Jean-Jacques Tibor - The loser_s wife

The men at the bar parted to give her a seat with undisguised admiration in their eyes as she perched herself on the stool and tugged her short skirt back down to cover the shapely softness of her thighs.

Johnny kissed her lightly on the cheek and then he and Vito wove their way through the throngs of little old ladies at the slot machines with their paper cups of nickels, fighting their way to the center crap table.

Harry, true to his word, moved up to her end of the bar and mixed his drinks from that side. He stood there and talked to her, protecting her from the more confident men who had edged up with the hope that they might be lucky enough to pick her up.

"Laura," said Harry, "that man of yours sure is talented. I hear an awful lot here at the bar and, just like me, everyone thinks he's going to be a great star. But," he added thoughtfully, "he's got to watch the booze."

She turned to the kindly old man behind the bar, thankful for his company and the advice she knew only too well to be true. Besides, he was talking about the only thing that really mattered to her anymore. Johnny. Johnny and his success.

"Thank you, Harry. You know how much it means to him. It's all he's ever wanted. And…" she continued with a sigh, "the drinking's just temporary." The men standing nearby had heard the bartender's remark and each of them, if for no other reason than an excuse to talk to the beautiful girl, moved close enough to say that they agreed.

She sat there for a little over an hour, acknowledging the talk whenever she had to, and watching her husband at the dice table. She could tell from his animated expressions and joyous laughter that he was winning, and also from the trips that the cocktail waitress was making to the table that he was drinking very heavily. Vito was still there along with about fifteen other people, but they were all standing back watching her husband make one winning pass after another with the dice.

As Harry poured another daiquiri for her she thought inwardly that she really couldn't criticize Johnny's drinking. Sitting there, she had already had five or six of the rum-flavored cocktails and she could feel the dizzying warmth spreading through her.

She glanced around wondering what time it was but there were no clocks on the casino walls. "The City Without Clocks". In Reno, as in any of the other gambling centers in the country, the casinos were open 24 hours a day and none of them displayed any clocks on the walls. Inside the clubs it was impossible to tell night from day and the casinos had no desire to remind anyone how long they had been drinking or gambling.

Laura turned to one of the hovering men for the time and was amazed to find that it was almost three in the morning. She was due back in the casino at noon in her job as a cocktail waitress. Turning to watch Johnny again, she realized there was no way to get him peacefully out of there in his present exuberant condition, particularly while he was ahead.

She called Harry over to say goodnight and rose a little unsteadily from her stool.

A few moments later, during a lull when the dice were being passed to another player she pulled Johnny to the side to tell him she was leaving.

When he felt her hand on his arm he jerked away angrily and started to say something, but she interrupted him…

"No, darling, I'm not asking you to go. I have to, because I'm due back early in the morning."

He mumbled something unintelligible and turned back to the game, patting her clumsily on the buttocks.

He's so different so cold, when he's drinking. He never drank so much before, she thought. It's only been since he started working here. And the gambling! If only he was working somewhere besides a casino! It was so much better before.

She and Johnny had only been married a little over three months and working in the casino just three weeks. His last job had been in Denver and until they'd reached the gambling areas in Nevada she had never known he had such an insatiable desire to gamble.

Now, it was only her money as a waitress that kept them going. And that wasn't enough. Although he was being paid very well to perform in the cabaret, in the past weeks he'd lost every cent on the tables. She'd pleaded with him to stop, they couldn't even pay their rent, but it had only led to violent arguments.

Finally, she had reconciled herself to the fact that there was no way to stop him, and she only hoped that he'd be through here soon.

His next engagement was supposed to be in either San Francisco or Hollywood and the temptation of gambling wouldn't exist. Maybe then they'd be able to get along a little better. She might not even have to work.

She made her way through the crowded club and out onto the brightly lit street. Even in the middle of the night the streets were full of people crossing from one casino to another, the winners smiling and the losers scowling.

Laura walked through the tunnels of flashing neon lights until she came to a darkened street several blocks away. She turned there, passing through a part of Reno the tourists never see. Winos and derelicts sprawled in blackened comers and row after row of sleazy buildings offering rooms for the night for those fortunate enough to scrape up fifty cents or a dollar.

The street always made her uneasy and though the night was warm she shivered as she pulled her coat a little tighter.

She paused under a street light and stared at the ramshackle box-like hotel on the other corner. She was looking for a light in the manager's room. Old Mr. Rogers, the manager, always seemed to be wandering around at any hour of the day or night, and he was the last person in the world she wanted to see.

He had been hounding Johnny and her each time they came in for the overdue rent, and more than that, every time Laura turned around he seemed to be watching her. He was like all the others and she knew exactly what he wanted from her. There was no mistaking that evil glint in his eyes.

She stepped back out of the light and waited until she was satisfied the dirty old man wasn't awake to see her come in and then dashed across the street to the hotel's front door. Laura opened the door as quietly as she could and slipped inside. The single bulb hanging from the long cord in the hallway cast eerie shadows up the narrow flight of stairs to her and Johnny's rooms.

She walked quickly up to the apartment and locked the door and then rested on the edge of the bed to let the pounding in her heart slow down a little.

Even before she removed her coat, she went into the bathroom to run the water in the tub and then mixed herself a strong drink in the closet-sized kitchen, happy she had missed their lecherous old landlord and his obscene looks he always gave her.

Moments later she sat on the creaky bed in her slip and sipped her drink. The bourbon and the soft music from the radio wasn't enough to dispel the gloom that had settled over her as she recalled the way Johnny had been acting lately. Feeling the tears beginning to well up in her eyes she quickly finished her drink and went back into the kitchen to make another before going back into the bathroom.

The El Diablo Hotel had once been the private home of a wealthy Spanish family and remnants of its past glory could still be seen in some of the fine woodwork that still remained or in the old photographs in the lobby that depicted it with the great verandah and fluted columns.

But the last of the Spanish owners had died more than twenty years ago and since that time the house had had many proprietors. It slowly changed from a fine home into a second-rate hotel, and finally became the property of Mr. Eloysius Rogers.

This was the man that made Laura so uncomfortable. A short fat, unkempt man about fifty-five years old. She had complained several times to Johnny that he always seemed to be watching her but her husband had just laughed and replied that so was everyone else, that she ought to feel proud.