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Tilly and Dusty were in Las Vegas to watch and support Tilly’s cousin, Celestine, perform at Thomas and Mack to a sold-out show of her first ever solo concert. Celestine was her Uncle Roger’s daughter. She was an R&B artist who had written and performed several hits.
Tilly and Dusty decided to have dinner before heading to the concert. They hadn’t made a reservation, and all the restaurants were packed. They walked into the coffee shop, where the hostess seated them and handed each of them a menu. Ray approached them and asked what they wanted to drink.
"Two coffees, please," Tilly said.
"I'm not sure what I want to eat. Everything looks fantastic," Dusty stated as he perused the menu.
"Me, too," Tilly said. "I’m not sure if I’ll have the meatloaf, liver and onions, or beef stew."
Ray overheard them and suggested they try the beef stew. He claimed to have tasted it himself and described it as "out of this world."
"All right, beef stew it is," Tilly remarked, smiling at Ray. "How about you, honey?"
"I suppose I’ll have beef stew as well." Dusty laughed. He thanked the busboy.
Before returning to the kitchen, Ray grinned and said, "You’re welcome."
Ray's kind demeanor charmed Tilly. Something scarce nowadays.
The server approached and took their order. Ray returned with a fresh pot of coffee, which he poured into each cup. Tilly inquired if he could recommend any Las Vegas attractions or sightseeing tours. Ray replied truthfully that he was new in town and knew little about the area yet. He said he had just arrived a few days ago and was trying his luck there after a string of bad luck.
"You have a distinctive Texan accent. Have you ever lived in Texas?" Tilly questioned.
"Yes, ma’am," Ray replied, his voice cracking. He thought about his daughter and longed for her. "Do you need anything else?"
Tilly noticed Ray almost choked up when she asked about Texas. He likely had some bad memories of there. She told Ray they were OK and needed nothing at this moment. Ray nodded and walked away.
"I know what you’re doing, Tilly," Dusty remarked.
"What do you mean? I’m not doing anything."
"I can see it in your eyes. You’re being nosy again. You want to question that man about his life story, don’t you?"
"No, it never occurred to me," she stated.
"Hmm," Dusty said, shaking his head. He knew everything about his wife. She couldn’t keep anything from him, but he was always teasing her. He enjoyed seeing his wife blush when she realized he was correct.
Their food arrived just as Tilly was about to say something. She looked at her watch and realized it was seven thirty. The concert began at 8 p.m.
"Don’t worry, darling," Dusty said. "Celestine doesn’t take the stage until nine. There are a few acts before her performance."
"Just hurry," Tilly said. "I still don’t want to be late. She has invited us to visit her dressing room, and I’d like to see her before she goes on stage, so I can provide her with moral support. She must be in a state of panic right now. Her concert is completely sold out."
"All right, let’s eat."
It didn’t take long for them to finish their food. Tilly looked around for Ray, and when she saw him, she motioned for him to come over. She unzipped her bag, pulled out her wallet, and took out some cash. Unbeknownst to Tilly, a man sitting at the next table noticed her wallet was full of cash. He looked around the coffee shop, but there were far too many people. He was drenched in sweat. The man shifted his chair closer to Tilly’s.
"This is for you." Tilly handed Ray a hundred dollars.
"Ma’am, this is too much."
"It’s for good service."
"Thank you so much. By the way, my name is Ray. When you come back, ask for me, and I’ll get you the best seat in the house. I have connections here," he joked.
"All right, we’ll take you up on your offer," Tilly said as she slid her wallet back into her shoulder bag, which was hanging on the back of the chair.
Ray smiled, but frowned when he noticed the man behind Tilly looking suspicious. He was staring at Tilly’s bag. He had a feeling the man was up to no good. Ray moved closer to Tilly, and when the man grabbed Tilly’s bag and ran, Ray thrust one foot out and tripped the thief. The man fell to the floor, blubbering, and Ray put his foot firmly on his back, but not before the man punched his knee hard.
"Oh, my God!" Tilly yelled.
Ray fought the man and was successful in subduing him. He detained the man until security arrived.
"Are you all right?" Tilly asked.
“Next time, keep your purse close to you, OK? You don't know who is watching you at all times," Ray stated as he handed Tilly her bag.
"Thank you, Ray, for recovering my handbag. That’s something I’ll never forget."
"It was all in a day’s work," he grinned.
Everyone in the coffee shop shook Ray’s hand in recognition of his bravery, and even the manager was pleased. His actions were unusual for a new employee. No one would risk their life for a customer.
Ray walked Tilly and Dusty out and thanked them again for their generosity. Tilly gave him a quick embrace, and Dusty shook his hand, both of them mumbling their gratitude for what he had done. Ray returned to the coffee shop and began cleaning the table. He worked a few more hours before clocking out and going home.
***
RAY WAS SLEEPING IN the middle of the night when he was jolted awake by a loud noise. Some thugs were trying to break into his room. He tried calling the front desk, but no one answered. He tried dialing the number again, but it was too late. The intruders pried through the door, discovered Ray, and knocked him out cold, before ransacking his room and stealing his hard-earned money. He awoke in a hospital, badly beaten. He couldn’t comprehend the depth of his misfortune. Could things get worse?
Tilly and Dusty woke up late and ordered room service. Celestine’s concert was a success. There was an after-party, and they didn’t get back to their hotel room until after 2 a.m. Dusty read the newspaper while they ate breakfast at the table. Tilly snatched the other side of it and began turning pages. Her eyes widened. There was a fuzzy image of Ray on the main page, beneath the headline, with the caption: "A man severely beaten in his motel room..."
Tilly stared at the picture for a long time, as if looking for a name in her memory bank. The hazy snapshot was enough to identify Ray as the coffee shop busboy.
"Sweetheart, isn’t this Ray?" she inquired.
"Ray who?" Dusty answered.
"Ray, the busboy from the coffee shop last night."
Dusty took the newspaper from her grasp and examined the hazy image. "You are correct. It is Ray."
"I don't believe in coincidences, but Ray getting beaten up in his motel room after a fight with someone last night is insane."
"You are right. It’s just too coincidental that this occurred to Ray. He was obviously a target."
They went to the hospital where Ray was being treated, but when they arrived, they were told Ray had vanished.
"Disappeared?" asked Dusty. "How did that happen? How bad is he?"
"He had bruises on his face, swollen lips, and stitches across his forehead. They scheduled him for an X-ray, but when the hospital attendant came to fetch him, his bed was empty."
"Oh, my gosh," Tilly said. "Why would he do that? Why would he leave? He’s out there someplace by himself, wondering about."
Tilly and Dusty drove around the area, but it was almost like Ray had vanished into thin air. He was nowhere to be found. The police also assisted them in their search, and they spotted several males going along the street, but not the one they sought. The officers promised Tilly and Dusty that they would keep looking around town and notify them if they located him. Tilly and Dusty thanked the officers and headed back to their hotel.
***
RAY WAS WAITING IN line with other homeless people for free meals at the park. A community outreach program for a free lunch was taking place. Smoke rose from the charcoal grills where chicken, hot dogs, and hamburgers were being cooked. There was also music provided by a group of senior citizens who sang and played guitar.
Ray, who appeared confused, sat in front of the band, watching and listening to the man playing the guitar after he had finished eating the complimentary lunch of grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and sweet corn. Thoughts of him playing the guitar crept into his mind until it jolted him back to reality when he heard the tune he used to play. In high school, he could play the guitar fairly well. He and his buddies had formed a heavy metal band named The Beast, but he could also perform hundreds of songs by the Beatles, Eagles, and Led Zeppelin. While the band took a break, one member observed Ray and asked whether he played the guitar. Ray said yes.
"How about playing with us?" one of the band members said.
"No, I couldn’t. I haven’t played in years. I’m rusty," Ray said.
"We’re rusty as well. We’re in over our heads thinking we could still play, but I’m afraid we’re too old. What were we thinking?" The band member laughed.
"All right, fair warning. Don’t expect too much, okay? It’s been a while since I last played."
Ray picked up the guitar and began strumming a few chords, before blasting into an amazing rendition of Stairway to Heaven. People began yelling, applauding, and cheering. They were up and singing, and when Ray performed Another One Bites the Dust, he was a big hit.
Who would have thought he could play like that? When Ray stated he had to leave, the members of the band thanked him. From the way Ray looked, they knew he was homeless. Everyone pitched in and handed Ray fifty dollars to help him out. Ray was overjoyed when they gave him one of their old guitars.
Ray took advantage of a free shower, grooming, and change of clothing during the outreach. He’d had enough of Las Vegas and decided it was time to find greener pastures elsewhere. Ray bought a one-way ticket with the fifty dollars the band had given him, and after many hours on a Greyhound bus, he arrived at Union Station in Los Angeles with a fresh view of life. One thing about Ray was that he never let failure and frustration dictate his future. With a new guitar in his hands, all he had to do was string a few chords together, and everything would be OK.
He got off the bus and followed the crowd. Ray hopped aboard a local bus that stopped in front of him, not knowing where he was going. He got off the bus when he saw a room for rent sign in a one-story home. It was only a few blocks off Hollywood Boulevard. Maureen Shay, the landlady, was in her early sixties and showed him the room. Her husband had recently died, so she took in boarders to augment her income.
The monthly rent was only $200. Ray felt he’d never find a house cheaper than that, so he took it, but he didn’t have the money to pay the deposit. He informed Maureen that he had recently arrived in Los Angeles and promised to pay her as soon as he found work. Maureen didn’t want to accept that arrangement, but she grudgingly accepted it. She knew how difficult it was to start in a new town. Maureen, using her best judgment, advised Ray that he could stay and pay his rent at the end of the month. Ray was overjoyed that he had a place to stay. He thought he would sleep on the street tonight. He thanked Maureen with a hug, and she blushed.
Ray entered his room, which had a modest bed and a dresser. The bathroom was in the corridor, and he had to share it with the other boarders. Three female renters, Rosemary, Joy, and Anne, occupied the remaining rooms, while Maureen lived in the guest house.
