sk.everythingseventual- 第98部分

　　
　　William　Avery
　　
　　Trail…Boss
　　
　　Quite　often　the　honeypot　was　empty…she　had　found　envelopes　torn　up　in　the　wastebasket；　crumpled　up　in　the　corner　（as　if　the　idea　of　tipping　the　chambermaid　actually　infuriated　some　guests）；　floating　in　the　toilet　bowl…but　sometimes　there　was　a　nice　little　surprise　in　there；　especially　if　the　slot　machines　or　the　gaming　tables　had　been　kind　to　a　guest。　And　322　had　certainly　used　his；　he'd　left　her　a　quarter；　by　God！　That　would　take　care　of　Patsy's　braces　and　get　that　Sega　game　system　Paul　wanted　with　all　his　heart。　He　wouldn't　even　have　to　wait　until　Christmas；　he　could　have　it　as　a　。　。　。　a　。　。　。
　　'A　Thanksgiving　present；'　she　said。　'Sure；　why　not？　And　I'll　pay　off　the　cable　people；　so　we　won't　have　to　give　it　up　after　all；　we'll　even　add　the　Disney　Channel；　and　I　can　finally　go　see　a　doctor　about　my　back　。　。　。　shit；　I'm　rich。　If　I　could　find　you；　mister；　I'd　drop　down　on　my　knees　and　kiss　your　fucking　feet。'
　　No　chance　of　that；　322　was　long　gone。　The　Rancher's　probably　was　the　best　lodging　in　Carson　City；　but　the　trade　was　still　almost　entirely　transient。　When　Darlene　came　in　the　back　door　at　seven　A。M。；　they　were　getting　up；　shaving；　taking　their　showers；　in　some　cases　medicating　their　hangovers；　while　she　was　in　Housekeeping　with　Gerda；　Melissa；　and　Jane　（the　head　housekeeper；　she　of　the　formidable　gunshell　tits　and　set；　red…painted　mouth）；　first　drinking　coffee；　then　filling　her　cart　and　getting　ready　for　the　day；　the　truckers　and　cowboys　and　salesmen　were　checking　out；　their　honeypot　envelopes　either　filled　or　unfilled。
　　322；　that　gent；　had　dropped　a　quarter　in　his。　And　probably　left　her　a　little　something　on　his　sheets　as　well；　not　to　mention　a　souvenir　or　two　in　the　unflushed　toilet。　Because　some　people　couldn't　seem　to　stop　giving。　It　was　just　their　nature。
　　Darlene　sighed；　wiped　her　wet　cheeks　with　the　hem　of　her　apron；　and　squeezed　open　the　envelope…322　had　actually　gone　to　the　trouble　of　sealing　it；　and　she'd　ripped　off　the　end　in　her　eagerness　to　see　what　was　inside。　She　meant　to　drop　the　quarter　back　into　it；　then　saw　there　was　something　inside：　a　scrawled　note　written　on　a　sheet　from　the　desk…pad。　She　fished　it　out。
　　Below　the　horse…and…rider　logo　and　the　words　JUST　A　NOTE　FROM　THE　RANCH；　322　had　printed　nine　words；　working　with　a　blunt…tipped　pencil：
　　
　　This　is　a　luckey　quarter！　Its　true！　Luckey　you！
　　
　　'Good　deal！'　Darlene　said。　'I　got　a　couple　of　kids　and　a　husband　five　years　late　home　from　work　and　I　could　use　a　little　luck。　Honest　to　God　I　could。'　Then　she　laughed　again…a　short　snort…and　dropped　the　quarter　into　the　envelope。　She　went　into　the　bathroom　and　peeped　into　the　toilet。　Nothing　there　but　clean　water；　and　that　was　something。
　　
　　She　went　about　her　chores；　and　they　didn't　take　long。　The　quarter　was　a　nasty　dig；　she　supposed；　but　otherwise；　322　had　been　polite　enough。　No　streaks　or　spots　on　the　sheets；　no　unpleasant　little　surprises　（on　at　least　four　occasions　in　her　five　years　as　a　chambermaid；　the　five　years　since　Deke　had　left　her；　she　had　found　drying　streaks　of　what　could　only　have　been　semen　on　the　TV　screen　and　once　a　reeking　puddle　of　piss　in　a　bureau　drawer）；　nothing　stolen。　There　was　really　only　the　bed　to　make；　the　sink　and　shower　to　rinse　out；　and　the　towels　to　replace。　As　she　did　these　things；　she　speculated　about　what　322　might　have　looked　like；　and　what　kind　of　a　man　left　a　woman　who　was　trying　to　raise　two　kids　on　her　own　a　twenty…five…cent　tip。　One　who　could　laugh　and　be　mean　at　the　same　time；　she　guessed；　one　who　probably　had　tattoos　on　his　arms　and　looked　like　the　character　Woody　Harrelson　had　played　in　that　movie　Natural　Born　Killers。
　　He　doesn't　know　anything　about　me；　she　thought　as　she　stepped　into　the　hall　and　pulled　the　door　closed　behind　her。　Probably　he　was　drunk　and　it　seemed　funny；　that's　all。　And　it　was　funny；　in　a　way；　why　else　did　you　laugh？
　　Right。　Why　else　had　she　laughed？
　　Pushing　her　cart　across　to　323；　she　thought　she　would　give　the　quarter　to　Paul。　Of　the　two　kids；　Paul　was　the　one　who　usually　came　up　holding　the　short　end　of　the　stick。　He　was　seven；　silent；　and　afflicted　with　what　seemed　to　be　a　perpetual　case　of　the　sniffles。　Dar…lene　also　thought　he　might　be　the　only　seven…year…old　in　the　clean　air　of　this　high…desert　town　who　was　an　incipient　asthmatic。
　　She　sighed　and　used　her　passkey　on　323；　thinking　that　maybe　she'd　find　a　fifty…or　even　a　hundred…in　this　room's　honeypot。　It　was　almost　always　her　first　thought　on　entering　a　room。　The　envelope　was　just　where　she　had　left　it；　however；　propped　against　the　telephone；　and　although　she　checked　it　just　to　be　sure；　she　knew　it　would　be　empty；　and　it　was。
　　323　had　left　a　little　something　for　her　in　the　toilet；　though。
　　'Look　at　this；　the　luck's　starting　to　flow　already；'　Darlene　said；　and　began　to　laugh　as　she　flushed　the　john…it　was　just　the　way　she　was　built。
　　
　　There　was　a　one…armed　bandit…just　that　single　one…in　the　lobby　of　the　Rancher's；　and　although　Darlene　had　never　used　it　during　her　five　years　of　work　here；　she　dropped　her　hand　into　her　pocket　on　her　way　to　lunch　that　day；　felt　the　envelope　with　the　torn…off　end；　and　swerved　toward　the　chrome…plated　foolcatcher。　She　hadn't　forgotten　her　intention　to　give　the　quarter　to　Paul；　but　a　quarter　meant　nothing　to　kids　these　days；　and　why　should　it？　You　couldn't　even　get　a　lousy　bottle　of　Coke　for　a　quarter。　And　suddenly　she　just　wanted　to　be　rid　of　the　damned　thing。　Her　back　hurt；　she　had　unaccustomed　acid　indigestion　from　her　ten　o'clock　cup　of　coffee；　and　she　felt　savagely　depressed。　Suddenly　the　shine　was　off　the　world；　and　it　all　seemed　the　fault　of　that　lousy　quarter　。　。　。　as　if　it　were　sitting　there　in　her　pocket　and　sending　out　little　batches　of　rotten　vibes。
　　Gerda　came　out　of　the　elevator　just　in　time　to　see　Darlene　plant　herself　in　front　of　the　slot　machine　and　dump　the　quarter　out　of　the　envelope　and　into　her　palm。
　　'You？'　Gerda　said。　'You？　No；　never…I　don't　believe　it。'
　　'Just　watch　me；'　Darlene　said；　and　dropped　the　coin　into　the　slot　which　read　USE　1　2　OR　3　COINS。　'That　baby　is　gone。'
　　She　started　to　walk　off；　then；　almost　as　an　afterthought；　turned　back　long　enough　to　yank　the　bandit's　lever。　She　turned　away　again；　not　bothering　to　watch　the　drums　spin；　and　so　did　not　see　the　bells　slot　into　place　in　the　windows…one；　two；　and　three。　She　paused　only　when　she　heard　quarters　begin　to　shower　into　the　tray　at　the　bottom　of　the　machine。　Her　eyes　widened；　then　narrowed　suspiciously；　as　if　this　was　another　joke　。　。　。　or　maybe　the　punchline　of　the　first　one。
　　'You　vin！'　Gerda　cried；　her　Swedish　accent　ing　out　more　strongly　in　her　excitement。　'Darlene；　you　vin！'
　　She　darted　past　Darlene；　who　simply　stood　where　she　was；　listening　to　the　coins　cascade　into　the　tray。　The　sound　seemed　to　go　on　forever。　Luckey　me；　she　thought。　Luckey；　luckey　me。
　　At　last　the　quarters　stopped　falling。
　　'Oh；　goodness！'　Gerda　said。　'Goodness　me！　And　to　think　this　cheap　machine　never　paid　me　anything；　after　all　the　quarters　I'm　stuffing　it　with！　Vut　luck　is　here！　There　must　be　fifteen　dollars；　Darl！　Imagine　if　you'd　put　in　tree　quarters！'
　　'That　would　have　been　more　luck　than　I　could　have　stood；'　Dar…lene　said。　She　felt　like　crying。　She　didn't　know　why　that　should　be；　but　it　was；　she　could　feel　the　tears　burning　the　backs　of　her　eyeballs　like　weak　acid。　Gerda　helped　her　scoop　the　quarters　out　of　the　tray；　and　when　they　were　all　in　Darlene's　uniform　pocket；　that　side　of　her　dress　sagged　ically。　The　only　thought　to　cross　her　mind　was　to　think　that　she　ought　to　get　Paul　something　nice；　some　toy。　Fifteen　dollars　wasn't　enough　for　the　Sega　system　he　wanted；　not　by　a　long　shot；　but　it　might　buy　one　of　the　electronic　things　he　was　always　looking　at　in　the　window　of　Radio　Shack　at　the　mall；　not　asking；　he　knew　better；　he　was　sickly　but　that　didn't　make　him　stupid；　just　staring　with　eyes　that　always　seemed　to　be　inflamed　and　watering。
　　The　hell　you　will；　she　told　herself。　You'll　put　it　toward　a　pair　of　shoes；　is　what　you'll　do　。　。　。　or　Patsy's　goddam　braces。　Paul　wouldn't　mind　that；　and　you　know　it。
　　No；　Paul　wouldn't　mind；　and　that　was　the　hell　of　it；　she　thought；　sifting　her　fingers　through　the　weight　of　quarters　in　her　pocket　and　listening　to　them　jingle。　You　minded　things　for　them。　Paul　knew　the　radio…controlled　boats　and　cars　and　planes　in　the　store　window　were　as　out　of　reach　as　the　Sega　system　and　all　the　games　you　could　play　on　it；　to　him　that　stuff　existed　to　be　appreciated　in　the　imagination　only；　like　pictures　in　a　gallery　or　sculptures　in　a　museum。　To　her；　however　。　。　。
　　Well；　maybe　she　would　get　him　something　silly　with　her　windfall。　Something　silly　and　nice。　Surprise　him。
　　Surprise　herself。
　　
　　She　surprised　herself；　all　right。
　　Plenty。
　　That　night　she　decided　to　walk　home　instead　of　taking　the　bus。　Halfway　down　North　Street；　she　turned　into　the　Silver　City　Casino；　where　she　had　never　been　before　in　her　life。　She　had　changed　the　quarters…there　had　been　eighteen　dollars'　worth　in　all…into　bills　at　the　hotel　desk；　and　now；　feeling　like　a　visitor　inside　her　own　body；　she　approached　the　roulette　wheel