“Be gone!” was all she said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something shimmering in the corner.
My interest was really piqued now and I sat up even straighter to watch what happened. The fortune teller lady got up and walked over to whatever it was and made the sign of the cross, spoke a few words, and the thing vanished out of sight. With a big smile, she came back and sat down on the chair.
“He’s gone, Doris. He was just lost and looking for a way home.”
“Oh good. Didn’t want that spirit bugging me anymore. Didn’t seem like a bad guy but I don’t like ghosts roaming around in my house.”
I sat with my jaw dropped and mouth open wondering what the hell had just happened. Yes, I saw something but I didn’t know what it was. The room was suddenly warmer and I realized it got warmer when the thing disappeared. I was left scratching my head and I looked in confusion at the two ladies and I’m sure I looked like an idiot. Doris got up and in a few minutes we were all sitting and drinking a glass of tea. When we finished, Doris’ visitor excused herself and left. Doris walked her to the door thanking her all the way.
When she came back to the front room she told me, “Go home, boy. Nothing more to see here.”
“Doris, what in the world…?”
“I told you, son. I don’t like ghosts in my house. Now git yourself back home; I’ll be fine now.” And she gave me a smile and a wink.
I left shaking my head all the way back to my house and began to look around to see if I had a ghost. I chuckled when I realized what I was doing and sat down to watch some television. I couldn’t explain what had happened, but I guess I have to accept there are some kinds of spirits out there. That was just too weird to accept, but too strange to ignore. If my house ever drops in temperature, I know who I’ll be calling.
I dealt a fresh set of cards to the midnight Blackjack zombies and looked over again at the far corner of the casino. Audrey, the cocktail waitress, now stood there chatting it up with some silver-haired guy in a thousand-dollar suit who looked like he could compete in the senior’s division of the Word’s Strongest Man competition. A couple of young guys holding beers and wearing UNLV t-shirts brushed past them and Frankie the pit boss stood with his back against the wall just off to the right of Audrey.
And then a cold chill flowed over the back of my neck and I knew I’d be seeing the ghost of the girl I’d killed soon.
I’d never had a chance to hit the brakes when she’d run out into the dark, rural road in snowy upstate New York three years ago—and thanks to the two beers in me I’d been too scared to stop. But I’d gotten a good look at her when she’d been thrown across the hood of the Mustang.
And now she’d been haunting me for the past five months.
Either that or I was losing my mind.
“C’mon, wake up, buddy. Hit me.”
I shook my head and got back to the game, flipping the thick-necked biker showing fifteen and a ten. The seventy-something-year-old blue-haired girl held on to her nineteen and the oily-haired skinny guy held on to his rather fortuitous twenty. I turned over an ace of spades next to my queen and collected everyone’s money.
A light hand tapped my shoulder and I turned my head to see Justin, the twenty-seven year-old from Idaho, who’d been working here a year.
“Quitting time, Ace,” Justin said.
“Ace,” that’s what the younger dealers called me.
I looked back at the table and nodded. “Have a good night everyone; it’s been a pleasure.” I gave Justin a pat on the back as he took the spot.
As I walked through the casino, I looked around at all the closed tables. It was pretty dead for a Thursday night. The money had been solid since I’d started working here—not as good as if I’d landed a job on the strip, but working in the heart of Vegas would have made me too nervous. I’d snuck out of New York the day after the accident and when I’d found this little desert town a good twenty miles outside of the usual tourist traps, I knew I had a place to lie low for a while. I’d already worked as a dealer when I was in my mid-twenties in Jersey and had been hired on the spot.
But now I was seeing dead girls.
I slid past a group of drunk salesman types as they yapped at the roulette wheel and into the front lobby.
Cami, who was also a shot girl and dancer at one of the hard-partying hotels on the strip, was working the coat check tonight and she ran her hand through her platinum blond hair and smiled at me as I walked by.
“Done for the night, Ace?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m outta here. Have a good night, Cami,” I said as I went up to the revolving glass door. I felt Cami’s stare as I pushed through it and I knew her shift ended in twenty minutes but I was tired and just wanted to get to bed. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I stopped and took out the pack of Marlboro’s and my silver Zippo from my inside jacket pocket. I slid out a cigarette, brought the
