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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #1520006
Howard gets conned in Vegas by a girl calling herself, Molly.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       





    From outer space, the brightest spot on planet earth is Las Vegas, Nevada. That is a whole lot of lights and glitter. What would Mr. Fremont think about the place, now?



    On May 3rd, 1844, John C. Fremont led a group of explorers and missionaries to the Las Vegas valley. Eventually, they named a street after him. Now closed to traffic, Freemont has become a major tourist attraction. Hotels, casinos, gift shops and bars line both sides of the road. A canopy made of lights, cover the four block area. On the hour, a rock song will blare from speakers and the canopy comes to life with swirling pictures and designs. This technical marvel is something you have to see and even then, it’s hard to believe.



      Howard stepped out of the cab and was assaulted by Queen singing that they were the champions of the woooorld. Like everyone else, he stood in the street and gawked at the spectacle. After it ended, he shouldered his way through the crowd and entered the Golden Gate Casino. Slightly seedy, with an old time feel, you half expect to bump into Bugsy Siegel with a couple of dames on his arm. The Gate is known for their three dollar shrimp cocktails. Howard walked to the deli in back, ordered two with a cold beer and pulled up a chair. After consuming the treat, he wandered out to the bar and decided on a double Jack on the rocks. That’s when he met Molly.



    “Buy a girl a drink?”



    Howard spun around on his stool and there she stood. Her black cocktail dress was sleeveless and showed plenty of freckled cleavage. She was wearing heels and a tiny gold chain around her neck. Her red hair shone in the dim light and fell to bare shoulders.



    “Uh…sure,” Howard said. “What are you having?”



    “One of those,” she pointed at his drink and slipped onto a stool.



    “So, what’s your story?”  She smiled.



    He was from Virginia, in town for the trade show, was divorced and currently dating. Molly worked the floor at the Golden Nugget, never married and hoped to go back to school someday. After three drinks, they were the best of friends. Howard suggested that they cross the street and have dinner at Binions. Molly thought that they should go back to her room, she gave the best blow jobs in town.



    “Whoa! You’re a prostitute?” He blurted in surprise.



    “Well, I only do intercourse with my boyfriend, if that makes a difference. What’s the matter honey, never paid for it before?”



    “Actually, no. I just thought that, well, we were getting along so well and that you really liked me.”



    “Do I look like the kind of girl who would drag any bum off the street? I’m very picky about my clients.”



    Howard looked at her. The eyes were the deepest green he had ever seen. Slightly pouty lips, painted pink, glistened with moisture from her drink. Light freckles were sprayed across her face and there wasn’t a line or wrinkle in sight. She had to be somewhere south of thirty.



    “Uh…how much do you charge?”



    The price seemed reasonable by Vegas standards. He followed her up to the Nugget and they entered a room on the first floor. The place smelled stale, the beds were neatly made and he couldn’t see one item of clothing, anywhere. Odd, he thought and closed the door. Molly kicked off her heels and twirled to face him.



    “Want to take off your pants?”  She asked.



    “Yeah, sure,” he continued to glance at the surroundings.



    “You’re not shy, or you?” She crossed the room and eased in close. “Maybe I can help out.”

She thumbed her top and two glorious breasts popped free. Howard stared. They were high and firm without sag and the nipples were erect.

    “Want to touch them?”



    He did and moved in with both hands. Molly sighed and pulled his head down to let him suckle. He felt like he could have stayed like that forever. She slipped a hand downward to rub him. His head snapped up and with trembling hands, fumbled with his belt. Yanking the zipper, his pants and boxers dropped to the floor.



    “Well, tiger, it looks like you’re ready to play,”  Molly’s green eyes flashed and she smiled.



    Howard kicked the pants aside and followed her to the bed. She dove into her purse and extracted a condom.

“Would you mind washing up first and putting this on?”



    He didn’t and snatched it from her hand. His penis bobbed in front of him as he stepped into the bathroom. At least get the water hot, he thought and practically danced in place till the temp was right. Then, he tip toed to lay his stuff on the rim of the sink and grabbed the soap. The warm water and slick soap felt good and he had to be careful. It wouldn’t do to lose it in the sink. He’d never live that down. Carefully, he patted himself dry and rolled on the condom. He stepped out of the bathroom and stared. No one was there.



    “Molly?”  He called and smiled, thinking she was playing hide and seek.



    The closet yielded nothing but empty hangars, under the bed, dust bunnies. He even checked the bathroom that he had just vacated. No Molly, anywhere. She must have stepped out for refreshments. Howard walked over to the bed, sat and waited. Five minutes later, he found himself staring at his pants, still pooled on the carpet. He walked over, picked them up and his heart skipped a beat. The billfold was gone! Son of a bitch! Howard yanked on the pants, not bothering with the condom or boxers. Pulling on the shirt, he stepped into his shoes and hit the door, fast. With no time for buttons, he held the shirt closed and kept to a fast walk. He turned the corner and entered the casino. Eyes darted everywhere, looking for a redhead. His mind whirled. The time in the bathroom couldn’t have been more than four minutes, another one playing hide and seek and five on the bed. Molly had at least ten minutes head start and he was toast. The open door and three steps to Freemont Street loomed in his vision. Howard hit the first step and jumped. An old black man shuffled into his path and they collided. The guy’s hat flew off but Howard managed to grab the old timer’s arm and kept him from falling.



    “I’m sorry, mister. I didn’t mean to run into you,”  Howard shouted, snatched up the hat and thrust it in the old man’s hand.



    He turned to go but the guy snatched his wrist. Howard tugged but the old man was hanging on.



    “What?” Howard forced himself to stand still.



    “I was just wondering if you had some change to spare.”



    “I don’t have any money,” he patted his pockets and found a few coins.



    He slapped them in the man’s palm and drug him three steps. For an old man, he had a strong grip. Howard looked down at the guy, thinking he must be drunk.



    “I’ve got to go, now,”  he forced himself to be calm.



    The guy was smiling. “I can see that, son. Lord a mercy, come running out all wild eyed and half naked, you in a lather for sure! If I was a bettin man, which I ain’t, I’d say that you was chasin a redheaded woman.”



    “Molly? You know Molly? Which way did she go?”



    “Is that what she’s callin herself tonight?” The old timer laughed, the sound a gentle rumble that started deep in his chest. “I swear, that girl’s a mess. She steal your money?”



    “My billfold, cash, credit cards, everything.”



    “Well, just calm down and button your shirt. My name’s Isaiah and I’m gonna git it back.”



    Howard stared at him. Isaiah was of indeterminate age with white stubble on his head and chin. His face was a network of lines and wrinkles. Large bags hung under the eyes which were brown and soft.



    “Well, you comin or ain’tcha?” Isaiah asked.



    They set off down Freemont with Howard slowing his gait to match Isaiah’s. He introduced himself, buttoned and tucked his shirt and kept an eye out for redheads. He had a whole lot of questions for the old man and was trying to frame them in his mind when Isaiah pulled up in front of a brightly lit souvenir shop. A shoeshine stand flanked the front door.



    “This is my stand,” Isaiah patted a well worn wooden arm. “You just climb on up and give me a minute. I’ll step inside and make a call about yore money.”



    Howard stared after him. Maybe he was still being played. Molly and Isaiah would make a good team, her grabbing and him, blocking. She could be on the phone right now, maxing out his cards. It might be best if Howard kept the old man in sight. He stepped into the store. There was no sign of Isaiah. Howard brushed past a rack of tee shirts, turned the corner and almost ran into him again. They stared at each other.



    Isaiah laid a grizzled hand on Howard’s shoulder. “I ain’t runnin off on you, son.”



    “Why are you helping me?”



    Isaiah chuckled and scratched his chin. “Because you came runnin out of the Nugget but stopped long enough to give an old man yore last cent. Course, the Lord had his hand on things, too. He put me out there to see Molly, click clacking across the street, looking back. I knowd that girl was up to something! Then, you and me runnin together like that. Do you reckon you would of ever seen that billfold again if not for stopping and givin me change? Lord knows I couldn’t of caught up with you!”



    “Well, what about Molly? How are you going to get my billfold?”



    “Simple, I know her Mama. It’ll be here directly. While we waitin, I’m gonna shine those shoes, they a mess and ain’t even tied.”



    Howard looked down at his shoes and followed Isaiah out to the stand. Gingerly, the old man knelt down with his wooden box and began extracting contents of pastes, polishes and rags. Howard climbed aboard and presented his feet.



    “I like to talk while I work,” Isaiah said and began dabbing paste on leather. “I’m gonna tell you about another man named Howard. Ever heard of  Howard Hughes?”



    “Sure, he was a billionaire recluse who built a plane out of wood. I think they called it the Spruce Goose.”



    Isaiah chuckled, “That’s Howard alright. Only Howard could of done that. He came out here in sixty-six and rented the top two floors at the Desert Inn. Let me tell you, the whole place was buzzin when Howard came to town. I was right in the middle of it cause that’s where Mama worked. I would come down after school and help her out, mostly washin dishes, stuff like that. One day, Mama comes in with a load of starched sheets, said Mr. Hughes had ordered them. I was to take them up to what she called, Mr. Hughes’s associates. Well sir, I wasn’t about to bother with no associates when given the chance to see the richest man in the world! I just marched straight up to the ninth floor penthouse and knocked on his door like I had the right.”



    “You met Howard Hughes?”



    “Sure did,”  Isaiah stopped and looked up, smiling. “He was sittin in the dark, watching the teevee and holding a container of ice cream. The funny thing was that his spoon was sitting on the dresser, wrapped up in a wash rag. He wouldn’t touch it, said it was crawling with germs and stuff. Here I am with starched sheets and the richest man in the world is frettin over a spoon.”  Isaiah shook his head and bent back to the shoes. “I got him one, too. I snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a spoon and put it in one of those plastic bags like you put sandwiches in. Even added a second bag, just to be safe. Sealed it all up and took it to him. Told him I had personally sterilized the spoon and offered my hands as evidence. They was all pruned up from washin dishes. Yeah, I guess I outsmarted Mr. Hughes cause he took it and ate his ice cream. Asked me a bunch of questions, too. I told him I was gonna quit school to help Mama out cause Daddy had run off. He didn’t like that and looked right at me. Stay in school, he said. I kind of mumbled and stood there a bit. He was done back to watchin teevee and I offered to change the bed. He just shooed me away like you do a fly over Sunday dinner so I left. That wasn’t the end, though. When me and Mama got home from work, a fancy black car was in the driveway. This man in a suit had a check from Howard Hughes. Let me tell you, it was a lot of money. Mama quit work and all us kids got new clothes. Every one of us got an education, too. I guess Howard would have been happy. You know, they say he went crazy later on, sittin around naked with long hair but what I remember is what he done for me and my family. Only Howard could have done that. That’s why I help people like you.”



    Isaiah nodded once and began buffing. His arms moved with a steady rhythm, bringing out the shine. When he finished, he sat back to catch his breath. A young boy on a red bicycle rolled up. Isaiah grunted as he rose and shuffled over to him. The boy handed over the billfold, accepted a tip and pat on the head and peddled away.  Howard sighed with relief when he confirmed that every thing was there.



    “I don’t know what to say,”  Howard looked at Isaiah.



    “Don’t have to say nothing,” Isaiah said and glanced up Freemont. “This is Vegas, man and anything is bound to happen here! Yes sir!”



    Howard followed his gaze and looked at the lights and glitter. When he looked back, the old man was gone. Glancing around, Howard bounded off the stand and ducked into the store. He couldn’t find Isaiah anywhere. Howard walked out onto the street. He took one last look at the shoeshine stand, shook his head and walked away.





                                                                                                                                                       











































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