Minnie and Slim. An elevator operator speaks into an intercom.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY ELEVATOR ENCLAVE – NIGHT

Jake watches the elevator monitor rise to the 54th floor – the penthouse suite.

INT. PENTHOUSE SUITE – NIGHT

A man in a stylish suit looks out over the neon Vegas strip. This is GUIDO LAZERRI, mob boss. The doors open and Ruby is escorted in, Minnie and Slim following.

Fade out BLACKBIRD: “You were only waiting for this moment to arrive…”

Fade in HELTER SKELTER: “When I get to the bottom I go back to the top…”

INSERT MONTAGE – HELTER SKELTER

A whirlwind storm, overturned cars and boats, flying objects, naked dancers on a phallic pole, targeted missiles, explosions, charred bodies, Chernobyl, Exxon-Valdez, Bhopal, dead crows, quarantine bubbles and people in chemical suits. Dark images of masked, leathered bodies and faces intermixed with butchered meat and the pummeled faces of pugilists.

Fade out HELTER SKELTER

Fade in WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS

“I don’t know how you were diverted, you were perverted too…”

Despite the name, Guido Lazerri was no cliché. He was not Pacino in Scarface, Brando in The Godfather or Gandolfo in The Sopranos. He more resembled a European businessman with charm, grace and impeccable taste. He was a smooth talker whose powers of persuasion transcended business and pleasure. He was accustomed to getting his way.

As an illegitimate son of a prominent crime family patron, Guido was ideally positioned to advance in the ranks. It was a time of great turmoil when the government, consumed in a war on terror, left criminal enterprise to its own policing. When the wheels of power turned one way, Guido was protected by his bloodline. When they turned the other way, he was shielded by his status as a bastard son.

He was a master strategist, a sound businessman, a smooth operator and a perverted prick. Before the advent of the pharmaceutical solution to the limp dick syndrome, Guido had a problem with his manhood. His Italian wife had a problem with the back of his hand. She never told anyone (and perhaps she considered it her failing as a woman) but when relatives from the old country came to visit, catching a glimpse of her bruises, it was made clear that if he ever laid hand on her again, he would not live to realize his ambitions.

Guido never laid hand on her again.

Thanks to the wonders of modern pharmacology, Guido became the man he always imagined himself to be. He inhabited strip clubs and hired a harem of prostitutes specializing in the dark arts of erotic perversion.

One of his favorite clubs was Shotgun Slim’s and its owner, Antonio Menendez, became like a son to him – the son he could never produce, even with pharmacological assistance. Like nearly everyone who ever set foot in the place, Ruby Daulton was his favorite dancer but, out of respect for Tony, he never pushed it and Tony never offered.

The girls at the club talked about Guido Lazerri: He paid well but it took a week to wash the stench off the skin.

Ruby knew enough about Guido to be petrified but she had a well-earned reputation in the biz as a tough girl and she would not give it up now. She would hold out for any chance, however slim, that she would survive the night.

When the boys escorted her through the door of his penthouse suite, she broke free and struck a pose like at third-rate actress at a third-rate theatre.

“Guido!” she intoned as she strutted across the room and planted a wet kiss and full body embrace on the man who held her life in his slimy hands.

Guido smiled and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. When she recovered, he slapped her again in the opposite direction. Ruby refused to fall. She took a couple of staggered steps back, wiped the blood from her lip and smiled back in defiance.

“So that’s how you want to play, hey, baby?”

Guido loved everything about her: the way she talked, the way she walked, and the way she took a blow and came back for more. He turned to the boys, dumbfounded, and growled, “Get out.”

“Boss,” said Slim, “she’s got five grand in her pocket.”

“That’s my money,” said Ruby.

“Where you’re headed,” said Guido, “you won’t need it.”

Ruby felt the odds slipping as she reached into her pocket, extended her hand and dropped five grand in poker chips to the carpet. The boys scooped them up and headed out, Slim cackling under his labored breath, closing the door behind them.

“You want to know what happened?” asked Ruby.

“I already know what happened.”

“Tony’s little boys decided to give me a birthday party. They had it all planned.”

“I already know…”

“Tony had an appointment. The party was supposed to end with me bending over my own couch, their loads up my…”

“Shut up, bitch!”

“Instead, Tony dropped by.”

“You liked it, baby!”

“Yeah, I liked it when he blasted their fucking heads off but I got out before he turned the gun on me.”

“All women like it!”

“Fuck you, Guido!”

Guido was coming on to his pharmaceutical hard on. He was panting like a hungry dog at the gate of a bitch in heat. He wanted her so bad he was drooling on his tailored suit.

“You ran. Why didn’t you call the police?”

“You know why.”

“You’re a liar. All women are liars.”

Hope was waning. Ruby could no longer imagine a happy ending. She had been in kinky situations before. She could smell them. Some she walked into, others walked into her. Guido was kinkier than a homeless man’s undershirt.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

“What?”

“You want something from me? You want me to make it all go away? You’ve got to give me a reason. You’ve got to give me what I need.”

She was out of options. Time was the only one left. Guido loosened his belt and reached into his pants as Ruby began the slow dance of removing her clothing. She was a singer at heart and her heart was singing the blues as if it was the last song she would ever sing. The guitar inside her soul gently wept.

“Turn around, bitch!”

He did not want to see her face, her eyes, the tears running down her cheeks. He did not want to see her passion, her hatred, her pity or the depth of her humanity. He wanted a plaything, a doll, a warm, bleeding piece of flesh into which he could insert his proof of manhood.

Ruby let the last piece of clothing, her white cotton panties, drop to the floor and tried not to gag as she felt Guido’s breath on her neck, his hand on her ass, his sweaty finger sliding down.

There was a loud crash outside the door. Ruby spun and caught Guido off guard. She kicked as hard as she could, as if the life of her child depended on it, connecting square between his legs, and watched him crumble to the plush white carpet.

Jake came crashing through the door, gun in hand, and delivered a blow to Guido’s head that sent him to another universe where pain and suffering would be his loyal attendants.

Ruby embraced her hero and painted his face with a thousand kisses, tears streaming from her eyes and visions of horror worse than death fading from her mind.

Life was a strange and brutal place and yet there were men like Jake Jones, women like Ruby Dalton, who proved that it was not all bad. There was kindness, courage, dignity and beauty. And there was hope. There was still hope.

Ruby dressed as quickly as she could and the two of them rushed out into the hall, past a cursing Minnie and Slim, hogtied on their slimy bellies, past an unconscious and tied elevator attendant, his body obstructing the elevator door.

They exited on the second floor and made their escape by the stairwell.

It was a warm and glorious Las Vegas night. It was still a magical city, a city where dreams could still come true, a city where hope was alive until the last bet was wagered, and a city where a single silver dollar could reveal the most precious and rare treasure: a royal flush in ruby red hearts.

JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE APPEARED ON DISSIDENT VOICE, THE ALBION MONITOR, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND PEACE-EARTH-JUSTICE. GHOST DANCE IS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM. SEE RANDOM JACK.

Jack’s Random Blog

Number Nine: Orpheus

March 23, 2010
By
Number Nine: OrpheusEnlarge Image

FADE IN:

EXT. SUBURBAN LAS VEGAS – ARIEL VIEW – DAY

Ruby’s baby blue Rambler convertible heading out of town, Ruby driving and Jake in the passenger seat.

The Beatles’ MARTHA, MY DEAR (White Album) plays in the foreground.

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY – DAY

Abandoned vehicles alongside the road. Close up of license plate “7FXY721″ being removed. Close up of license on Baby Blue. Zoom out as Jake and Ruby kick up dust heading back to town.

EXT. LAS VEGAS – DAY

Close up of ATM cash withdrawal.

EXT. LAS VEGAS – ARIEL VIEW – DAY

Ruby drives.

EXT. CHOP SHOP OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN – DAY

Ruby exchanges cash with tattoo man.

EXT. CHOP SHOP – DAY

Ruby, Jake and tattoo man play poker around a spool for chump change.

EXT. CHOP SHOP – SUNSET

Ruby’s Rambler freshly painted ruby red. CLOSE UP of a tear rolling down Ruby’s face.

INT. CASINO – NIGHT

Slow pan reveals Ruby at a poker table with a good stack of chips, Jake at the bar with a beer, and a couple of goons in cheap suits. They are MINNIE and SLIM, employees of Guido Lazerri.

“When you find yourself in the thick of it, help yourself to a bit of what is all around you…”

Ten years ago, a man named Giovanni Minolla, AKA Minnie, as much in reference to the legendary pool player, Minnesota Fats, as to his family surname, was a street vender selling sausages on the streets of Little Italy in Chicago.

Owing to a family recipe, Minnie’s sausages were reputed to be the best in a city that prided itself on old style cuisine. It was his misfortune to be stationed at a street corner just across from Guido’s Pizzeria.

As word spread, Minnie’s sausages began to cut deeply into the pizzeria’s business. Customers took to the habit of buying a sausage on the street and entering the pizzeria for its air conditioning and a cold brew.

The owner of the pizzeria was Guido Lazerri, a made man in a powerful crime syndicate. When Lazerri demanded an explanation for the decline in revenue, his manager, a beer bellied, self-promoting buffoon of a man, stammered and stuttered, afraid to inform the boss that the Lazerri recipe was second rate to that of a street vender. Guido had a reputation for volatility and not without reason.

A short, wiry busboy-dishwasher and general gopher, who went by the name of “Slim” for obvious reasons, whom everyone thought was mentally deficient because of his quiet nature and a spasmodic laugh that seemed to erupt without reason, stepped forward and told the truth.

Everyone in the restaurant froze in a slack-jawed, silent stare until a grim chuckle emerged from Guido’s throat. He fired his manager on the spot and instructed Slim to invite Minnie in for a glass of Chianti and a couple of sausages.

Minnie became the new manager of Guido’s Pizzeria and Slim became his assistant. As Guido moved up the ranks in the organization, he brought Minnie and Slim with him.

They were profoundly grateful. In a business where loyalty is as rare as it is valued, loyalty was their primary asset. Whatever their shortcomings (and they had more than their share, one of which was not being able to recognize them), they could be counted on. They would give up their lives for Guido Lazerri. They would stare down the eyes of a dragon for the honor of their boss. They were groomed from the cradle the perfect lackeys and they were proud of it.

When Guido made the move west to take over a floundering gambling operation in Vegas, Minnie and Slim went with him.

Their current assignment was to track down a murderous, double-crossing bitch by the name of Ruby Daulton and they were hot on her tail. It was not a bad place to be.

Sitting on a barstool, sipping a beer, Jake was a little bored when he heard a sound, a low-pitched humming, that summoned his attention. He looked around at the symphony of flashing lights, clanging and jingling, and tired faces.

Ruby was doing well. She sat down at the poker table less than an hour ago and already she had a sizable stack of multicolored chips, whose meaning escaped him. She was in her element, a radiant jewel in a sea of common stone. He realized that the world would always be divided between life before Ruby and after Ruby. He would have been content to watch her play, to observe her inner joy, for as long as the moment endured but the humming entered his brain and beckoned.

He looked around until he zeroed in on a poker machine across the room that seemed to emit an aura in red neon. He rose from the barstool and let the force of destiny pull him in. It was once in a lifetime and he savored the moment, like a mad scientist on the precipice of a universe-altering discovery.

Standing before a red neon machine, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single silver dollar – the kind you get only at a Vegas casino. He plugged it in, punched the deal button and watched the adventure unfold in cinematic slow motion: Jack of Hearts, King of Hearts, Ace of Hearts, Ten of Hearts, Queen of Hearts.

A ruby red sea of hearts, the colors that turn seasoned gamblers green with envy and make believers of the most devout cynics. It was the ultimate high, an affirmation of all that was good and true, the homecoming of Ulysses, and proof of a divine being.

He smiled and stood in awe at the wonders of random chance. He believed neither in chance nor in the possibility of divine intervention and so his universe was torn asunder. Gravity was deconstructed and the earth beneath his feet became a sea of constant motion. He was no longer Jake Jones. He was someone else watching Jake Jones from a distance.

He was a little surprised that the machine did not spew a fountain of coins at his feet. Instead, a flashing red light and an alarm alerted all that a miracle had occurred on the casino floor. Another lucky winner. Another confirmation of the existence of god. Elvis lives and Jim Morrison would have had it no other way.

He felt a twinge of regret that Ruby was not there to share the moment. This was her turf, her kind of glory, and the dream that centered her existence. He looked in the direction of Ruby’s poker table but his view was blocked, a crowd was pushing in on him, and a casino doll had just arrived speaking too rapidly for comprehension.

She counted out five big ones and chump change as a collective groan emerged from the onlookers. Jake smiled. It did not occur to him that the beauty of the experience could be mediated by the size of the wager. To him it was like a Hopper painting, a good wine, a ball player on hitting streak or the red rock towers of Monument Valley, but to the dispersing crowd it was a betrayal of the gambling gods, a cruel joke, and a testament to the folly of man.

He accepted their condolences and caught a glimpse of Ruby being hustled off the casino floor by a couple of greasy suits. She looked back and he saw panic etched on her tear-streaked face.

Ruby was a good poker player in that she recognized the players and the marks at a glance. A mark could win a hand or two but only the players won in the long haul. It was rare to find a table without at least one player but two could easily share the winnings with a handful of marks.

Ruby was nobody’s fool. She knew that the bogus credit card she got from Sister Woman would not be good for long. She needed hard currency and what better way to get it than at the Orpheus – a casino-hotel with connections to the mobster who placed her in jeopardy.

Having played less than an hour, she had collected over five grand in chips and was looking for a graceful withdrawal. She glanced over to the bar and saw a stranger where Jake should have been. She looked around and her heart stopped, the earth tilted, and the force of gravity pulled her down. The familiar face of a grotesque fat man was staring at her with a crooked smile. An alarm and flashing lights signaled another lucky winner over at the poker machines as Ruby exchanged her chips for larger denominations, left the dealer a generous tip, and calmly rose from the table. If she could only make it to where the mindless swarm was gathering to witness the thrill of victory, maybe she could lose him.

It might have worked but the fat man’s equally disgusting weasel of a partner was immediately at her side, grabbing her waist, pressing a gun to her side and guiding her to where the fat man waited.

“Sweet Ruby!” said the fat man.

“Hiya, boys,” replied Ruby, not bothering to look them in the eyes.

It was not her first encounter with the Minnie and Slim act. She knew them from her drug running days, transferring contraband from LA and San Diego to party town Vegas. There was no point in starting up a conversation. The boys did what they were told. If they had orders to kill her, she was dead. If they had orders to turn her in, she was busted. If the boss wanted a word with her, she was headed up to the penthouse suite. They were moving toward the elevators in the hotel lobby so it looked like the latter.

She looked back once and caught a fleeting glimpse of a Royal Flush in Hearts. She wondered if it was the last hand she would ever see.

JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE APPEARED ON DISSIDENT VOICE, THE ALBION MONITOR, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND PEACE-EARTH-JUSTICE. GHOST DANCE IS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM. contact: jackrandom@earthlink.net.

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