used it and was a little sentimental about it. It made Gretchen’s insides melt. Telly would give the shirt off his back if she didn’t protect him.
“No, Telly!”
“Don’t argue with me.” He placed it in her palm. “Call a cab. I mean it, Gretchen. Don’t walk home.” He placed his finger on her lip and then his heart.
Gretchen whispered, “Thick and thin.” She kissed him good-night, waving as he left to walk the few blocks home alone.
CHAPTER SIX
T elly sighed, leaving her. He hated that place. She’d worked there before they met. After they got together, he had gotten her a position serving drinks in the high-roller section of the casino. She was a victim of the takeover, having lost her job as well. She told him he should be grateful Rob took her back. The tips were decent; she got to take home wings for them nightly; and it didn’t involve stripping. It wasn’t a bad gig, Gretchen insisted. “Believe me,” she told him. “I’ve had worse.” He loved her tough resilience. Gretchen was like prairie grass: strong and willing to adapt. His parents had balked in the beginning. She wasn’t what they expected for him—no career, no education, no family to speak of. He could do better, they complained. Pliable, moldable Telly stood resistant to his parents for the first time in his life. Their criticism fell on deaf ears, and when he finally told them in his quiet, reasonable way all the reasons he loved Gretchen, they gave in, only to fall under her delightful spell. Gretchen was magic as far as Telly was concerned, and he felt alive when he was with her.
A dog barked, the sound echoing on the deserted street. Telly felt a coldness dance down his spine. He paused to look around. Once, when he was young, he’d felt a weird kind of chill shake his body, and his father had told him someone was “walking on his grave.” Well, Telly thought as he made a slow 360-degree spin, someone’s break-dancing on it right now. He stopped, listening for something, and then concentrated on the shuffle of his footsteps. Left, right, left, right, left, left, right, right—he spun…someone was following him. The bleak street stared back at him, devoid of anything. Even the barking dog disappeared. It was silent. The air thickened. Telly strained his ears for any sound but heard nothing. He scanned the street and then picked up his pace with a skip. The additional steps picked up theirs as well. Soon Telly sprinted, the slap of his feet echoed by someone behind him. He faltered, falling to his knee and ripping his pants as he skinned it on the dirty pavement, his breaths coming in huge gulps. Digging his fingers into the blacktop, he rose, craning his neck frantically to look for the person following him. Sweat dripped down his face as he ran, his uneven footsteps echoed by the phantom pursuer. His escape was cut short when he felt a tug on his shirt. Spinning breathlessly, Telly raised his hand to whack someone but turned to the nothingness of the dank Vegas night. The stars mocked him, twinkling down, while he breathed hard, feeling scared and trapped. Telly gulped air, sweat running down his face. It was hot, even at night after the sun went down. The air was sultry, the streetlamps enveloped in a haze. The blare of sirens rent the evening. Shots were fired. The sounds of a Vegas evening back again. He listened to the tinny sound of music coming from a house down the block. The dog commenced its complaint, barking wildly, its pit-bull body hitting a chain-link fence with a resounding crash. Telly shuddered and took a deep, reassuring breath. There was no one there. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he looked around once more. A man wearing only his boxers and a pair of slippers moved his trash can into the street. They stared hard at each other. Telly raised his hand in a friendly salute. The other man ignored him and turned to head back into the buttery light of his front door. Telly watched him closely, the
“No, Telly!”
“Don’t argue with me.” He placed it in her palm. “Call a cab. I mean it, Gretchen. Don’t walk home.” He placed his finger on her lip and then his heart.
Gretchen whispered, “Thick and thin.” She kissed him good-night, waving as he left to walk the few blocks home alone.
CHAPTER SIX
T elly sighed, leaving her. He hated that place. She’d worked there before they met. After they got together, he had gotten her a position serving drinks in the high-roller section of the casino. She was a victim of the takeover, having lost her job as well. She told him he should be grateful Rob took her back. The tips were decent; she got to take home wings for them nightly; and it didn’t involve stripping. It wasn’t a bad gig, Gretchen insisted. “Believe me,” she told him. “I’ve had worse.” He loved her tough resilience. Gretchen was like prairie grass: strong and willing to adapt. His parents had balked in the beginning. She wasn’t what they expected for him—no career, no education, no family to speak of. He could do better, they complained. Pliable, moldable Telly stood resistant to his parents for the first time in his life. Their criticism fell on deaf ears, and when he finally told them in his quiet, reasonable way all the reasons he loved Gretchen, they gave in, only to fall under her delightful spell. Gretchen was magic as far as Telly was concerned, and he felt alive when he was with her.
A dog barked, the sound echoing on the deserted street. Telly felt a coldness dance down his spine. He paused to look around. Once, when he was young, he’d felt a weird kind of chill shake his body, and his father had told him someone was “walking on his grave.” Well, Telly thought as he made a slow 360-degree spin, someone’s break-dancing on it right now. He stopped, listening for something, and then concentrated on the shuffle of his footsteps. Left, right, left, right, left, left, right, right—he spun…someone was following him. The bleak street stared back at him, devoid of anything. Even the barking dog disappeared. It was silent. The air thickened. Telly strained his ears for any sound but heard nothing. He scanned the street and then picked up his pace with a skip. The additional steps picked up theirs as well. Soon Telly sprinted, the slap of his feet echoed by someone behind him. He faltered, falling to his knee and ripping his pants as he skinned it on the dirty pavement, his breaths coming in huge gulps. Digging his fingers into the blacktop, he rose, craning his neck frantically to look for the person following him. Sweat dripped down his face as he ran, his uneven footsteps echoed by the phantom pursuer. His escape was cut short when he felt a tug on his shirt. Spinning breathlessly, Telly raised his hand to whack someone but turned to the nothingness of the dank Vegas night. The stars mocked him, twinkling down, while he breathed hard, feeling scared and trapped. Telly gulped air, sweat running down his face. It was hot, even at night after the sun went down. The air was sultry, the streetlamps enveloped in a haze. The blare of sirens rent the evening. Shots were fired. The sounds of a Vegas evening back again. He listened to the tinny sound of music coming from a house down the block. The dog commenced its complaint, barking wildly, its pit-bull body hitting a chain-link fence with a resounding crash. Telly shuddered and took a deep, reassuring breath. There was no one there. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he looked around once more. A man wearing only his boxers and a pair of slippers moved his trash can into the street. They stared hard at each other. Telly raised his hand in a friendly salute. The other man ignored him and turned to head back into the buttery light of his front door. Telly watched him closely, the
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