by Thom J Poore
Chapter 3: Casino Tropicana
The cyan glass panels of Lima airport reflect the clouds, hanging heavy in the humid atmosphere. Between the sky and the surrounding mountains the city's pollution problem is held perfectly in place. Four wide roads stretch away from the airport, carrying passengers to and from the flight centre. Emilio and Karl have hardly placed their suitcases on the tarmac before a yellow taxi springs from nowhere, as if it were preying on the morsels of life that spill from the thriving airport. Through a cloud of fumes the head of the driver appears, beaming.
“Gentlemen, greatest taxi in all of Peru here to help!”
Emilio looks at Karl, with ‘what a character’ written onto his face, and instantly makes friendly contact.
“That’s great, do you know the Hotel Tropicana?”
“Ahh yes, I know it well! I hear the drinks are free!” Quotes the driver, hoping for a reaction.
“Oh yeah! Fun and sunshine, apparently there’s enough for everyone!” Says Emilio jovially, realizing the song lyrics.
The driver jumps out, opens the boot and throws their luggage in, without a thought for any valuable items that could be inside. The boys tumble onto the uncomfortable worn rear seat of the taxi, and the driver cautiously starts to navigate them toward their destination. Turning to glance at the boys in the back, he proudly presents his customized taxi information card from his messy dashboard. He hands the card to the boys via a letterbox cut-out in the cheap plexiglass partition.
“Now listen! You boys are new here, and I can tell we’re best friends already, so! Here is my personal number, you need to go anywhere you call Carlos and I will be there before you blink. I know Lima like the back of my hand! I have lived here all my life. I know the good from the very bad. I am the only taxi driver you can trust.”
Emilio reaches out with a friendly smile to take the card and then turns his attention to the otherworldly surroundings, which Karl is already fixated with. The streets of Lima are a constant eye opener for Emilio, who is shocked to see dangerously unmaintained buses and cars. The chaotic traffic they have slipped amongst seems to have no lane sense, but despite all the unruly vehicles, the streets have some of the best traffic lights and road markings he has ever seen. Drifting back to what Carlos was saying Emilio gives his delayed response.
“That’s great Carlos, we don’t know much about this place, it’s really good of you to offer your services like that.”
Karl is gripping the internal door handle tightly. The jerky, disjointed motion of the cab swerving through uncoordinated traffic makes him feel on edge and uneasy. Emilio is excited and thrilled by the same experience. He is almost disappointed as they pull up outside their destination from the sheer eye-opening delight of the journey. Carlos lets out a fake cough into his fist as he prepares to ask for his fee.
“That will be 25 sole please, kind men! You have arrived safe, as promised”
“Here you go Carlos buddy, keep the change.”
Emilio passes 50 sole through the scratched Perspex window, double the fare: a generous and spontaneous gesture, born out of the excitement of the moment. As Carlos receives the offering he reacts with unrestrained delight.
“Yes! Yes! If you need anything, anything at all, you call Carlos! All other taxi driver’s rip you off! I tell you what, as extra special service I will base myself around here for a while just to make sure you get best possible taxi.”
Emilio hauls himself off the back seat, and leans in through the front window, smiling.
“It’s a gesture of good will, Carlos.”
“Of course, of course, kind gentleman.”
Carlos fetches their luggage and bids them farewell, bowing several times, before heading off to find more seemingly rich tourists. They boys stand at the bottom of a steep flight of stone steps, which are draped in a deep red carpet. They look up with jaws gaping at the scale of the mile-high skyscraper. The Hotel and Casino Tropicana sign is lit up in bright red italics. The sign stands regally above tinted black glass revolving doors.
“This place is epic.” Gasps Karl.
“Yeah, my dad has stayed here a few times, he booked it for us. I must admit I didn’t realize it would be quite so upmarket.”
“It reminds me of the time I went to Las Vegas and partied hard.”
“Karl, you went with your mum and stepdad! And knowing your mum, she wouldn’t have let you out of her sight.”
“You're just jealous because you’ve never been.”
“No, I’m just looking out for you buddy. I don’t want to see you walking around under this veil of delusion your whole life. Come on, Karl, come and join me in reality. Let's go and check this place out.”
They grab their luggage and walk up the steps. Emilio playfully spins around in the revolving doors three times, before continuing on into the white marble of the grand Art Deco foyer. Awestruck, they step past perfect, lush-green indoor palms. As the boys approach the reception desk they are addressed graciously by a beautiful brunette, dressed in a smart dark gray suit with a gold name badge, spelling Carina. She smiles widely.
“Welcome to the Hotel and Casino Tropicana, do you have a reservation?”
Karl’s jaw drops to another level as he is instantly smitten, and can only muster a faint mutter from under his breath
“I have no reservations about you.”
Carina looks puzzled.
“Did you say you have no reservation?”
Emilio displays his annoyance by nudging Karl firmly with the outside of his forearm, the nudge doubling as a signal, warning Karl to keep his trap shut and act cool.
“Ignore him, he’s got sunstroke. We have a reservation under the name Winters.”
Carina delicately taps the name into the unseen computer behind the desk.
“Ah yes, I think this is it. I just need some form of I.D and a valid credit card.”
Emilio hands over an American Express card and both passports.
“Excellent. You are staying in room 157, the deluxe suite, two single beds have been set up as requested”.
“Wait a minute, one room, two beds, what happened to all that talk of our own rooms, Emilio?”
Emilio sighs, realizing his dad’s intervention.
“Look, dad’s paying for all this on one condition - his rules. He just wants us to stick together, that’s all. We're also not supposed to deviate from the tourist excursions, but what he doesn’t know won't hurt him. Come on Karl, lighten up, we could never afford this on our own, we should think ourselves lucky, especially you, Karl. Didn’t your mum once sell her dog to get your dad’s car fixed?”
Frustrated and embarrassed, Karl picks up his luggage and storms off, shouting “That’s not true Emilio, why do you always have to bring that up? I’m getting sick of it.”
Carina hands over the room key and casino ID cards with a smile, trying to remain professional and not laugh at the outburst.
“Here’s your keys and your casino ID’s. You’ll need these to buy drinks and play at the casino tables. At the back of the casino are the elevators that will take you up to your room. You can't miss them.”
Emilio takes the items, thanks Carina and casually walks off after Karl. He quickly catches up with his friend, who stands in the archway at the entrance of the casino. The boys look on, impressed at the detail of the distinguished casino. They marvel at the vast hall laden with green velvet, craps, baccarat and poker tables, and sparkling roulette wheels. Massive diamond chandeliers cast sharp silhouettes. The tables are bustling with smartly dressed people. As the boys make their way through the hall, they pass a tall, debonair man with a black pinstripe suit and a large black suitcase chained to his wrist. He walks through the casino to a door leading into the cashier's cage at the far side of the large hall.
“Man, I wonder how much money is in that
suitcase? Emilio, this is so cool, what’s the legal age for gambling here?”
“Well, Karl, as I told you about million times back home, in Peru it’s eighteen, same as it is for buying alcohol.”
“Hallelujah, we can buy some beers and throw some dice all under the same roof.”
“Yep, we sure can. Right, let’s get to our room, get showered, get changed, then get down here to the bar, load up with some cocktails and head for the snake eyes tables to shoot some dice, what’ya say, partner?”
“I say you’re a fucking genius with a master plan! Let’s do it!”
They head for the elevators at the back of the casino and wait impatiently for the silver doors to slide open. A tall woman is standing inside, looking every minute of her 57 years old in her blond wig, sparkling blue sequin dress and a face full of slap.
“Well, ain't you two boys just divine” She drawls in a strong southern accent as she steps out of the elevator, turning to look back at the boys, watching them lustfully until the doors shut. They stand in silence for a moment as the elevator sleekly begins to move upwards, until Emilio pulls an awkward expression.
“That was weird!”
“I think she was kinda hot!” Remarks Karl softly.
“She was like 70 years old, Karl! Man, we got to get you laid, and not with somebody’s grandma!”
“Don’t be an ass-wipe, she looked good for her age.”
“She was creepy, man! Her eyes were mascara and vengeance.”
The pristine lift smoothly opens on the 5th floor. As they exit, a silver engraved sign points them toward rooms 150 to 200.
“We're in room 157, Karl, looks like it’s down this way.”
They walk a stone’s throw down the corridor, passing signed pictures of Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis, Harrison Ford, Barbara Streisand and Goldie Hawn.
“Man, these pictures are cool.” Karl stops to admire the framed photos.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Harrison Ford. He used to play James Bond, and I think Goldie Hawn was in Star Wars!” Says Emilio.
“What are you talking about, Emilio? Harrison Ford was never James Bond, he was Indiana Jones, and he also played Han Solo in Star Wars, which Goldie Hawn was never in!” Explains Karl indignantly.
“Ok, so you spend more time sitting on your ass watching movies than I do, so what!” Emilio shrugs.
Karl feels victorious, having finally put Emilio right on one of the rare subjects he actually knows more about.
They enter room 157 and see a smart black mini bar next to black marble kitchen work surfaces. At the other end of the room are two black leather reclining armchairs in front of a plush black entertainment unit with a 60” flat screen TV.
Karl’s face lights up as if he’s just set eyes on a cluster of presents on Christmas morning.
“Oh my God! This room is off the hook! It's the greatest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
“And there you were feeling sorry for yourself in the foyer! Dad’s really pulled out all the stops this time.” Remarks Emilio smugly.
“Your dad must be rich, dude.”
“Well, he’s no millionaire, Karl, although he has done well for himself for sure, but I think this is the hotel his company uses when they do business in South America, and I remember him saying he was owed a few favours.”
“Look! The mini bar’s loaded!”
“They're expensive though, Karl, so we got to go easy. It’s all getting charged to that American Express card, and dad expects us to only use it in case of emergencies, so we have to be sensible with it! But I’m pretty sure a couple of small ones won’t hurt, so let’s see what we got”.
Emilio looks into the smartly lit glass mini bar and pulls out two miniature bottles of bourbon and a can of coke.
“How about a bit of Dutch courage before we head downstairs, bruv.”
“I’ve never had Dutch courage before, but I’ll try it.” Says Karl, grinning slyly at Emilio, knowing full well what his buddy meant. Emilio laughs, spotting Karl’s grin, as he was about to roll his eyes at Karl’s airhead remark. Emilio prepares the drinks, and Karl raises his glass as it’s handed to him, excitedly making a toast.
“To the two most excellent amigos and the greatest holiday of all time.”
Emilio laughs as he clinks his glass with Karl’s, and then shouts out loud toward the ceiling.
“To excellent amigos! Right, lets get our best garms on and get downstairs to test our nerve.”
They down their drinks and Karl quickly turns away from Emilio to hide his disgust for the strong liquor. As he stands with his back turned he puffs his chest out whilst slamming his glass down on the kitchenette counter, trying to act as manly as possible.
“Nothing like a nice strong hit of whiskey to get the blood pumping.”
Emilio walks into the bedroom and throws his suitcase on one of the two perfectly made single beds.
“I’m taking a shower now, so don’t fucking come in here for ten minutes.”
“I’m gonna use the sink in here, anyway!” Yells Karl, looking around in awe at the modern kitchenette.
“You can’t clean your sweaty ass in that sink, Karl.”
“Are you kidding me, this sink is bigger and cleaner than our bath back home!”
The boys wash and change into their smartest clothes. Karl was feeling good in his grey chinos and black Ralph Lauren shirt, until Emilio emerges from the bedroom in a dark grey suit.
“Man, you make me look shit wearing that suit, brother. You always have to outdo me, don’t you?” Karl throws his towel down onto the floor in frustration.
“Not at all! It’s the only suit I own! I had to get it for my uncle’s wedding last fall and I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to wear it again, and what better place to wear it than at a cool casino.”
Emilio assumes various poses, checking himself out from every angle in the long horizontal wall mirror.
“Let's go, man! I’m feeling lucky tonight.”
As Emilio is fine tuning his appearance in the mirror Karl picks up a magazine from the kitchenette worktop. Emilio has scrawled the words ‘Manesh - Iquitos Medical Research Institute’ on a yellow post-it note and stuck it to the cover, partially obscuring the title. Karl flips up the note, revealing the words ‘Medical Research of the Amazon’. He flicks through the pages without any particular interest, and drops the magazine back down on the worktop before joining his friend, who is now standing by the door, impatient to leave. Emilio opens the door for Karl and ushers him through. Making last minute adjustments to their hair in the glass of the signed photographs, they stroll towards the elevators. As they get close, the doors open, revealing a massive, sweaty, unshaven man with a leather waistcoat and cap. The grotesque figure limps awkwardly towards them, not leaving much room either side for them to pass. Walk inline, Emilio and Karl brush the wall as they try to avoid contact with the mammoth figure. As they enter the lift Karl looks back, nosily spying on the man as he enters room 156, the room next to theirs.
“You see the size of that guy, Emilio?”
“It was pretty hard not to!”
“It makes you wonder why they let him in here! He stank.”
“So did we when we arrived. He must have paid his way, just like the rest of us.”
As they enter the casino Emilio heads straight for the bar. The snobby congregation of well-to-do hotel guests fall silent as the boys move between them to place their order.
“Two of your finest margaritas please, brother.” Emilio addresses the bartender.
“Two of your finest IDs then, gentleman.” Sniggers Samuel, shovelling ice from a gold bucket into a cocktail shaker.
The inquisitive spectators look down their noses and laugh. Emilio, unembarrassed, clicks his fingers at Karl, keeping eye c
ontact with the bartender and ignoring the insulting laughter. Karl pulls both casino IDs out of his back pocket and places them in Emilio’s open palm. Emilio pushes the IDs across the bar, and smoothly informs the man.
“We're residents, just like the rest of these people.” He raises his voice a little, to make sure the bystanders can hear. “And we have a good line of credit.”
The bartender checks the IDs, nods with admiration at the manner in which the boys have conducted themselves and begins to mix their drinks.
“We have to ask new faces for IDs, and even then people try forging these things all the time, as this is an extremely exclusive hotel.” The bartender’s tone slips easily from brazen rudeness to servile friendliness.
“Nature of the business, I guess.” Replies Emilio.
“I’ve seen it all!” The bartender smiles, “Here are your drinks! Have fun, gentlemen!”
Turning from the bar and leaning back on it confidently, Emilio looks directly at the arrogant group of eavesdroppers. He waits for eye contact and then raises his glass in a mocking toast, completely unfazed. The group give a disgusted look and turn away quickly, laughing at an in-joke, probably aimed at the boys. Looking out across the casino, margarita in hand, Emilio lets out a sigh of relief.
“This is the life, Karl! Awesome casino, beautiful women, ice cold cocktails, I could really get used to this.”
“Yeah, but those people seemed kinda rude.”
“Don’t worry about them, they’re probably so rich that they’ve lost touch with reality.”
Karl nods his head in agreement whilst holding his cocktail up to the chandelier light, admiring and checking the margarita’s quality, trying to be a connoisseur.
“Yeah, this is pretty cool.”
“Right, I’ve got $200 cash. I’m thinking I’ll use half of it for drinks and the other half to try my luck. How much you got, Karl?”
Karl opens his wallet and counts the notes. “I got $58, and it’s all for drinks.”
“Come on, Karl, we’re in a casino, you gotta do some gambling. Look, I’ll buy you a few drinks and you never know, you could treble up with your $58 dollars.”
“Well, as long as you get me a few, I guess I could stake some of my money.”
“That’s the spirit! Now what game you into, what have you played before? Whoa, Karl, check the two hot brunettes over there at that baccarat table!”
“Yeah, those girls are hot, but I got no idea how to play baccarat. How about roulette? How hard can it be? I mean you pick a number or a colour or something.”
“Yeah, you can place bets on a single number or a range of numbers, and then red, black, odd or even.”
Karl starts walking off toward the roulette table, with Emilio in tow. Leaning against the immaculate varnished table Karl garners the attention of the roulette croupier.
“I’ll take $5 on red.”
The two hot brunettes from the baccarat table walk over to the roulette wheel in an attempt to change their previous bad luck. The croupier, not hearing Karl’s mumbles, double checks what he said.
“Was that $5, sir?”
The two brunettes are watching Karl, waiting for their turn. Karl, ashamed of his meagre bet, and in an attempt to impress the girls, replies dishonestly.
“Five dollars! No way man, I play in Las Vegas, over there we bet fifty dollars minimum!”
“So that’s a fifty dollar stake then, sir.” Says the unconvinced croupier.
“Fifty dollars, absolute minimum.” Says Karl firmly as he glances across at the girls and pulls a face of discontent at the croupier. Emilio is revelling in the moment, loving his friend’s outlandish act. He downs the rest of his cocktail, anticipating the outcome. The croupier spins the wheel clockwise and releases the small white ball. Karl’s outward arrogance and confidence cover his silent prayers. ‘Just this one time, God, please make me look cool, please, I couldn’t take the shame.’ The ball winds quickly around the static outer rim of the spinning roulette wheel. As it begins to slow it pings anxiously between the sparkling silver ridges. All eyes are fixed on the ball as it dances around the wheel, before nestling into the black number 12 slot as the wheel gently grinds to a stand still. Karl slams both of his hands on the table unable to keep his cool and shouts.
“Fuck’s sake! Fifty fucking dollars! For God’s sake! Shit!”
Emilio turns away, almost choking through laughing so hard at his friend’s misfortune. The girls, seeing Emilio’s reaction, become infected with laughter, and even the croupier gives an unprofessional smirk at Karl’s ill-fated bravado. Karl circles round to Emilio, head-in-hands, smiling after calming down and seeing the funny side of it all.
“So what now? I got eight dollars left!” He exclaims.
“Right, take your last eight dollars and get us some drinks, I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night, ok?”
“It’s a deal! What drink do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“God, I hate it when people say that, they always end up disappointed.”
“You could never disappoint me, Karl.”
“Ahh shucks.”
“Because I already know your gonna fuck it up.” Says Emilio with a wink. He actually has ultimate faith in his trusty sidekick. “Look, I think our best chance of making any real money tonight lies at the poker table. You know I play a lot online and I generally win more than I lose. So! You get the drinks and I’ll meet you over at the poker table.”