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getting low on money.
    The quarter slot she started feeding had a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar grand payoff for hitting three jokers, a pot so big it had to be paid by the house because there weren’t enough coins in the machine. Most quarter machines only paid off twenty-five-dollar jackpots. When you hit a jackpot, you could see the coins gushing down on the other side of the glass plate that covered the coin holder. She bought a ten-dollar roll of quarters and busted the paper wrapping by knocking it against the payoff tray. She stuck the quarters in her side pocket and pulled them out one at a time. They lasted longer when she kept them in her pocket. When she pulled the handle, she tried different body English to make the tumblers hit pay dirt, jerking the handle real hard and fast at first, then moving it gently, pulling it down so slow the tumblers started moving one at a time. She could hear coins dropping in payoff trays all around her but all she got was two quarters several times for a cherry and ten for three yellow bells.
    In twenty minutes she was down to her last two dollars.
    A blackjack dealer playing a machine nearby said, “Not hitting it today?”
    â€œNot hitting it any day.”
    â€œCute kid you got there. You and your husband must be proud.”
    She hesitated. He was nice looking. Kind of cute really, with black curly hair that went with the black pants, white Western shirt, and black string tie of a dealer. She could tell he was sizing her up. She had had a wedding band, but had sold it for five dollars a month ago.
    â€œMy husband’s, uh, dead.” She wished the bastard was dead.
    She left her seat and got eight quarters for her two dollars from a change girl. When she got back, the dealer was kneeling down, talking to Zack.

    â€œHow you doing there, young fellow?” He held out his hand for Zack to latch onto. “Hey, he’s already got a grip.”
    She played the quarters with desperation. Every one knew you should never play when you’re desperate because it killed your luck, but she couldn’t help it. When she was down to her last quarter, she stopped and looked back to where the dealer was kneeling by Zack.
    â€œHe’s a lucky kid to have such a pretty mom,” he said.
    On impulse, she went to them and rubbed the quarter against Zack’s palm.
    â€œGive me luck, baby.”
    She gave Zack a kiss on his forehead and went back to the one-armed bandit. She put the quarter in and carefully pulled down the handle, letting the tumblers engage one at a time. She stared as the tumblers spun and then came to a sudden halt, one by one. Joker, joker, joker—a two-hundred-fifty-dollar jackpot!
    She let out a scream that might have been heard all the way to Vegas.
    â€œYou’re my lucky baby,” she told Zack. “Lucky, that’s what I’m going to call you.”
    â€œNew in town?” the dealer asked.
    â€œReal new.”
    â€œI can help you get a job,” he said. “I know the girls up in personnel. And a place to stay.”
    Her face began to flush as he gave her a good looking over. She had already gotten her figure back and it was a good one. Who knows? Maybe this was the right guy for her.
    Maybe her luck had finally changed.

5
    MINA, TWELVE YEARS LATER
    Through the dirty classroom window, I watched a dust devil swirl across the playground. The only thing that made the Mina schoolyard different from the rest of the desert was a pile of dirt that marked the pitcher’s mound and a gunny sack with dirt at each base. There were only three rooms in the school: first and second grades in one, third through fifth in another, sixth, seventh, and eighth in the last one. After the eighth grade, you were bussed forty-two miles to the high school in Hawthorne. The Mina school was constructed from three army surplus quonset huts set side by side. There were no hallways, no gym, no cafeteria, no air conditioning,