Las Vegas
“Which Casino do you want to hit next?” Beck asked as they found their way back to the main thoroughfare. Jack shrugged, pleasantly tipsy and enjoying the atmosphere. The lights, the music, the action. He felt like dancing, like months of excess stress were being scraped away.
“We already hit Caesar’s and Paris. How about we check out the Mandalay this time?”
“I was thinking Excalibur.”
“Seriously? It’s disgusting.”
“I’ve never been there.”
“I went four years ago with my uncle. It’s dingy,” Jack said. “But we can go there if you want.”
“Well, how about the MGM then?”
“Sure, that one is good.”
They headed outside to the Jeep. Their first stop had been to pick up new clothes, something to help them blend into the Vegas landscape. Beck was wearing jeans, a long sleeve T-shirt, and sunglasses, trying to cover as much of his albino skin as possible.
Jack elected for a polo shirt and dress pants, tucking his wallet into the front pocket.
Jack climbed into the driver side of the Jeep and rolled down the window. It was a hot and muggy afternoon, and he was already starting to sweat. Jack noticed something in Beck’s hand as the albino buckled himself in and burst out laughing.
“Condoms?”
“You know,” Beck said, blushing, “just in case.”
“Are there a lot of girls there interested in a shiny guy?”
“Oh, screw you,” Beck said, blushing deeper. “And I got extra, in case you need some. But you’ll have to settle for Regular. They didn’t have any extra small.”
Jack stopped laughing. “No way, man. That’s one line I won’t cross. I’m married.”
“Okay, okay. I was just throwing it out there. Tonight, I’m getting laid.”
They headed into the MGM and split up. Jack found himself at a Black Jack table some time later, debating whether a queen-six pair was worth hitting.
Two people already busted, and he tried to think back to exactly which cards were played in the game so far. He liked to think he was good at math and probability, but he knew that he wasn’t smart enough to exploit a casino.
Sixty percent chance he would bust? Thirty? How many cards were even in the dealer’s deck at this point? Jack couldn’t even think of a good number to make up as the probability, let alone do the real math in his head. Instead, he decided to trust his intuition and called for a hit.
Bust.
He sighed, stood up from the table, and went hunting for Beck. The casino was huge with a vaulted ceiling. The buzz and whistle of machines surrounded him. He had a Samuel Adams that was starting to feel warm, so he quickly drained it and tossed the bottle into a trash can.
It had been four hours, he was down three-hundred fifty dollars and drunk enough that he didn’t care. He needed to find Beck because if there was anyone who would understand the probabilities of card games, it would be his math- wizard friend. Jack spotted him near a slot machine and maneuvered through the crowd.
“I’m up six hundred,” Beck said when he noticed Jack. “Enough for a decent hooker.”
“Or six crappy ones,” Jack offered. He watched Beck for a minute. “I’m down.”
“How much?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jack replied. “Let’s just say you’re loaning me money for dinner.”
“Four hours left before we need to head back. I’m thinking we can get a lobster dinner sometime soon, then hit a few more casinos,” Beck said. He reached to the side and grabbed a martini.
“Is that an Apple-tini?” Jack asked as Beck took a sip.
“Watermelon.”
“Seriously?”
“Don’t judge me,” Beck said, then drank the rest of the martini and set the glass aside.
“And you wonder why you can’t get laid.”
Beck ignored him. “Two more spins and we can go get food.”
“I want to try one more hand of Black Jack; I’m feeling lucky. Speaking of which, do you know how to cheat at Black Jack?”
“It isn’t cheating. Just math.”
“So you know?”
“It’s not that hard, just takes time and patience. Do you have a memory palace?”
“A what?”
“A memory palace. Something you remember really well that you can associate to the cards? For me, it’s my home. I imagine walking into the foyer, and then I see the coatrack and think of the Jack of Hearts and then the cabinet where my mom stored her knitting supplies and think of the queen of diamonds. As I move through the house, I place other cards alongside things I remember so I know what cards have already been used.”
Jack was silent for a long moment, wobbling slightly in his drunken daze. “What’s a foyer?”
Beck sighed. “Never mind.”
“Uh huh. I’d rather just get dealt a Black Jack. That sounds easier.”
“The likelihood of being dealt a Black Jack is five percent, whilst the likelihood of being dealt a hand that is hard standing is thirty percent. That means the likelihood of being dealt a hand where you have to make a decision is around forty percent. The trick is to wait until the chances skew in your favor and then put your money down.”
“Did they teach you that when you joined the military? I must have been stuck in the shitty boot camp,” Jack said. He felt like giggling. He didn’t though.
“I learned it in video games.”
Jack chuckled and took a sip of his drink, leaning against the slot machine. “You done yet? I’m starving.”
“I thought you wanted to play another hand of Black Jack?”
Jack shook his head. “I can’t afford to lose any more money.”
“All right, I’m going to take a piss, then we’ll hit the restaurant.”
Beck stumbled out of his chair and weaved his way through the crowd to the restroom. Jack watched him and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Drunken bastard,” he mumbled.
“Who?” a voice asked behind him. Jack almost fell down he was so caught off guard. He stumbled into the machine and banged his shoulder before catching his balance.
“Sorry, ow,” he said, rubbing his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” a young woman said, stepping back with an amused smile on her face. She was gorgeous, just over five feet tall with brunette hair.
“I…uh…do I know you?” Jack asked.
She shook her head. “No, but you were leaning on the slot machine I was hoping to use. Your friend just won a few hundred dollars on that machine, and in my experience its best to borrow someone else’s good luck when I run out of my own. Maybe I can steal some of his.”
Embarrassed, Jack stumbled aside so she would have access to the machine. She smiled at him and sat down, slipping a few dollars into the machine and pulling the lever. Jack decided to walk away and wait for Beck near the bar, then he could flag him down when he came out of the restroom and they could go eat.
Except, even after making the decision, he didn’t move. Jack watched her play the slots, paying more attention to her than the machine, as she lost a few pulls. He wanted to walk away, to push her out of his memory, but he couldn’t.
She was angular and beautiful, and he was drunk which made her look like a super model. It was more than four months since he’d seen his wife in person, and he suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about her and how much he missed her.
“Superstition never pans out,” the girl said, punching the machine and shrugging at Jack. “Forgive me for being rude. I was just hoping that one of these days I would actually win money here.”
“No apology necessary. I’m just waiting for my friend,” Jack replied. “I’m Jack.”
“Helen,” she said. “From Jersey. My girlfriends brought me here for my birthday. I’m in a sorority. Alpha Phi Omega!” She threw her hands up and laughed. “Are you from around here?”
“Yes,” he said. “Actually no. I’m sort of from this area…for now…but I live in Arizona and…never mind, it’s complicated. For the sake of argument, I’ll say yes, I live near Vegas.”
“Well, Jack from Las Vegas,” Helen said sweetly, “would you be so kind as to pull this lever for me after I put a dollar in? Maybe I can borrow some of your luck.”
“I’ve been losing all day, so I don’t think that’s a good plan,” he said, stepping forward to pull the lever. She slipped a dollar into the machine.
They won, and the machine went wild with pinging noises and music. She cheered and slipped another dollar in, gesturing for him to work the lever again. He won again, though a smaller amount, and sat down next to her to get a better angle on the machine.
“Looks like you are lucky.”
“Do I get a part of the spoils?” he asked. She smiled and leaned close, whispering into his ear, “No way, but I’ll think of a consolation prize.”
2
“Sorry, I uh…shouldn’t...can’t…uh…won’t,” Jack said, shaking his head. He cleared his throat. “I’m married.”
“Oh,” Helen said, pouting. “That’s too bad.”
“I love my wife,” he said.
“She’s a lucky woman,” Helen replied, frowning.
They sat there awkwardly and then Jack climbed out of the chair. “So uh…I’m just going to go find my friend.”
“Hang on just one more second,” Helen said, pulling out her phone. She started tapping on it, not looking at Jack. “You know, it’s actually kind of endearing. Victor thought you would come with me without question.”
“Uh…what…?” Jack asked, feeling his body tense up.
“He said if I wore the same perfume your wife wears and look cute you would do anything I asked. I thought maybe you would be a good guy and not cheat on your wife, so I came with a backup plan.”
Jack blinked and took a step back.
“What is going on?”
“We already have Beck. I spiked his drink, so when he got to the bathroom they had no trouble leading him upstairs. That should be enough to convince you I’m serious, but just in case…”
She pulled a little dart gun out of her purse and shot Jack with it. Then she slipped it back in her purse. Jack jerked the dart out of his chest, instantly feeling woozy.
“What…what shoot…shot with me?” he mumbled, mind unable to focus on anything.
“A very mild sedative, which when mixed with all the alcohol you consumed is going to make you very sleepy.”
He yawned. “Why did that you?”
Jack staggered into the machine. Several people turned to look, and a man in a tuxedo came over to see what was wrong.
“My husband has had a little too much to drink,” she said, smiling at the man.
“Shot…” Jack tried to explain. “Shots, she shot…”
The man smiled understandingly at Jack. “Would you like help to get him upstairs?”
“Oh, would you?” she asked. “That would be most kind. I think it would be best that he sleep this off.”
“Of course,” the man said, grabbing Jack under the arm. They started toward the elevator.
“I…” Jack said helplessly to the man as they rode upstairs. “Shot.”
“Yes,” the man agreed. “I love their shots as well.”
“No, no,” Jack argued. “She…I…shot…”
The elevator dinged at the floor, and Jack felt himself dragged along. He was panicky but too tired to really feel the effects. All he wanted to do was go to sleep.
They were in front of a door. The woman slid it open. “Thank you so much.”
“Do you need any help?” the man asked.
“I think I can get it from here,” she said, grabbing Jack under the arm. “There you are, honey.”
She got him in the room and closed the door. She dragged him over to the bed and dropped him face first into the sheets.
“I’ve got him,” she added.
And then Jack passed out.
