Chapter 2 – The Reno

Nevada 1999

The battered Chevelle powered through the dark desert night, its recently rebuilt engine, courtesy of Arturo and Trey, rumbling with controlled power as it ate up the miles.

"Ryan. Hey, Ryan. Wake up, baby," Dawn urged, the dark isolation of the highway starting to wear on her nerves.

Ryan shrugged off his mother's persistent tug on his shoulder and nestled his head back on his jacket, which was bunched up against the car door. Sleep had almost reclaimed him when he felt a sharp fingernail poke into his side.

"Ow! What is it, Mom?" He said grumpily. Ryan was a deep sleeper and always had been, Dawn thought. Even as a baby, he could have slept through a hurricane.

"Ryan, come on. Wake up and talk to me, okay? I'm starting to get really sleepy 'cause it's so quiet. We've only got about 50 miles to go."

"Geez, just turn on the radio, Mom," Ryan muttered sleepily.

"Come on, Ryan," Dawn wheedled. "I really need some company."

Not for the first time did Ryan wish that Trey had come along on this impromptu trip to Reno. Trey had made up some lie about a job interview but Ryan knew that he was really just looking for an excuse to have a party at the house while they were gone.

Ryan struggled awake and sat up, running his hands through his hair. Yawning loudly, he reached under the seat for his now tepid bottle of soda. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, just anything…Oh, oh, I know. Help me go over my counting strategy again. I still get kind of mixed up over it. It's just been so damn long since I've played."

"Mom, you better not get caught counting. They'll throw you out. Again."

"No, no. I think I've got the hang of it now. I just need you to help me review," Dawn said, wishing that Ryan were old enough to play blackjack himself. For a twelve-year-old kid, he had an amazing ability to understand the whole counting strategy and even knew three different ones. Ryan always had been the smart one in the family. Lord knows where he got it from. "Come on, go over it with me one more time. Please."

"Okay," Ryan sighed, knowing full well that any chance for further sleep was now gone. "Just do the basic Plus/Minus, don't try to get all fancy again with Advanced or "Hi-Opt". You'll just end up confusing yourself and there's not that much difference between them anyway."

"Alright, alright. So step me through it again." Since she stopped drinking a month ago, Dawn felt like her head was fuzzier now than it ever had been when she was wasted. I can't remember shit, she thought. All I can think about is wanting a drink so bad I could scream.

"A plus for low cards and a minus value for high cards," Ryan said patiently.

"Right, right, I remember now," Dawn added eagerly, "and 7, 8, and 9 are valued zero because they don't really have any effect."

"Yeah. So at the end of a deck, the count should be zero."

"Okay, and if there's more than one deck, I do a "true-count", right?"

"Right, Mom. And don't forget, if you have trouble keeping the count straight in your head, just use your chips to help you remember."

"So, after every hand, I just tally up the net count and update the running count by rearranging my chips, right?"

"You got it, Mom," Ryan said, giving her a soft half-smile of encouragement.

"Damn straight, Kid," Dawn enthused. "I'm gonna parlay this piddly-ass tax refund into a huge chunk of change for us. Hey, we'll get you a new bike, how about that?"

"That's okay, my old one's fine."

"No, no, no. You're my baby and you deserve it for putting up with so much shit." Dawn paused, clearly uncomfortable. "Ryan, honey, I'm real sorry about what happened with Mike. I'm sorry he hit you, baby. I didn't know he was such an asshole when I met him."

"It's okay, Mom," Ryan said, turning his gaze back out the window to watch the desolate landscape fly by.

"Well, anyway," Dawn trilled, happy to change the subject, "That son of a bitch is gone now, so it's just me and my boys again. I'm feeling good now, Ryan. Really strong. I think we're gonna be okay this time."

Ryan didn't bother to look back at her but gently said, "I know, Mom."

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Ryan and Dawn had slept through the day and then she had headed out to try her luck just as the sun was going down. Ryan had managed to convince her to stay in the same motel they had been in during their last trip. He had been relieved to see that the little diner was still across the highway. He waited impatiently for Dawn to leave and then headed over there straight away. He took a seat at the counter and asked the kindly looking middle-aged waitress for a coke. When she brought it to him, he shyly asked if Sarah was working tonight. The waitress seemed confused and said there was nobody named Sarah working there. She'd been working there herself for over a year and didn't remember anyone by that name.

"Hey, Marty," she called, after seeing the young boy's crestfallen look. "Did a girl named Sarah ever work here?"

"Yeah, who wants to know?" The wiry fry cook asked, leaning through the pick-up window.

"Um, I'm kind of a friend of hers and I just wanted to say hello," Ryan said nervously.

Marty was reassured that it was just some little kid and not a sleazy jerk. "Well, kid, Sarah quit about a year and a half ago. She was starting college."

Ryan felt a sick feeling of disappointment. He had always remembered the pretty, dark haired waitress who had been so nice to him a couple of years ago. He didn't know what he had expected but he had just wanted to stop by and say hello. He nodded his thanks at the cook and then headed out the door again.

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As Ryan neared the strip of brightly lit casinos, he started to worry about Dawn again. Gambling casinos were certainly not the best places for recovering alcoholics to hang out. Dawn had been sober for almost two months now and Ryan could tell she was feeling a bit too self-confident about her sobriety. He decided to just take a look through several of the places to see if he could find her and see how she was doing. In Nevada, kids could walk through the casinos, but had to remain at least eight feet from any gaming machine or table. Luckily, there were walkways through all of the casinos so Ryan could pass through and maybe catch a glimpse of her.

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By the time Ryan entered the third casino, he was starting to worry a little. He checked the layout and then headed toward the area with the blackjack tables. A loud, shrill voice over to his left was disturbingly familiar. Hurrying in that direction, he caught sight of his mom struggling and arguing with a guy who was trying to escort her toward the door.

"Let go of me, you asshole," Dawn yelled, struggling to pull her arm free.

Ryan pushed through the people standing in his way and ran straight into the goon who was manhandling his mom.

"Let her go, you jerk!" Ryan yelled and pushed against the burly guy's stomach.

"Get outta the way, kid. It's time for the lady to go home."

Dawn yanked her arm free from the security guard's grasp and pulled Ryan toward her. His heart sank as he smelled the booze on her breath.

The guard stepped back a foot and gave Ryan an appraising glance.

"This your mom, kid?"

"Yeah."

"Well, come on. Help me get her outside before they call the cops."

Ryan and the guard each put an arm around Dawn's waist and helped her through the crowd until they reached the doorway. She continued to curse and accuse the house of cheating her. "Yeah, people, you better watch out. They'll steal your fucking money, too, those assholes."

When they reached the sidewalk outside, the guard pulled his arm away from her. Dawn suddenly swung around, trying to hit him with her purse. She lost her balance and fell hard on the sidewalk. Ryan, who was still holding onto her, fell with her. He scrambled to his knees and began trying to pull her up again.

"Mom, come on, stand up, okay? It's time to go home."

"Ryan, is that you baby? Those bastards were cheating me. I lost everything." With that, she began to sob in earnest. Ryan was struggling to pull her to her feet but she seemed oblivious to his efforts.

"Mom, where's the car? Come on, Mom, help me out, okay?"

Ryan became aware of a crowd gathering around to stare at them, some with pity and some with disgust. The pity was the worst. It infuriated him. He brushed his sleeve across his eyes and then yelled brokenly at the people gathered around them.

"What are you looking at? Quit looking at her, damn it!"

He reached back down to pull with all of his strength, determined to get Dawn on her feet, when he heard a man's voice drawl meanly, "It ain't nothin' but a stupid, drunk whore."

Ryan dropped his mom's arm and charged toward the voice, flailing his arms and hitting as hard as he could.

"Hey, you stupid punk, what the hell you think you're doing?" The redneck yelled angrily and pushed at the furious boy.

Before the man could shove him to the ground, Ryan felt large arms encircle his chest and lift him up off his feet.

"Calm down, kid. It'll be okay," said a rough male voice in his ear. It was the muscular security guard, who had decided to come back and give the kid a hand. "Come on, little buddy. Let's help your mom up and get out of here."

Ryan was breathing heavily and still seeing red. He wanted to punch that asshole for calling his mom names. He looked up to see the guard looking at him sympathetically. "I don't need your help," he said gruffly, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I can take care of her."

"I know you can, kid, but I'll just help you get to your car. Where is your car, by the way?"

"I don't know." They lifted Dawn to her feet again. "Mom…Mom, dammit, where's the car?"

Dawn was giggling by this time. She waved an arm vaguely in the direction of the large parking area across the road. "S'over there somewhere," she slurred.

"What row, Mom?"

"R. R for Ryan. I knew that way I'd remember it. See, I'm not so stupid after all. Hey, who's your cute friend, Ry? You gotta name, Mister?"

"Bill," he said while looking around her toward Ryan. "What kinda car we looking for, kiddo?"

"Chevy Chevelle, black."

"Chevelle, huh? Great old muscle car. I had one of those back in my younger days."

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally managed to locate the car. Bill gently leaned Dawn up against the car while Ryan dug through her purse looking for the keys.

He unlocked the passenger side door and they eased Dawn down onto the front seat. Ryan started to head around to the driver's side when Bill put his hand gently on his shoulder.

"Wait. How're you gonna do this? You can't drive this thing."

"Sure I can. I've done it before," Ryan said calmly.

Bill looked over at the young boy. He had blond hair slightly darker than that of his pretty mother. But his eyes - his eyes were bleak and weary. Bill had been raised by an alcoholic mother himself and he knew what the kid was going through. He also knew that pity would kill the boy; drive a knife through his heart.

"Okay, kid. You drive careful, now, okay? Take a left out of the lot and then take the first right. That'll get you off the main thoroughfare. Better to keep to the side streets as much as possible. Where you staying?"

"Over on Highway 25, just inside the city limits."

"Okay, that's pretty easy. Head over that way," Bill said, pointing west. "See that tower over there? Just use that to navigate by. It's just off 25 so it'll be easy to find your motel."

Ryan gazed across the hood of the car toward the large man. He saw understanding in the man's eyes but not a trace of pity.

"Okay, well, thanks for your help. We gotta go now," Ryan said, ducking his head but keeping his eyes glued on the guy. He wasn't sure what this guy's game was.

"See ya, kid. Take good care of your mother," Bill said with a friendly wave of his hand and a disarming smile. He turned and headed back toward the casino lights, causing Ryan to heave a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath.

Ryan slid behind the steering wheel then rummaged in the back seat for a minute until he found the faded sofa pillow. He slipped it under him so that he had a better view out the windshield, but unfortunately this made it a little hard to reach the pedals. He scooted the seat up as far as it would go, thankful that the car was an automatic. No way would he have been able to depress a clutch.

As they drove through the back streets of the city, Dawn leaned her head against the window and started sobbing quietly. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. I've screwed everything up. I lost all our damn money. Again."

"It's okay, Mom. I kept enough back for our gas money home."

"I'm…I…I just had a few drinks, Ry. I was feeling really good and I was winning, too. I was kickin' the house's ass for a while but then…well, I don't know what happened. I promise, Ryan, I won't drink anymore tomorrow. I'll get back on the wagon. I just screwed up tonight, okay? Okay, baby?"

"I know, Mom. It's alright."

"It's just…well…I just," she started sobbing brokenly again. "I just really miss your dad, Ryan. That stupid jerk left me all alone. God, I miss him so much sometimes."

"I know, Momma. Just go to sleep. It'll be better tomorrow."

As he parked in front of their motel room door, he looked over at Dawn who was finally sleeping. Ryan hated to wake her but, after unlocking the door to their room, he managed to help her stagger inside and fall on the bed. Covering her softly with a blanket, he reached over and brushed her blond hair out of her eyes. A shadow fell over her face and she murmured plaintively, "John, is that you?"

When Ryan went outside to lock up the car, he saw a battered VW bug flash past, headed toward downtown, its tires singing on the asphalt. He crouched down against the wall and dropped his head in his hands. The smothering weight of shame mixed with love settled over him. After a few minutes, Ryan stood up, rubbed his hands over his face, and quietly went back inside.

AN: Part III coming soon.