by A. K. Smith
I still have two weeks until the two things that gave me insomnia transpire: Amir’s visit and dancing at the Magic Hat. Thinking of Jack always makes my stomach and heart ache and keeps me up most nights. I can’t let my mind wander.
I just spent seven long studious hours taking a test—successfully, I might add—and my brain needs a break. Tired of scheming, planning, and answering questions, I need to be mindless. I need one day to be a normal teenager.
At least one goal is completed: a high school diploma. I form an image of a graduation ceremony, me walking down the aisle in my gown, throwing my cap in the air, Jack’s dreamy smile as he catches his own cap.
It is a milestone in real life that I will never experience. My mind travels to images of the Dream Team and the Hard Liquor Boys, the majority of whom will also never walk down the aisle.
At least I am alive.
Hudson is the most comfortable company I can think of to spend a day within Sin City, and I’m actually excited about what he has in store as I step off the bus in front of the MGM Casino.
“So, you do trust me,” Hudson whispers behind me.
His breath tickles my ear, making me jump at the invasion of my personal space. I am a split second away from taking my backpack and slugging him. I can still feel the remnants of his hot breath on my ear, and the smell of fabric sheets.
His face is consumed by a huge mouth of white teeth, and joy. Hudson is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. Even when slimy George barks at him in the kitchen area, he nods, whistles and keeps stacking glasses.
“Maybe,” I say. “Maybe I trust you.” I smile, a genuine emotion that Hudson naturally brings out.
“Well, do you have ten bucks?”
“Ten bucks? Yes, I have ten dollars. What are we doing?” Money is tight. I am saving every dollar in case Amir destroys my world and I am forced to start over again. Unlike my old life, spending an unbudgeted $10 is a careful decision, but a girl must celebrate her high school graduation.
“Lions, volcanos, and gods.” Hudson spread his hands, then held his fingers to his lips. “Let me show you the secrets of Las Vegas or, as I like to call it, ‘Hudson’s ten buck tour.’”
Hudson’s excitement is contagious, a man on a mission, preparing to give the tour of the year. As we walk toward the entrance of MGM, Hudson takes out a blindfold.
“Trust me?”
I hesitate, and remind myself Hudson is nothing like Tyler, then give him the thumbs up, unsure. “Seriously? Do I have to?”
“Only if you want to.” His happiness is hard to resist. I nod.
“Try it. If you don’t like it, then no blindfold.” He slants his head, studying me. “Hannah, escape from your daily existence, for a minute; let me show you fun.”
In this moment, I do trust him. I am only seventeen, and this is what young people are supposed to do: be in the moment. I want to escape my burdens and be here now.
“Okay.”
The silky blindfold covers my eyes and with gentle hands, Hudson ties it in the back.
“Can you see anything?” he asks.
“No.” I giggle as Hudson grabs my hand. His hand is warm and a little sweaty, but firm and strong as he maneuvers me through the crowds.
I sniff. What is that smell? Not necessarily bad, but different.
“Where are we?” I ask.
He unties my blindfold and pulls the silky black scarf off with a flourish. Golden hair, glassy eyes, and big yellow teeth. We are standing directly in front of two magnificent lions pacing back and forth. I step back from the sheer size of cat power. Their dominant attitude fills the air as they strut in front of me. Beautiful, fierce mammals, they are kings of the jungle in their world. The larger of the two cats, tilts his head to the sky, opens his exceptionally large mouth of teeth, and roars. I jump. These two magnificent beasts know how to tame all the animals of the jungle with one sound, and yet here they are, stuck in the middle of the Las Vegas strip, caged. Power behind bars.
The smaller lion moves closer to me. As I gaze into his unflinching eyes, I know we share the same pain: we both want to be free and in our own home.
“They’re amazing,” I say, and mean it.
From here, it’s off to a shuttle. The blindfold goes back on. “Do you think they’re happy?”
“The lions? Well, it’s a good question. They probably are sad they are caged up and not able to roam free. You know to just be lions, free and in control.”
I understand.
It’s a strange sensation, to lose your sight in a bustling crowd. My chest rises and falls with rapid breaths as I try to enjoy the moment. Walking around with the blindfold is a bit awkward. I have no control and I hate the dark, but the light penetrates the blindfold, unlike THE DARK. Hudson tightens his grip on my hand, and I hold his arm as we walk together. A new lesson in trust. I’m trying it.
The next time the blindfold comes off, I am standing face to face with a mermaid. I always liked mermaids as a little girl and wished I could change my feet to a tail and swim away. I wore out the DVD of The Little Mermaid. This mermaid is wearing a bright orange bikini top with matching colorful fins, she twirls and dances around the fish and coral, her long blonde hair swirls around her face, and it reminds me of my once long blonde hair. Is everyone caged in their own little world? Two other mermaids join her in a spectacular dance, with spotted leopard sharks lying on the floor next to stingrays and bright, vibrant yellow and blue fish swimming back and forth. We are at the Silverton Aquarium.
The fish stick together in schools, each like-kind of fish banded together in a formation.
“It reminds me of high school, little cliques joining together,” Hudson says. We watch the different pods swim away from each other and then back together.
“What clique were you in?” Hudson asks.
“I wasn’t.” I quickly change the subject, trying to steer my memory away from school, the Hard Liquor Boys, the Dream Team, and the bloody shooting. I wonder where Hudson fit in his school, and I can’t picture Hudson in any group, just his own coolness. But I want to stop the conversation of high school. “Lions and mermaids are pretty hard to beat. What’s next, my tour guide? This is fantastic.”
“Just wait, the tour has only just begun.”
Hudson, true to his word, is just getting warmed up.
Next time, I open my eyes to laser lights and moving statues. An amazing showcase of the Fall of Atlantis. For fifteen minutes, the gods shout and the sky rumbles. A moving play, with statutes that speak and move. Inside the Forum shops in Caesar’s Palace, on the hour, statues magically come alive. It’s an incredible light show, creating the illusion of stone moving and talking. When the lights and the music stop, I walk over to the statues to investigate. Enormous stone and concrete sculptures…if someone can make them come alive, anything is possible.
As the night continues, I witness a molten lava volcano erupt at the Mirage and a wildlife habitat with some of the world’s most beautiful winged creatures fly and walk around a room outside slot machines at The Flamingo.
Hudson saves the best for last. Momentarily without sight, my ears try to pinpoint the sounds I’m hearing.
Outside, I’m definitely outside.
The scents are overwhelming—fried foods, booze, and perspiration of Las Vegas all mixed together, and then I hear the traffic and pedestrians, like a background musical of sound effects. My blindfold draws attention from the tourists. “What are they doing?” someone in a hushed tone.
Hudson laughs, and the unique melody of his happiness adds to the soundtrack. I smile. “It’s my friend’s birthday and I’m surprising her, showing her Las Vegas for the first time.”
“Well, she can’t see it very well.” I hear a flirty girl’s voice and sweet laugh. Yes, something about Hudson makes everyone happy.
“She will, it’s the element of suspense that’s exciting.”
I stand there blindfolded and smile. It is fun not knowing where you are and trusting
someone almost like I trusted Jack.
Before Hudson removes my blindfold for the last time, water thunders. The air changes and humidity blankets the dry desert air. There is a new fresh smell, almost like the air surrounding my special place at the creek. Water.
A few sharp booms make me jump out of my skin. Gunshots? I claw at the blindfold, breathing hard. I want to run.
“It’s okay, Hannah,” Hudson says, wrapping an arm around me. Hudson’s face is next to mine as he unties the silk scarf. His warm breath on my cheek. His forehead creases, concern written on his face. “I’m sorry that scared you.”
The rafts. The river. The blood.
Soft flute music starts playing as fountains shoot up in the air from a huge body of water in front of me. I steady my breath. “Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on.” Haunting music plays, with an entire lake of fountains shooting high to the sky and then falling back into the lake in rhythm. The water roars to life right in front of me, with a song that rips at my heart.
I am alive. So many are not. Hudson’s arm rests against mine.
I bury my head in his chest and hug him. He envelopes me, wrapping his arms around my entire upper half. We stay entwined long after the song ends, the water recedes back into the lake, and the crowds scurry away to the next attraction.
“Are you okay, Hannah?” He wipes the tears from my face as they drip off my chin.
I turn my face to his. “No not really,” I pause, “but hopefully someday I will be.” I raise my chin.
Hudson goes past my brown-contact eyes, searching deep inside me. I can feel his breath and smell a soft musky scent; I back away.
“I have no doubt at all, Ms. Hannah Williams, that you will be more than okay.”
“Thank you, Hudson. Thanks for being my friend and thanks for the tour.”
He lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “You’re welcome, Hannah. I’m glad you liked it.”
He holds my gaze, studying my face.
After a few seconds, I look away and change the subject. “So, what’s the ten dollars for?”
“It’s for the last bit of the tour, The Grand Finale. Are you hungry?”
“I am. Starving.”
We end up at Mr. Lucky’s Café at the Hard Rock Hotel. The menu looks pretty expensive amidst all the museum pieces of musical history and the old rock and roll legend’s clothing. Hudson said ten dollars, but very few entrées are under twenty.
“Do you mind if I order for you, Hannah?”
I shake my head, worried about sitting here, in a place I can’t afford. I can’t spend twenty or thirty bucks on one meal.
As the waitress comes up to the table, Hudson puffs out his chest with an enormous smile on his face.
“We will take two ‘Gambler Specials’, please.” Hudson put his hand on my arm. “We are celebrating this one’s birthday.”
The waitress smiles and collects our menus. “Happy birthday, honey.”
My mind flashes back to the last time I went out to dinner to celebrate a birthday. I swallow the anxiety building inside and study Hudson, who I know is nothing like Tyler. Absolutely no similarities.
“Really, my birthday?”
“Yes, I’m celebrating your birthday—when is it?” Hudson asks.
He is asking about Hannah’s birthday; I have to remind myself. “November 8. I have a long time until I turn nineteen,” I say, which is true, since I really just turned seventeen. “What’s a ‘Gambler Special’?”
“You’ll see. It’s not on the menu, but if you know about it, you can ask for it anytime, and they will serve it to you. It’s a precious secret only the locals know.”
Hudson was spot on: for $7.77 we had a delicious three-course meal complete with a juicy flatiron steak, three jumbo shrimp, a beautiful salad, and buttery garlic mashed potatoes. The waitress even threw in dessert, a triple layered chocolate cake, which we shared. I ask her to please not sing Happy Birthday, as she brings the cake over with a candle, and her mouth forms into a chord, she obliges. I wish I could tell Hudson about my GED, but even without sharing my accomplishment, it is a perfect celebration for my secret graduation.
Stomachs full, we walk back to my apartment; the lateness of the hour doesn’t faze us. Silence fills the air as the electric lights and constant hum of Vegas engulfs us. What has changed since dinner? I can sense something different.
“Thank you again, Hudson. It was an epic tour.” I mean it.
“I was thinking about making some cash and doing a walking tour for first-time visitors. What do you think?”
“I think you can’t blindfold them.”
“No, it might get a little hairy crossing the street,” he says, and chuckles. “I used to do this in every town we moved to. My mom would be working two or three jobs and when she finally had one day off, which generally took forever. I would have the house cleaned, the laundry done, and surprise her with a tour of all the best free things our new city had to offer. They were interesting tours, some hidden things you would be amazed at, but Vegas takes the cake. I could show you hours more of wonderful things. You just received the highlight tour.”
“I bet your mom would love this.”
“Yes, she would. Where else within a three-mile stretch can visitors gaze upon the Eiffel Tower, an Egyptian pyramid, Imperial Rome, the New York City skyline, a dancing fountain, and,” he pauses for emphasis, “an exploding volcano? When she visits, I’ll have the perfect tour all mapped out.” He rubs his hands together. “I would love for you to meet her. She’d like you.”
Love and kindness surround Hudson’s demeanor when he speaks of his mother. He reminds me of Jack. Do all good boys love their moms?
Hudson walks over to a bench in the park. This park, not too far from UNLV, has a nice playground area. Hudson and I have met here a few times and then walk to get the bus. I come here sometimes after work to think. It is the closest thing I can find to my spot back home by the creek.
Hudson is watching me. I can see his head is turned sideways. “I know the Magic Hat isn’t your dream job, and is definitely not one of the spectacular Strip casinos, but are you sorry you didn’t move to Cali?”
I inhale and let it out. “I don’t know. I always dreamed of California: soft beaches, surf, sun. I’m sure what I have pictured is not even reality.” I lean back on the bench. “But it’s all right. I have a job and a place to stay, although now George wants me to dance at the Magic Hat. Not sure what to do about that. Me dancing…” I make a face. “I guess I have a couple weeks to figure it out.”
“Yeah, I heard about that. I’m not sure he’s really going to go through with putting cages by the Houdini Bar. He wants them high above the bar. I think it will cost him too much money, and insurance. George is cheap. I’m sorry, Hannah. I wish I could help you find something else. Help you…”
I put my hand on his arm. It’s my turn to study his face, as the metal on the bench behind him picks up a glint of light from the dented moon hovering in the sky. I move closer and pull on his arm so he will look at me.
“You have helped me, Hudson. The apartment, the job…do you know how much you have helped me?” The truth of it fills my eyes, and my heart is full of gratitude. I close my eyes. I remember his concern and caring heart, openly displayed and written all over his face at the El Cortez.
Hudson moves close, stopping two inches from my face, so close the smell of spearmint gum tickles my nose. My eyes open. He kisses me gently, like a soft breeze, then straightens up with his back against the bench, looking out at the distant lights of the Strip. Just one soft kiss, nothing more. He’s not Jack and he’s definitely not Tyler.
We sit there in a comfortable silence, our arms touching the tiniest bit, taking in the magic of the moment with the twinkling lights of the Strip on display.
It was just like a movie.
Chapter 19
Stinkin’ Rich, Butterflies, and Fried Eggs
I wake up dreaming of Ja
ck.
Jack and Sunday.
In my closet bedroom, the night light casts an orange glow on my hanging clothes, reminding me without a doubt where I am at. It’s a funny thing about dreams: for a minute, there’s a crack in the universe, and the subconscious world exists. When I dream, I’m Sunday. Long blonde hair, blue eyes and the underlying terror of HE and SHE. It’s always Sunday, never Hannah. My hand snakes up to the back of my head: yes, it is still short and curly Hannah hair. I wonder when I will start dreaming of being Hannah.
Last night was a lesson in acceptance. Admission of my new existence. This life I’m living is growing tangible. I actually had fun yesterday, a first for Hannah.
My mind wanders to the soft kiss. It was very innocent, but romantic without being overbearing. I am unsure of what category to put Hudson in. It bewilders my common sense, my intuition, and my desire. Do I like Hudson? I mean, like him, like him? In my logical mind, Hudson is like a big brother, what I imagine Clark to be: kind, accepting without being judgmental, and always on my side. Yet, thinking about the few seconds his lips touched mine creates butterflies in my chest. Happy butterflies. I intermittently go back to conjuring that moment in my mind until I sense the fluttering of little wings, relishing this new feeling.
I love Jack, but I have to let him go. Maybe Hudson is a way to help me get over Jack.
Groaning, I realize I need to work a double today at the Magic Hat. A cocktail waitress named Nell needs a day off for her daughter, Molly, and no one would trade with her. She seemed desperate. I agreed to work her shift and mine. It will make for a long day, but I’m hoping the tips will be better in Nell’s section. And Nell seems to be somewhat like me, like she’s a little lost and needs help.
The Magic Hat Casino, like all casinos, has no window to reality. The music and the pulsing sounds of the slot machine bang and ding all night long. The crowds change slightly, but only an experienced cocktail waitress or bartender can win the time game. If there were no clocks in the casino, no watch on anyone’s wrist, and no cell phones, would any customer be able to tell WHAT TIME OF DAY IT IS?
