Let the chips fall where they may (Five minutes freewrite)

marie-jay (61)in #freewrite • 6 years ago (edited)

The guy in the red cap had become a familiar presence and, even though he wasn't exactly friendly, the staff liked him. He never gave anyone no trouble and since he never won large sums of money not even the security manager could do anything, except keep an eye on him.
Most days he'd settle on Miriam's table and play for an hour or two, carefully stacking his winnings in front of him until he got some two thousands dollars. He was a decent player and sometimes a small crowd would assemble around his chair, urging him on when he was on a winning streak, but he was never greedy. When he'd reached his goal, the man would stand up and take his leave with a little smile, sometimes a wink to the lovely Miriam, and head to the door, not before cashing his chips, that is.
From time to time, he'd arrive in a bad mood, his red cap pulled as far down as it would go, but there was no way of concealing his ashen face and the dark circles under his eyes. On such days he'd stop at the slots machines, selecting the more isolated one, hiding in some corner where he could play undisturbed, a large cup of coffee right beside him. There was no method to his game, he did not wait until the machine would eventually spit out a lot of coins. He did not seem to even watch the display - he just pulled the lever down until his arm started to hurt and than he'd leave even if he'd barely made fifty bucks.

In November he didn't come for two straight weeks and they assumed he'd moved out of Vegas, heading to whatever place he called home. However, one day he showed up and, had it not been for the red cap, they would not have recognized him - he looked frail, his cheeks all hollowed in and he shuffled his feet, stopping every now and then to catch his breath. He was not alone this time. With him came another man, slightly older, who watched his every move with considerable worry. He wanted to go inside, but the man in the red cap muttered something to him in a very low voice and headed for Miriam's table alone. The other gentleman sat in the restaurant with a cup of coffee in front of him, going from time to time to the door to check on the other man, who was apparently having a great day. So great that the security manager came down to see what was going on. He went straight to the guy in the restaurant, introduced himself with an affable smile, yet making it clear he was not a guy you should be fooling around with. The older gentleman started talking in an urgent pleading voice. The man in the red cap was his brother and he was terminally ill, which was quite obvious if you looked at him. 'Surely you can see he is not at all well!' he said. It had always been his dream to go Vegas after his retirement and live the good life. Stay in a nice hotel with free booze and have fun at the tables. But now that was not going to happen so he was making the most of the time he had left. No treatment, no hospital for as long as he could avoid it. Just the good life. The security manager was still suspicious, what did he do with the money after all.
'Sometimes he gives it to people in need, but most of the time he leaves small sums in random places - tucked on a shelf at the supermarket, on a bench in the park, in the grass, on a seat of the bus. He calls them random acts of kindness and he believes at least some of the people who find the money will offer a prayer for him, bless his soul or something like that. He's determined to do that for as long as he can'.
The man in the red cap came to the casino almost every day till the next spring, sometimes alone, but mostly with his brother. Now that his story was known to everybody, the staff greeted him affectionately, helped him steady himself when he stood up to leave and once Miriam slipped him a joint, telling him it will help him feel better.
One day he didn't show up and they waited for him nervously the next day, but the good life was over for the man in the red cap.