13 Lives

by Michael Pawlowski

  Accordingly he challenged the situation where the general manager of the casino operations was not an elected member of the provincial government. That didn’t make sense based on Kevin’s understanding of politics. This also proved that Kevin tended to be naive with respect to political matters and commentary as more often than not he believed everything he was ever told. He had no idea if all that was ever rumoured about the manager was the truth, but it sounded good.

  Although he was mesmerized by “Krazee Koalas”, Kevin constantly looked over his shoulders to view the machines behind him. The mixed-sevens and the blazing-sevens were sure to pay a jackpot shortly. There were three attendants in the area. They wouldn’t be there unless one of them suspected there’d be a hand-paid jackpot. Casino life was like that. You couldn’t follow the money, but you could always spy the attendants.

  The old man to his right continued to annoy Kevin. It wasn’t cigarette smoke or body odour. The old guy just continued to play thirty lines times one coin. The denomination was a penny. It bothered Kevin even more that the senior citizen would be pleased with any payoff even less than a dime.

  Of course that would not have been an option before the slot machines started accepted bills and giving voucher slips. For years the player had to drop endless coins into a slot. That took time. Sixty dollars would easily last an hour. Now anyone could lose twenty dollars in a matter of minutes.

  Kevin dutifully used his player’s card. He never understood the reluctance of others to avoid it. Another person suggested the machines controlled who would get jackpots; as long as you had your player’s card in the slot, the machine knew if you had already won enough that day, week or month. The one ­benefit of using the card for Kevin was the free meals and the monthly hotel that kept his family on board.

  By the time he left the casino just after ten o’clock, Kevin had lost far more than he anticipated. There were only two bills left in his pocket. Everything he lost came from a credit card. He had five of them. Their use and even existence was discreet. The bills arrived at his business address.

  Kevin was self-employed as an automobile damage appraiser. Although he advertised vehicle repairs, he was well known within the community for his expertise involving other means of transportation: boats, skidoos, trailers, snow-mobiles and motorcycles. His business was well known also for his generous support to so many charities. His promotion involved at least fifteen charity golf tournaments. At least twice every month he was taking adjusters to lunch. He never believed too much in treating senior management, as it was the junior staff who decided which appraiser was the most efficient and available for their needs.

  The casino world was just his means of escape. He really didn’t have to run from anything. Business was great and the family life was even better.

  His spouse of fifteen years, Caren, was a very dear woman: always so diminutively enthusiastic. They had two children who were always well fed, excelled in school, and achieved significantly in sports.

  Caren had supported his decision to abandon a seemingly solid position with an insurance company where he had been its senior appraiser. There was also a junior estimator with only three years experience. Then management decided to drop a few brokers. With the reduction in business there would be fewer claims. Having quality insured persons, who didn’t get into accidents, meant substantially less work for the appraisers. With the differential in wages between the two employees doing the same job, he could very well be the one who was dispensable.

  Choosing to become a self-employed appraiser opened the door to still do the appraisals for all insurance companies who were stuck with poor drivers. Acquaintances in the legal profession also used his services for appraisals under the statutory appraisal condition of the Insurance Act. Kevin’s involvement in the dispute litigation process expanded his reputation significantly. He was at that time well regarded for his thoroughness and prompt reports.

  It was in the litigation process that this author first met Kevin. The case involved a contractor’s negligence that caused a fire damaging the stock and premises of several tenants.

  Kevin had been involved identifying the actual cash value and replacement cost of the fineries and stock of one of the ­merchants. Success was the result, and most participants in the mediation were pleased with the outcome. Some of us were returning home to various cities by train which unfortunately required us to wait for another couple of hours. Rather than sit in the train station we adjourned along with the adjusters and appraisers to the local drinking establishment. After supper, the young ladies commenced their show displaying their presence. In the course of the second performance a young lady stood near our table with her back to us. A gentleman in our group made a lascivious comment about her attributes and asked her to turn toward us. Immediately an adjuster in our group fainted and fell on the floor gasping. The topless young lady was his daughter. It’s hard to forget meeting people under those circumstances.

  Conversations between Kevin and the author continued after that, on and off for the next few years.

  There was little conversation upon his return home. The children were already in bed, fast asleep. They had talked excitedly all evening with their mother about the outing that was planned for the Monday. Kevin had no intention on that Easter Sunday, the seventh of April in 1996, that it would end this way. After eating early supper with his visiting sister-in-law he initially had not planned to spend the rest of that evening in a casino.

  Caren was seated on the couch, already in her nightgown. She didn’t say a word. Her anger was clearly intense. She wasn’t irate about his loss, because in reality she had been fed lies for the past two years. Every time he went, he reported winning a lot or losing minimal amounts. He always put food on the table and was a great dad in terms of time and activities with the children. She had heard so many times from her limited number of friends about what other men were like. Kevin was an angel compared to these.

  Her Ukrainian heritage taught her so many fundamentals of courtesy, dignity and sacrifice. Caren truly believed that she surrendered herself the moment she said, “I do.” Her commitment was total no matter the cost. In moments of anger, she rarely raised her voice. Silence was the best method to ponder the circumstances. Her children were exceptional. Her husband’s business was profitable. She should have been living the dream of a perfect family.

  Conversation flowed across the breakfast table the next morning. Laying wide awake all night, he had committed himself once more to never again entering another casino. That eased all stress. He had identified the dilemma and vowed that he had fixed the problem.

  Kevin’s parents were Algonquian, being devoted to the heritage and culture that made them so fundamentally important within their native community. He held a tribal card, but that had for many years been buried among redundant paperwork. Algonquian was in his past. He might refer to it someday, sometime, but for now there was no need of it.

  One of his clientele in a business conversation wildly suggested there were significant generic traits common to all natives. He somehow got to that conclusion after someone mentioned recent storm damage in a remote community. Kevin had to bite his lip and just listen. Alcohol, gambling and thievery were the common tendencies that person ascribed to each and every ­person within all of the indigenous communities. After that discussion Kevin tried earnestly to avoid that particular individual. Silence was perhaps better than allowing himself to vehemently reply to false insinuations. At the time, Kevin was still stricken by the news of his parents’ death. The legacy of such tragedies never died. He spoke rarely of the event. Hearing white men talk so disdainfully about aboriginals brought to life his many questions, thoughts, and dread. He was the surviving member of his family, but he never chose it to be that way.

  Kevin had met Caren in Winnipeg. They both belonged to the same Catholic community. Religion was one of the few aspects of life that gave him
hope. They moved to Windsor one year after their marriage. Kevin, with appropriate training, then established his expertise as an appraiser. They purchased a house within the first year of the move. Months later, Caren’s father was dead. Her mother passed away just two years after that. As neither Kevin nor Caren had surviving parents, they were very much the king and queen of their own realm. Everything so far had been a wonderful fairy tale.

  Easter Monday was spent with the family visiting Story Book Gardens in London. Caren’s sister joined them just to be with her nephews. Caren’s sister was always a welcome guest to share pleasant times. It was as expected a wonderful day with lots of rides and adventure. The meandering river was as expected the main attraction on a warm sunny afternoon.

  Kevin’s week was always scheduled, with little deviation. During the spring, summer and fall months, there’d be a golf game on a Wednesday or Thursday. From noon time on Friday to Monday morning all hours were devoted to the family. That left him basically three days per week at his business. Realizing there was true value in life away from the office, he hired an office manager. Two secretaries completed the staff. The workers were well paid and the profits continued to fill the safe.

  In autumn of 1996 he expanded the business, focussing on being a major parts supplier for foreign vehicles. That business prospered with so many car owners wishing to hold onto their present vehicles. That meant parts were essential, and he fulfilled that need.

  Weekdays were not wholly committed to work. There always had to be time for the casino. Late nights, at least twice per week were the norm. Caren never said anything. If she was mad, silence would be her response. The truth could always be disguised with erroneous information regarding the result of his gambling. That was more often than not the reality.

  The world and economics of the 1990s was not conducive to being thrifty and vigilant. The term ‘honesty’ had been replaced with everyone’s propensity to use the ambiguous term ‘transparency’. So it was for many lives, affecting many decisions, ­causing much folly. As long as it seemed to be the truth, then it was good for politicians, and unfortunately for families.

  The computer world was causing havoc. Personal users and businesses jumped on board or they were quickly left behind. Kevin was astute enough to purchase the most current apparatus even if it meant having to replace equipment at least every year. Kevin felt very prepared for any unfortunate business situation. He had ever increasing profits, and repeatedly told himself, “a wonderful supportive family.”

  The demise did not happen radically. It was an ongoing situation that had started years before. With the increased use of computers many businesses and industries were concerned about checks and balances. The one that most affected Kevin was the decision of the insurance industry that any appraiser had to avoid participating in any salvage or parts firm. Clearly the insurance companies wanted to avoid a situation where an appraiser was falsifying a total loss assessment for his own personal gain. For Kevin, that had never happened. However, someone in the provincial capital thought it could.

  He sold the parts business before the end of the year, yet discreetly remained involved. He had a win-fall of cash, with no specific plan for its use. Splitting the proceeds would be a benefit, so he allowed Caren to assume half of the profit.

  It was just weeks before Christmas that Kevin, perhaps for the first time, identified his plight. Seven credit cards in excess of ten thousand dollars each were all maxed. His line of credit was gone. Not being able to speak with the banks over the Yuletide holiday caused significant consternation. He was clearly not happy throughout the holiday season.

  1996 ended with sudden worries. He pledged to address those as soon as possible. Meanwhile he started cursing past decisions. Throughout that entire year, his casino losses surpassed his annual income. Strangely, he started thinking of his Algonquian heritage as if he was searching for a scapegoat.

  One of the banks started his spiral into the abyss. Somehow, two of the credit card companies had, as their guarantee, the mortgage on his house. After missing minimum payments for several months, the amount owing on five cards was ascribed as a mortgage on the house.

  Fortunately, he was able to make the mortgage payment every month, but with some difficulty. However, it required him to acquire another line of credit. He was losing ground fast. In those weeks and months he cursed his native heritage, clearly blaming his aboriginal ancestry for his gambling compulsion.

  Kevin then struggled for months, barely succeeding. Caren remained happy, for she knew nothing of the circumstances. Her ignorance was inversely proportional to the pills Kevin required to function daily.

  Profits continued their slithery slide down the frosty incline. As the insurance industry approached the millennium, the concern about expenses more than doubled. Drive-In Appraisal ­services were being established in every major city to control the cost of auto repairs. Preferred shops limited the involvement of independent appraisal firms. Cost controls hit every aspect of the industry.

  Then Free Trade entered the picture. As soon as the federal government signed the NAFTA agreement, parts could be obtained cheaper elsewhere. The effect was devastating.

  Caren discovered the mortgage situation with receipt of the semi-annual bank statement in mid 1997. Their vocal exchange echoed beyond the walls of their living room, making the children squirm with all of their imaginary fears. Kevin swore it must be a mistake and that he would attend the bank to correct the situation. Her anxiety was not abated. Something was clearly wrong.

  Kevin experienced a radical monetary up-swing in the latter weeks of that year. The wintery weather and three blizzards were beneficial for business. At the same time, jackpots exceeding thirteen thousand dollars helped the situation. To ensure that Caren would no longer be bothered by any bank statement, he had those directed to a mailbox at the local post office.

  With the spring of 1998, Kevin once again pledged to himself to change his ways and avoid the casino. Regardless of his good intentions he failed to fill the void in time with something constructive. Caren suggested he become an assistant coach for their older son’s soccer team. That was their boy’s favourite sport. He seemed all gung-ho, but Kevin’s commitment never existed. Anger again brewed between husband and wife.

  Kevin’s ability to fight temptation remained pathetic. On one trip to inspect a damaged vehicle, he travelled past the casino. His car then automatically turned into the parking lot. His gambling loss was substantial. Equally so, he failed to make it to the scheduled appointment and lost that client’s business.

  At no time did he ever contemplate God’s potential involvement in the cause, control or resolution of his gambling problem. After their move to Windsor, attendance at religious services was less than it had been, but they still believed. At the same time, Kevin perceived a world where he was in total control. This meant dismissing his heritage, and believing that nothing in his past determined his fate. He clearly did not have a specific goal or workable means. That was proving to be havoc. The one philosophical-biblical passage that could have helped him, he didn’t even bother to consider.

  When an evil spirit leaves a person, it travels over dry lands looking for a place to rest. When it can’t find one,

  it says to itself, “I will return.” So it goes back and finds

  the entire house swept clean. Then it invites seven other spirits even worse than itself. They all entered and lived there; so that the person became worse than he was in the beginning. (Luke 11:24)

  “Religion is for wimps,” he had said on several occasions, even though he may not have meant it. The one inspirational means that could have saved him was abandoned. Similarly, he had no intention to ever surrender himself to the any ‘Gamblers Anonymous’ organization. After all, he wasn’t about to publicly admit he had a problem. As long as he could hide the consequences, there was no problem.

  Just befo
re the summer of 1998, the author met again with Kevin. It was quite by accident. Under those circumstances, conversations generally are more likely to ensue. Even though the gambler had willingly admitted a problem to myself, he would not pursue the recommended treatment. It was discovered later that Kevin had similar discussions with other associates, and on each occasion rejected the recommendation for counselling. It may have been that he was just searching for anyone that would support him—perhaps telling him that he didn’t have a problem. He had chosen to be his own doctor and patient, and was failing pathetically in both roles.

  Anxiety passed with the family trip to Florida that summer. Although it was hot, it was a most delightful time. Epcot and Walt Disney World were of course the main attractions. Driving both ways didn’t bother him. Kevin and Caren had a propensity for exploring small towns and enjoying the culture offered by the Atlantic states. That ensured that every family trip had wonderful memories.

  After Labour Day, Kevin returned to hell. He had to win big in order to recoup his losses. Accordingly, incidents at the casino became even more damning. He’d leave a machine, and minutes later it would pay a jackpot. If he had a choice of two machines, he’d choose the wrong one. He was never one for poker. Kevin tried blackjack and the losses were monumental. He played craps, and similarly the loss was immeasurable. Four credit cards, each with more than ten thousand maximum limit, were acquired based on his lies to the financial companies. That was quite easy. He went to four sporting events, and left with a t-shirt on each occasion after filling out a credit card application. He was always borrowing from one card to make the minimum payment on another. As long as no one called, the bills were concealed and minimum payments made everything copacetic.

  The amorous life between Kevin and Caren remained active. They had pledged to have no more children and accordingly took the appropriate precautions.