Louie stood off to the side, relentlessly watching the poker table. Occasionally he moved from the table to pace the length of the wall. There was distrust in his eyes, a wavering cynicism towards Lethe’s childish antics. He faulted himself for giving Lethe so much power.

A faux-Renaissance ceiling rose over the cauldron of gamblers. The atmosphere was wild, antic, seething with glitz and excess. Oxygen poured in through the ceiling, making everyone high. Bottle blondes swam through the crowd with pert, professional smiles. Their nyloned-legs made delicate inroads as they offered free drinks with the casual grace of a sweet mistress. Bankers made bets. Businessmen chatted with girls in bathing suits. Everyone looked displeased and happy at the same time.

Credit cards came out like switchblades.

“Anything is possible! Dreams are real!”

Gamblers waddled like merry penguins between tables and ATMs, maneuvering plastic cups and cigarettes. They slipped into the sea of faces and came out wearing brand new suits and gold watches.

A spectacular waterfall was the hotel’s pride.  Running thirty-feet across and twenty feet high, flying acrobats glittered across the surface in every color of the rainbow.  Lethe stopped at the base in awestruck oblivion.  Against the rumble of incessant water, the acrobats were flung into the air, smiling at him, winking at him, telling him, in essence, “Anything is possible. Your dreams are real!”

Louie trailed after Lethe like a nervous father. Suddenly there were pangs in his stomach. He felt the terrifying prospect of not having a companion anymore, of being alone in Vegas for another year. Then he criticized himself, “I shouldn’t be so overly dependent on strangers.”

Lethe also became insecure in the closed-circuited maze. The haze of smoke, the many eyes of greed, the tentacles of arms reaching out from everywhere at once.  The intensity of Vegas was getting to him, the epic unconsciousness of it all.

Frantic gamblers pressed against them, kneading them into the collective swarm. Undercover cops lurked around the machines. Louie saw cops dispersed throughout the floor, whispering into their walkie-talkies. Lethe thought they were coming to take him away. “I’ve done something wrong, something unspeakable.” They were high on crack and very paranoid.

At last Louie found Lethe at a poker table called “Let it Ride.”

“I want to leave,” the older man demanded.

“But we just got here,” Lethe cried. “C’mon, give me some money. Five more minutes. I promise.”

Louie handed over his last twenty dollar bill.

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