No Dice
Frank felt the pressure imploding him from the inside out. Why wouldn't these children go to sleep? He rocked them back and forth, singing in an increasingly desperate voice. "Sleepy girl, sleepy girl, why won't you go to sleep? Sleepy girl, sleepy girl, you're keeping me up!" he sang, his voice laced with frustration and sleep-deprivation.
The girls cried louder, hearing his less than talented singing, and even less pleasant song. The more they cried, the more he felt compelled to hit the casinos. Ever since Lily had chased him out of the house for infidelity, he had been pouring every dollar and dime he owned into card games. To him it was the most effective way of taking the edge off missing Lily.
Now that he was back in the game, slowing foraging his way back into Lily's good books, he yearned for the plastic chips and paper cards more than ever. With two eternally screaming babies in tow, long sleepless nights, and the financial burden of two new mouths to feed, Frank's gambling obsession grew like a cancer of the mind. His unhealthy thoughts multiplied like sewer rats.
What if I win big? I'd pay off the mortgage. I'd buy an eternal stock of diapers, baby formula; I'd get life insurance, health insurance, save up for the girls' college fund. I'd shower my wife with presents so she'd forgive my transgressions. And most of all, I would hire a nanny, so I could get some sleep.
Now, we all know life doesn't work out that way. When you gamble the odds are 50/50 at best, and given Frank's burst of poor luck, the odds were not in his favour. He'd sneak out to the casino whenever Lily and the kids were asleep, and climb quietly back into bed at 5 am, with an empty pocket, and aching desire to make up for the cash he'd just lost.
Whenever he fell into a shallow restless sleep, he'd dream of gathering a bundle of fresh green notes into his hot little hands, and pasting them like bandaids, all over the gaping oozing wounds of his life. Little did he know that his addiction would eventually push his wife over the edge, leaving one daughter in a string of foster homes; and the other, out on the streets with nothing but a Science Boy comic book to keep her warm at night. How? How? How?
Well, it began when Frank's gambling became so extensive, that he received an eviction notice in the mail, which he hastily hid from his wife. The shit hit the fan when their phone, electricity and water supply was cut off. Eventually things got so drastic that the family moved into a homeless shelter, and struggled even to afford baby formula and diapers. It was at that moment Frank felt compelled to turn to crime to save his family.
What kind of crimes? I hear you ask. Well, crimes of the Borrow-from-loansharks, and Extort-you-out-of-your-lifesavings variety. Loansharks and Extortion? Never good news. But, more on that later.