Liquid Smoke

TWENTY-ONE

“Commotion?” Carter asked when the elevator let us out in the casino.

“Commotion,” I said.

“You’re not just teasing me, are you?”

“Nope. I needed something you were good at.”

I thought he was going to start skipping, he looked so happy.

We went to the change cage, and I bought a hundred bucks in chips. I handed Carter half. Then we found a roulette table.

As we slid into the seats, I whispered to Carter, “Go crazy, dude.”

He gave a tiny nod and set his Slurpee on the edge of the table.

A guy with dark hair and circles under his eyes greeted us. “Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for choosing Bareva. Place your bets, please.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I said. Then I looked at Carter and said louder than necessary, “I bet I’m gonna kick your ass here, bro.”

“You and what person twice your size, bozo?” he said, matching my volume. He dropped a couple of chips on black. He glanced at the worker’s nametag. “Fire her up, Bill, and make sure that fuckin’ little pearl lands on black.”

Bill laughed and turned to me. “Sir? Do you wish to bet?”

“I wanna be black,” I said.

“So did Vanilla Ice,” Carter said. “Let’s go. Drop your money.” “You may also bet on black, sir,” Bill said.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to be the only one on black.”

A perplexed expression settled on Bill’s face. I looked at Carter. “Next round, I’m black.” “Whatever, Vanilla.” He pounded the edge of the table. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I dropped a couple of chips on red.

Bill spun the wheel. The tiny ball jumped like it was electrified. “Come on, you little fucker!” Carter yelled, pounding the table again.

The ball bounced into the black slot and settled as the wheel came to a halt.

Carter stood and jumped up and down like a two-year-old in a crib. “Oh yeah, baby! Pay the big man!”

Bill laughed and slid some chips toward Carter. Carter reached for them, but I grabbed his wrist before he got there.

“That’s my money,” I said.

“The fuck it is, Vanilla,” he said, appropriately appalled. “And you better let go of me before I make you eat this wheel.” “I called black.”

“Too slow, bozo.” He glanced at Bill, like can-you-believe-my-buddy. “Bill, that’s my money, dude.”

Bill now appeared as if he wished he’d called in sick. “Fellas, let’s calm down.”

People were creeping closer, unable to ignore our voices.

“My money,” I said.

“My ass,” Carter said.

I tackled him, and we fell to the floor.

“This is fun,” Carter whispered as he rolled me over.

I wrapped my arms around his head. “Just you wait.”

A flurry of people surrounded us and began pulling us apart. We both ended up in the arms of security guards. Lots of yelling and people telling us to calm down. For a moment, I wondered if our show was all for naught.

Finally, though, from the area near the elevators, three men in dark suits came toward us. Large, severe men.

I looked at Carter. “Here comes the real fun.”