CHAPTER 17--GINNY'S JOY RIDE

A

s sweet and sad as I could muster, Queen, the tones I lent to Louie's little homage to his muse drifted out across the Valley of Fire, and as I sat there strumming this new child into the wind, the dust from behind the Dodge van reached up into the sky like smoke signals from the Indians who once lived on these lands. It was Louie coming back.

Something wasn't right. There was no way he could have done everything I asked him to do in that short amount of time. Something was terribly wrong with this picture.

"What happened?" I screamed.

I could tell by the look on his face as he pulled up and parked, throwing the parking brake, that she had pulled a stunt. A big one. Refused to admit in my mind what I was really thinking.

Could she?

Did she?

Louie got out of the van and came walking with the longest sorriest-looking face I'd ever seen on that punk kid. I could tell he'd been crying.

"Louie, what happened? What the fuck happened?"

My fury at what I suspected had happened outweighed whatever sympathy I was feeling.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so fucking sorry."

"What? What happened?"

"She took off. She split. She's gone. I couldn't find her, and ... and ..."

"What," I said impatiently. Could tell Louie dreaded telling me what he told me next, but out it came.

"She has the box."

"Jesus fucking Christ! How did she get the box? You didn't ..."

"I'm sorry, amigo."

Well, Queen, what can I say? I was pissed. Real fucking pissed. The straw that broke the camel's back and all that other shit. If this thing with Rooster fell through, there went our only means of income. And a 17-year- old casino neophyte from Central Texas armed with the box on the Las Vegas strip could only mean trouble. Was so fucking pissed, I kicked the van. Put the biggest dent ever in its side door. Louie continued with his recounting.

"She just got real pissed when I told her I was going to get her a room. Something about how we've let her down, time and time again, how we don't give a shit about her, that I just want to get in her pants, etc., etc. We won't let her use the box. And now she's not going to get to meet Mr. Rooster. So I gave in. I said, 'if I let you use the box for a few minutes will it be OK if you just stay here for the night? Maybe after we get together with Rooster, we can arrange for him to meet all of us.' I know that's bull shit, Jack, but she was real upset. Practically in tears."

"How hard did you look for her?"

"Hard. Real hard, Jack. All over the floor of the Mirage."

Still, that didn't explain how she managed to get away from him.

"Like I said," Louie continued, "the agreement was I would let her use the box once while I went and got her a room. Told her to sit there and feed quarters for about five minutes before pressing the button. Tried to keep an eye on her, I swear. And then, poof! It's like now you see her, now you don't. I turned around with the room key in hand, and she was gone, like that, amigo."

Louie snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Thought maybe she'd just gone to other side."

"Nowhere to be fucking found. I looked in the casino next door-the pirate one, Treasure Island. Was going to hit Caesar's, but figured the best thing to do was to head back here and get you."

"This sucks, Louie. We're supposed to meet our contact person tonight, who's going to take us to where Rooster is. How are we fixed for cash?"

"We're doing all right, amigo. About $400. Hit about four machines."

Fine, I thought. So the box was gone. So fucking what? Time to move on. Rooster always said that little invention bought him more grief than anything else. What the sister would end up doing with it, I guess, as Louie would say, was whatever God’s will had in store. As mad as I was with Louie, I was really mad at her. Just as soon leave her there in Las Vegas. After all, she was resourceful. She had her box. With that she could have money. More than likely, though, she'd get busted, and the last of the rare, limited- edition Rooster's Magic Boxes would fall into the hands of the authorities, who would either destroy it or try to figure it out so they could build their own. Who fucking knew?

All I knew at that point was that Louie and I could make it to that show that night, and would be on the road to L.A. in the morning, with precious cargo and an IOU for one million bucks. If it was Rooster's job, it pretty much was money in the bank. "So fuck it," I thought. Queen, what did I owe her?

Nothing.

"Oh, well. She was fun for awhile."

I lightened up, put my arm around Louie.

"So, Louie, have you ever gone hunting for a miracle ticket?"

Louie wasn't quite ready to party. He looked at me like I was evil incarnate.

"Jack. Jack of Hearts. We have to go find her."

"No, I did that yesterday. Look what it got me."

"OK, fine, I'll go back and get her myself."

"You'll what?"

Shit, Queen, Louie had the van keys, and was halfway back inside the van before I realized what was happening. The van started and was taking off.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT. YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT."

Ran alongside it, grabbed the passenger door, pulled it open, and jumped in, pretty much giving in to the will of God at that point. The human heart is a dangerous thing to mess with.

"You win, amigo," I conceded. "You win."