DIVINE CHILD
Evil vs. the Angels of Stony Island
by Jim Heaney

“Do you just like to watch, or do you play?” I looked over my shoulder. The blond blackjack dealer smiled back at me.
“I’m here for a wedding and also to play,” I said. “Joey Drazik’s wedding?”
“you know Drazik?”
“everyone knows Joey. He’s partying in the bar right now. I just got off work; you want to walk in together? He’d get a kick out of that.”
“So he would. What’s your name?”
“Pleasure.”
She was irritated when I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” “Nothing. It’s a beautiful name. I’m Jim Heaney. The pleasure is all mine, Pleasure.”
“We’ll see,” she said. I was beginning to think the future—the immediate future, anyway—held some promise. As soon as we walked into the bar, it erupted in cheering, followed by hugs all around.
“I see you’ve met Pleasure,” Drazik said. “you must have been playing already.”
“He played one hand and took a thousand off me,” Pleasure pouted. She slipped her hand into a pocket on her dress and
pulled out a deck of red playing cards. She leaned up against me and shuffled the deck. “you want a private game, honey?”
“Whew!” Drazik yelled. “It’s sizzling in here, but be careful, Pleasure. Jim’s got game. He’s from the Island in Chicago.” He paused.
“Man, I miss Stony, man.” A drop of blood fell from a nostril and sank into his shirt. I pretended I hadn’t noticed it.
“Jim my man, vegas is crazy, but I’m getting married. I’m so glad you came.” He was panting and his eyes were all teary.
“I’m getting married.” We slapped five on each other.
“What can I get you? We’ve got chrystal, crystal meth, plus the usual. Pleasure, hook him up.” “Um, Joey, listen. I’m going to my room to eat and take a nap. I’ll see you in about two hours.”
“We’ll be here!” he replied. “Don’t looked so sad,” Pleasure said in a low voice. “Let’s make fun!” Drazik’s eyebrows rose. “See you in two hours,” I said, and smiled to show her I was just tired, really, not sad at all. As I walked out of the bar, I saw Drazik and Pleasure in a huddle. When I opened the door to my room, the envelope corner dropped to the floor. I left the
“Do Not Disturb” sign on the out- side doorknob and moved the envelope corner to the inside of the doorjamb. I then called room service for a cheeseburger, and got into the shower. As the water drained down my forehead, I thought about Maria and felt lost all over again. I wondered why I was in vegas and why I thought Drazik’s wedding would be a fun time. And I wondered why I’d turned down the chance to get high on quality recreational drugs. No one was looking, no one cared what I did. Then, over the shower noise, I heard a soft click.
I stepped out of the shower and peeked out the bathroom door. On the carpet in front of the door was the telltale white triangle of the envelope corner. Slipping on the robe the hotel provided, I moved to the corridor between bath and bedroom and flipped off the light switch. I then pounced to middle of the bedroom to surprise my invader.
“That was cute,” a woman’s voice said. After some fumbling, Pleasure found the nightstand light and flicked it on. She plumped up two pillows and then leaned back on them. She had changed her clothes and now wore a purple lace nightie, stockings and a garter belt, and black knee-length high-heeled boots. She arched her body toward me.
“How did you get in here?” I demanded. She answered a different question.
“Joey wants you to enjoy yourself.” She reached over to the bedside table, lifted the ash tray and placed it in the bed at her side. She fished out a glass pipe and placed a little white rock of chrystal on the top, lifted it to her mouth and lit the end with a green lighter. She inhaled deeply and exhaled a long cloud of white smoke. She quickly laid the pipe and ashtray back on the table and started writhing on the bed, feeling her breasts and patting her pelvic area. She reached out for me.

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