ORC SEPTEMBER 2000 THE WANDERERS #38
HEADLINES
HEADLINE: THE WANDERERS - PART II
SUBHEAD: DOWN AND OUT, UP AND DOWN AND WEIRD
HAPPENINGS IN VEGAS
BYLINE: BY RICK SIEMAN
FORWARD: Carl and Emma live the good life. Carl, a retired Navy
Chief Petty Officer, drives a huge 4WD Suburban all over the
country exploring off-roading areas. The Suburban, nicknamed
"The Whale", is loaded to the max with every goodies known to
man. Emma, a very patient lady, tries to keep the short-fused
Carl out of as much trouble as possible.
***
When we last them, Carl and Emma were in Las Vegas, because
Carl had found a whole bunch of tourist coupon books with 49 cent
breakfasts in them, and free pulls on the slot machines. So
their trek toward Canada was put on hold for while. To bring you
up to date, Emma had given Carl $20 to gamble with, and had taken
five dollars for herself on the nickel slot machines. Just when
Emma hit the slots for a cool hundred bucks worth of nickels,
Carl wandered up with a glum look on his face. Emma thought it
was just gas, but when Carl told her that he had not only lost
the twenty bucks, but the title to The Whale as well, she went
ballistic:
***
"Carl! You bonehead! You can't be serious. We live in The
Whale. It's our rolling home! Tell me it isn't so?"
Carl looked down at the thick purple carpet. "Sorry, honey
pot. But it's so."
A large blue vein started throbbing visibly in both of Emma's
temples. "How could you!"
Carl scratched at his head and looked as sheepish as it was
possible for a human to look without getting sheared. "Well, you
see... it went like this. I sat down at the poker tables and
started winning big right away. I musta been ahead by two, maybe
three thousand bucks. Then I hit a bad streak."
"Yes. Go on, you pinhead."
"OK, then I lost about half of that, and then before I knew
it, I was ahead by a solid $8,000 bucks. Maybe more. I figured
this was my lucky day. Then this white-haired old lady sat down
to play. She musta been a hunnert and twenny years old if she
was a day.
"So, before I knew it, she was going head to head with me.
She edged me out for maybe five hands in a row. I'd have a
straight, and this old biddy would have a flush. I'd have a
flush, and she'd have a higher one. I wanted to got over and
smack her upside the head, but she looked a lot like my old Aunt
Ethel.
"Then about an hour into the game, I got a full-house - Queens
over fours - and went to the wall against her. She came up with
trip Kings over deuces. I was so mad I coulda chewed the end of a
half-inch grade-8 bolt.
"Anyway, since I lost most of my money, I figured I'd play one
last hand and then get out of there. Dontcha know it, I get
three 10s right away - this was seven card stud, Emma - and then
two cards later, I catch the fourth ten.
"I started bettin' my brains out, then realized I didn't have any more money on
me. She raised me big. Real big. And I figured I had a sure-lock winner, so I
whipped out the title to The Whale and asked her if this would cover the twenty
thousand dollar raise she had just made.
"At first, she said she didn't want any stupid old truck, but when I showed her
the picture of The Whale I carry in my wallet... you know, the one taken up in
the Appalachian Mountains when we were camping, she agreed to the deal.
"Wouldn't ya just know it? I turned over the four tens, and this old crow flipped
over four Kings, cool as a brain sturgeon."
"You mean brain "surgeon", dummy."
"That's what I said. Anyways, I just sat there in a state of shock until I could
work up the nerve to come over and tell you about it. After all, you are my wife,
and I have to be honest with you."
Emma fixed Carl with a steely-eyed glare. "Not for long you ain't, buster. I'm
going to run off with the first wino I can find who has all of his teeth."
Carl dropped his jaw. "Now, honey-pot... calm down. I got the name and room
number of that old lady, and she says that we can get The Whale back for the
twenty grand we put it up for. So maybe we can just call the credit union back
home, and get some sort of quick loan."
Emma poked a finger in Carl's chest. "Oh, so it's just that simple, is it? Well, let
me remind you, Carl, that we live off your Navy retirement check, and get another
$650 per month rental off of our house. If we take out a loan of that size, there's no
way we can continue to drive all over the place. Our wandering days will come to
an end. We'll have to go back home, and I'll probably have to take a job in some
sleazy strip joint to support you."
Carl looked startled. "Hey, whoa there. Before we get too carried away, let's sit
down and do some thinking. Say, what's that pile of nickels doing on the floor half
way up your ankles?"
"I hit the jack-pot, you boob."
"Then our troubles are over!"
"Not quite. All those nickels add up to a hundred dollars."
Carl beamed. "Heck, it's obvious you're on a streak and I'm not, so let's cash
those nickels in for dollars and try to hit it big. Maybe, just maybe, you can turn
that pile of metal into twenty grand."
Emma furled her brows, then relented. "Well, it's worth a try. Hells-fire, I
couldn't possibly do any worse than you!"
Oh yeah?
After cashing the coins in for hard currency, Emma
ambled over to the crap table and promptly lost the one hundred
dollars in two minutes flat. In desperation, she opened her
purse, extracted a tissue, un-folded it, and exposed ten twenty-
dollar bills. Three minutes later, this was also gone. Tears
streamed down Emma's cheeks, but her jaw was still firm and her
lips tightly clenched.
"C'mon, chowder-head. We've still got three free pulls on
that Big Bertha slot machine. Maybe I can win that free Ford
Bronco and get us out of this scrape."
Carl folded his arms over his chest. "Now, Emma... you know
I've been a Chevy man since day one. I grew up hating Fords.
Heck, I even hated Mercuries and Lincolns."
Emma turned her back on Carl and yelled over her shoulder:
"I'll be over at Big Bertha. You can come on over and lend me
some moral support, or you can stand there with your fingers up
you nose. Make whatever mind you have left up."
Carl scurried after Emma.
It took Emma ten minutes to find the Big Bertha machine,
mostly because it was surrounded by tourists waving coupon book*
lets at the attendant, who swapped them for casino tokens that
fit in the machine.
Carl and Emma watched about sixty tourist couples all pull the
long handle on the over-sized Big Bertha machine, and no one won
anything. It appeared that Big Bertha was a little on the
"tight" side.
Eventually, Carl an Emma worked their way up to the front of
the line, exchanged their coupons for slot tokens, and stood in
front of Big Bertha.
Emma gulped. The machine was over 12 feet tall and each one of
the symbols in the windows was the size of a magazine. Cherries,
lemons, bells, plums and jackpot symbols stared back at Emma.
She inserted the first token into the machine, reached a
sweaty right hand up, and pulled hard on the handle. A bewildering parade of
lemons/cherries/plums/bells and jackpots whirled dizzily in front of Emma.
Click, click, click, click and clunk.
A loser.
Emma and Carl exchanged worried glances. Emma slipped in the
second token, and gave another pull.
Click, clunk, clunk, clunk and click.
Not even close.
Carl put an arm over Emma and gave her a hug. "Go for it,
honey pot. I know you can do it."
Emma gave a weak smile, squeezed Carl's hand, closed her eyes
and pulled the handle.
Jackpot, jackpot, jackpot, jackpot.... hesitation... then a
fifth jackpot!!!
Bells went off, whistles shrieked, sirens honked, red lights
flashed, gongs clanged and Big Bertha shuddered like a beached
whale. How appropriate!
A casino official appeared on the scene within moments, and
pronounced: "Congratulations, folks! You are the winners of a
new Ford Bronco with the full Eddie Bauer package. Sir? Are you
thrilled about this?"
"Not really. I've always been a Chevy man. Winning a Ford is
a lot like gettin' a boil on your... oooof!"
The sharp edge of Emma's elbow in Carl's ribs stopped his
comments rather suddenly.
Emma smiled. "Yes, indeed, it's a wonderful thing. We've
always loved Fords. Especially the Broncos. This will be our
fifth one."
Carl made retching sounds as the casino official turned the
title to the Bronco over to Emma.
Later, in the privacy of the coffee shop, Carl beamed. "Good
job, honey-pot. Now we can sell that damned Bronco real quick an
get our Whale back. Or maybe even trade the new Bronco for The
Whale. Either way, we're back in business!!!"