"YOUR SON IS GOING TO COME BACK WITH HERPES!" Pedro has always had the tendency of revealing too much information to my mother. My face turned three shades of red. I looked at my mom, expecting to see her mouth agape. She just smiled and gave a disapproving shake of her head. She tries so hard to be the cool mom, though sometimes I wish she didn't. And maybe Pedro wouldn't tell her everything. I was in Vegas with my family, and Rodrigo and Pedro were there. They had tagged along on our family vacation because they were (and one of them still is) like family. The three of us were going out trolling for pussy.
"Remember guys, we're not supposed to be down there. If they catch us they will send us back here." I nodded at our floor.
"Where did you hear that bullshit rule?"
"Yeah, you're just making stuff up, Saul," Rodrigo added.
"Yeah, you're right." I rolled my eyes.
I held my breath, speed rolling through the casino floor. At one point, a security guard saw us. I looked him in the eye, smiled, gave him a friendly nod and kept going. I gave a sigh of relief as I wheeled through the casino doors. I looked around me, amazed at all neon lights, even though I had been there several times.
"Where do you guys want to go?" Rodrigo asked.
"I don't know. Caesars'?" Pedro had never been to Vegas. He only knew some of the hotels.
"Caesars' is for old people. Lets go to the Mirage. Remember Lety (my mom) said there was a cool nightclub there?" Rodrigo reminded him.
Great. These assholes choose the hotel five blocks from here in THIS fucking weather. It's 20 fucking degrees out here. I'm going to freeze to death, I thought.
As I wove through the maze of old Asian ladies, drunken people and stupid people, I started to feel a sharp pain on my driving hand. It was like a thousand needles stabbing me, but I ignored it thinking I could power through it. Then came the numbness. I looked down at my hand. It was turning purple. My limbs stiffen up in the cold, much like normal people; Except more pronounced. Doctors so far can't explain why this is.
"Hey, guys!"
"What?" They kept going.
"Wait!"
"What's wrong?"
"I can't drive anymore. My hand is too cold."
"Come on. We're almost there." Pedro pleaded with me, knowing what I was about to ask.
"No, I can't. Can you push me?"
"Yeah, sure."
He took off the break, sighed, and looked at Rodrigo. "Come on, help push this asshole. We only have to go up this walkway and we're there." They got behind me and started pushing all 400 pounds of my chair up the walkway. I felt like the king of Rome. They grunted while I smiled.
"Goddamn you're heavy"
"Come on, guys. Almost there." I said in a nonchalant way.
We made it into the hotel and sat in a bakery next to the nightclub. The long line was filled with beautiful women in backless dresses. All of them too old for us. But Pedro isn't one to give up. "I'll see if I can get some girls. If not, we'll leave as soon as you warm up." 5 minutes, he should back soon. 10 minutes, nothing. 15 minutes, maybe he was successful? 20 minutes, oh here he comes.
"What happened?"
"I started talking with some girls and they were all into me until they asked me how old I was. I told them, 'Oh, I'm 19'......They were 25"
"Damn."
Pedro shrugged and asked me, "So, can you drive?"
"Yeah, let's go"
We walked back past the long line. I turned my head and saw a hot redhead walking by with some guy. Long legs, short black dress.
I wondered what was under that dress. Was she wearing panties? Boy shorts? A thong? Was she even wearing underwear? The whole thing was in slow motion. We made eye-contact and exchanged smiles. The moment passed and I stared happily into space, satisfied with my encounter.
WACK!
I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. I slowed down and Pedro ran in front of me. Damn it, why does he hit me?
"Did you see that girl?" He hunched over and put his hands on my armrests, looking at me with a sly smile.
"Which one?" I was confused. There were so many.
He bowed his head in disappointment
"This hot punk chick walked by, looked down at you and gave you a seductive look." He gave his best imitation.
"Really?"
"You didn't see her?"
"No."
"Goddamn it, lets go."
I was determined to make it back to the hotel without needing to be pushed. I had only enjoyed it before because of the amusement Rodrigo and Pedro provided. But I hate being pushed. There are only two things I can control in my life-- a computer, and my chair-- and I cling to them like a monkey to a tree branch. Sometimes I think they're the only things keeping me sane.
I stopped in front of the rotating doors and took the deepest breath my ventilator allowed me. I'm gonna make it this time. I'm gonna make it this time. I'm gonna make it this time. I told my thumb to push the joystick forward and I was off. The chilly midnight air pierced through the three layers of clothing my mom had forced on me and even my camouflage body jacket was powerless against the prickly needles that seemed to come with it. Pedro and Rodrigo stayed a few steps ahead to derail the legion of idiots that would bump into me otherwise. This was scary because if anything happened, like if I got unplugged from the ventilator, they would not have heard me due to all the street noise.
Motherfuck, it's too fucking cold. This is Vegas it's supposed to be hot. Ooooo look, "Escorts. Beautiful girls waiting for you." I'll have to memorize the number. 555-89... ...goddamn it you whore! PAY ATTENTION TO WHERE YOU'RE GOING! Jesus fucking Christ. Next time I won't avoid you, cunt. Fuck, I better speed up I'm losing them. MOVE ASSHOLES, CRIPPLE COMING THROUGH. Why do I avoid them? I should just hit them full speed. That'll teach them. Fuck, my hand hurts. There's the Aladdin. Almost there.
My hand started to numb. It would stop responding and my chair would stop. I'd make every muscle in my hand inch forward. My chair was in a Stop N' Go cycle all the way to the hotel. We went up to the 18th floor and walked back to our room. My mom popped up from the couch the moment we opened door.
"How was it?"
"I just want to lie down." I said.
I'm not coming back until I'm 21, was my last thought before drifting off to sleep.
Posted by HotWheelz at 7:00 AM