SPIN 7, Cherry, Double Bar

"Down about 60, but earlier I was down 80. Damn, Connie will give me hell for this!" They were paying on that new couch and that was their month's stake. John moved to Double Bonus Poker on video and ordered another Tequila Sunrise. "Maybe win it back." These new machines were smooth. Quiet operation. Except for the upscale doot-doot whenever the machine hit. Nice to see the credits mount and not have to screw around with coin. Another 5 went into the intake slot.

DEAL | DRAW

Curtis stumbled to his feet, squinted from the morning sun, and tripped over a fallen cardboard wall. He did not know any of these people who were living right next to him. He didn't want to know them either. Grimacing, he gulped some orange juice from a carton he found one week ago in the alley behind some rich person's house. It was opened but not all the juice had poured out so he grabbed it for himself. There had been other good things in that garbage can too . . . an old toothbrush, some brownish lettuce that was wilted but edible, and a couple of bruised bananas that still had their skin on. He hid these items in his clothes when he slept. He had been robbed before.

She never wanted to go back. She would do this for just a little while longer. Just long enough so that she could get discovered as an actress or a model or something. TJ told her she had the stuff of a star. In fact, just the other day when she was complaining about not meeting any producers or directors, he was so enraged that he punched her in the head while admonishing her not to loose faith in Daddy TJ. "Daddy TJ will hook you up, Baby." And she cursed herself for disbelieving. No, she didn't have to go back home. TJ would help her. TJ would make it all right.

The clash of noises and lights he found in the casino assaulted his mind; he was able to forget her just when he needed to. John had been pissed at Connie for two days since Christmas when she swore at him for the first time since they'd been living together. He hadn't talked to her; he slept on the old couch in the den. As his goodbye Christmas act, he chucked the couch out back in the alley. It was a crappy couch and cricked his neck for a week when he slept on it, but that was history . . . A woman shouldn't swear like a truck driver at her new partner and in front of his friends. The rhythm of the machine --

INTAKE. $5 . DEAL | DRAW . HOLD 1 TO 5 . DEAL | DRAW

-- took over and eased the thought process when he had to work out a problem.

DEAL | DRAW . HOLD . HOLD . DEAL | DRAW

Another quarter. Another 6 seconds. He had the rhythm now and was showing the Double Bonus Poker video machine what an expert button flicker could do in 6 seconds. Time taken by the machine to play the upscale doot-doot when it hit only made him itch for the

BET ONE CREDIT . DEAL | DRAW

buttons again.

BET ONE CREDIT . DEAL | DRAW . HOLD . HOLD . HOLD .

He dropped in two bits for extra luck and that was about 9 seconds for five buttons and a coin. Quick, sure flicks of three fingers. Not bad. John was feeling confident in his skills. He had fast Fast FAST card recognition.

"I won't give her a break until tomorrow," John affirmed. "The three days should do it. The silence drives her crazy." He did not touch on his need to control what had happened, control it ever happening it again, control his world through silence, regain control of his equilibrium, control her.

BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT BET ONE CREDIT . DEAL | DRAW . HOLD . HOLD . CANCEL . DEAL | DRAW .

He became one with the click crunch buzzer-bell, coin ring, and an old Joannie Mitchell song piped in. He was zoned; he was home.

On the corner where the freeway spilled out onto the street, Curtis stood slouched and filthy, a hole in his right tennis shoe and pants that sagged lower than his hips. He pretended he didn't notice the disapproving glances and the covert scanning of his person as he shuffled by the drivers of BMWs, Volvos, and Mercedes. He held out his sign made of cardboard that he cut out of one of his walls. The sign begged for money or food from anyone who had a heart. But he did not find many people who had a heart. Instead, he found scraps behind buildings and rations from people he met during the day. He watched women with children and husbands with wives. None of it mattered to Curtis one bit. He watched silently as he thought about moving from the 405 overpass to the 10 freeway overpass just down the road. Less crowded there.

Johnny's thoughts had coalesced -- he knew he'd go over the problem with Connie later that night or first thing in the morning --

BET ONE CREDIT . DEAL | DRAW . HOLD . DEAL | DRAW .

-- 3 of a kind, pay 3 -- and they would be back in bed in less than an hour. She could usually cut a week's headache by at least two days by rubbing his back. He coveted her sitting on his waist, her hands on his lats, and pushing with the heals of her hands.

BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT . BET ONE CREDIT BET ONE CREDIT . DEAL | DRAW . HOLD . HOLD . HOLD . DEAL | DRAW

Pay 9 for a full house times 4. 36. "Now we're rolling on home."

She had at least one more transaction to do that night before sleep, she thought as he held her down with his 250 pound body. She was uncomfortable and he was suffocating her. Her mind wandered to the next disgusting slob she would have to endure before going home. He was kind in comparison to all the others, she thought. But her legs hurt against the fabric of the old couch and it felt like she was bleeding on it. She wondered why all the women's magazines made such a big deal out of sex. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing great about it. He rolled off her and said, "You can go now, Trash," as he threw 3 ten dollar bills on the stained cushion and laughed a callous, mocking laugh. Only one more before home, she thought. Only one more before home.

"Johnny, please don't stop talking to me for that long. It scares me."

"I won't. Connie, you don't cuss at me no more. Don't you say anything like 'Screw you' to me no more. I only use that with my guy friends and not with no lady. And not you in front of my guy friends. Whatsa matter with you?"

"But Johnny, I don't like it when you don't talk to me. It makes me sick inside. It makes me feel bad to be in the apartment with you and not talk. I wonder what we are together. I wonder who we are. I worry."

"Don't you cuss and embarrass me in front of my friends. You're no lady when you do that."

"Johnny babe, let me rub your back and let's get some sleep."

Curtis sat on the old couch on the curb as the sun went down. His butt was wet from sweat as he counted his soft drink cans and wondered how to parlay them into a burger. He knew if he went by Sunset he could get a hot dog. The dog stand usually gave him at least one to go away. "Here's your dog, you turd. Get outta here." He would pee on the building whenever he got a chance in the dark hours of the morning. Curtis did not get up off that couch. He fell asleep and did not wake up when a bullet took the place of his left eye and a teenager's foot landed on his ear for a Polaroid. Proof of manhood initiation. Curtis was the rite of passage for MuiLoco Pachecho, so one bum was off the streets and one gang member was on. We had traded the expense of a welfare case for that of a police investigation. And both involved parties had found home.