May 6, 1990...Touchdown
"Welcome to Las Vegas," said the flight attendant through the intercom system. My face, as usual, was glued to the window, my curiosity, my sense of wonder, my excitement in perfect harmony. Finally, after all these years I had finally made it. . . Here I am... in the Mojave Desert. As we taxied to our gate, the reflection of the bright sun brought to memory that day, way back in the third grade, in the school library, where I sat with a pile of books -- every book I could find on the Mojave Desert, Mountains, on Reptiles, Lizards, Snakes, Las Vegas,
the West, the Wild West... It wouldn't be long before we made that move. Oh yes, at the tender age of eight I was going to be a true pioneer. I was so excited, so very excited. A new life awaited us and I couldn't wait. Las Vegas, here we come. I was sure as hell that Dad was making the final preparations for our journey out west. I was sure he was taking care of business. I knew that was what fathers did -- they took care of business.
After deplaning, there, the sounds, the music, oh the excitement. Slot machines everywhere, people transfixed to the hypnotic chimes, the clang of coins, the flashing lights. My aversion to gambling now in reprieve. Let me toss a few coins in the dang thing. Yes, oh yes, two coins in, four out. Again! Three coins in, five out. "This is easy money," I attested to the pretty, halter-topped girl next to me. She smiled, deposited her coins in the slot. Nothing. Again, nothing. Her smile dropped, she scurried away.
Well, I thought, maybe I, too, should stop, leave this gateway a winner. Besides, during the next four days I will have plenty of time to drop a few coins here and there. The Imperial Palace, my hotel, would have plenty of slot machines. And, of course the Mirage as well, where my mother's cousin now sat comfortably as a pit boss, so I heard. I hadn't seen him since I was a mere child, during one of his rare visits to Chicago. The last time I saw Cousin Bobby was well after Father had gone, vanquishing my innocent dreams, tearing apart what could have been.
No comments:
Post a Comment