This story reads like an outtake from a Paul Thomas Anderson movie, or a story I can imagine being told to me in a bar, like the one I sat in while my now dead uncle played black jack with a man whose car had broken down, conveniently for my uncle, right outside the road side casino we were holed up in. They played cards until the man waiting for the tow truck ran out of money.
Ms. Willis delivers two more characters into the world she’s created, a place where you’re not only forgotten about, but have no real presence. Tom has lost his wife to grave illness, and he spends his days at the local casino where he meets a dealer and they begin a relationship, well, in Tom’s mind they do, but in reality, who really cares very much about the next person, especially if you don’t know them. What makes them special? Or what makes you special? Ms. Willis tells us that you’re nothing but a person breathing air, walking around, and for the most part forgotten about, even if you’re doing something ordinary.
I love the little moment at the end of the story where Tom has realized that he’s just another schmuck, a guy who lost his money at the casino to a woman who is employed to take that money, and he knows he’s been had. That’s great, right there, when you know you’ve had your pants pulled down and were just too stupid to see it. The noise of life vanishes in these pages; it’s almost as if Tom and the croupier do nothing more than an interpretive dance while the rest of the population goes about their business. Who cares if his wife died? Who cares if the woman (she has two names, maybe more) played a trick on you, tough shit. Whatever you do, don’t stop reading these stories. -JR
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