Some of what follows is true...

Freeport, Bahamas.

1971.

Ron finished his evening meal and enjoyed the sunset from his window.

He lived on the sixth floor of a beach front apartment building that overlooked the Caribbean Ocean.

It was time to get ready for work. His routine never varied; First came a shower, followed by a close shave, and then he slowly blow-dried his hair. It had to be perfect. He teased every strand until it was in place, but after thirty minutes he was still not satisfied with his appearance; even though to everyone else he always looked immaculate.

Ron was tall, very handsome and spoke with a rich English accent. He carefully hand pressed his tuxedo shirt, because neither the dry cleaners, nor his domestic did an acceptable job. Next came a tedious task, the bow tie. However, that night went well and he was almost content with the results after re-tying it twenty times. It was now seven thirty on the mark as he brushed down his midnight blue tuxedo. He was about ready to leave for work. All that remained was to slip on gold cuff-links, signet ring and a Piaget wrist watch.

He worked as a casino croupier or dealer as they are known in the States, in El Casino in the town of Freeport on Grand Bahama island.

The mafia opened El Casino after Fidel Castro had forced them to abandon their Cuban hotels and casinos originally backed by Batista, the deposed dictator. They could make no such deal with Castro who wanted nothing to do with hoodlums, especially from the United States. Not daunted, they convinced a corrupt Bahamian government to partner their enterprises.

Casino management, pit-bosses and supervisors were brought in from Las Vegas and the abandoned hotels in Cuba, and the dealers from the United Kingdom, an artful touch as the Bahamas was still a crown colony of England at the time. That decision had underlying objectives. It gave a certain legitimacy to the casino and kept locals from working there. It was the mid sixties when the Bahamas casinos were first opened, a time when there was much racial tension in the States, and as the target customer was affluent white Americans it was decided not to have the locals, many of African descent, involved with the operation in any way. In fact, Bahamanians were not even allowed in their own casinos. There was also a men only policy. Women were hired as cocktail waitresses and revue dancers, but not as casino dealers.

The dealers were trained in London by mafia casino lieutenants, and many Brits jumped at the chance to earn plenty of money and live on these tax-free islands.

Ron knew it was an opportunity not to be missed.

He came from a poor working-class background. His parents had met and married in Bermondsey, a grim district of London, but mother wanted much more for her children and soon relocated to a village in Kent, an adjoining county. Ron a clever child, was given the opportunity to attend good schools and smooth away his rough, cockney heritage. He became a gentleman.

His father, a gentle giant, except when drunk, was a handsome man who worked first as a doorman and later head receptionist in the exclusive private gambling clubs in the west end of London.

As a child, Ron saw very little of his dad who always worked nights and weekends, and was raised almost exclusively by mum.

She had an unhappy childhood. Her mother died shortly after giving her life, and she spent the next twenty years moving from one aunt to another, as her father had remarried and disowned his own blood to raise his new wife's children.

Ron adored his mother, and remembered all she taught him. She was very protective of her own children, distrustful of outsiders, especially women and spoiled her three sons completely.

After his school years, Ron dabbled at several careers, including advertising and architecture before drifting into the same London night life that father inhabited.

He trained as a croupier, earned a good salary and dreamed of living like the rich clientèle who played cards at his baccarat table.

Before the advent of casinos, Grand Bahama island was a peaceful, untainted Caribbean hideaway. Its only claim to fame a history of smuggling and pirate folk lore.

The west end was a popular resort for sport fishing, but the rest of the island was sparsely inhabited and mostly forest.

El Casino changed all of that. Billed as the largest casino in the western hemisphere, it stood in the center of the small island; an outlandish Arabian style building encircled by hotels and the International Bazaar which boasted exotic cuisine to compliment upscale tax-free boutiques.

In the late sixties, El Casino was one of the first of the theme- type casinos that would eventually turn Las Vegas into the grotesque it has become today.

Within a few years, Freeport became a bustling tourist resort. It's attractions were miles of sandy white beaches, sea of glass, year round climate and casinos.

At that period in time, the only state with legalized gambling was Nevada. There were no native American resorts, riverboats, and even Atlantic city was just a run-down sea side town.

Gamblers, especially from the east coast of the States were instantly attracted to the close proximity of the Bahamas.

Even the climate was better then, before global warming became a reality.

Throughout those years the islands were untouched by the hurricanes that would cause so much devastation in decades to follow.

It did appear as if Ron and his co-workers had stumbled into paradise.

He pulled into the large parking lot, and drove his spotless mustang convertible into it's usual space far away from the other vehicles.

His co-workers secretly made fun of Ron's many quirks, especially his parking antics, because only employees parked in the lot and very often it was all but empty, as tourists hired taxis to travel about the island.

Ron expected that it would be a busy night as it was the start of Spring break, always a huge event in the States, as students travel to sea-side resorts to get away from family, and have fun.

Thousands visit the Florida coastline, and many spend a day or two in the Bahamas.

In the seventies, they didn't even need a passport to visit a different country just a short flight away, and very often their families back home were never aware of that brief trip.

Thirty six blackjack tables were already opened when he began his first stint on table number one.

The Casino was buzzing with tourists that night, many of them college students who had decided to visit the islands on a whim, with no advance reservations at hotels and consequently without a place to sleep. It was not long before Ron noticed a real beauty observing his game, and when their eyes met he smiled at her and she melted. The young woman waited for an open seat at his table and sat down to play.

When the mafia first began operations in the Bahamas, they went exclusively after the wealthy.

The Monte Carlo casino opened at Lucaya beach, on Grand Bahama island, catered solely to high rollers, but they soon realized that there was bigger potential in another area.

El Casino opened as a Vegas style undertaking, with low stake table games and hundreds of slot machines. The mafia were now aiming for a couple of million working class tourists to visit El Casino each year, and loose around twenty dollars per player.

It is the same philosophy that made Las Vegas into the monster it is today; millions of tourists every year, loosing fifty to a hundred dollars in slots or table games; And like Vegas, there was no need to run crooked games, as the odds are always in the house's favor.

Ron and the lovely young woman flirted while she made her two dollar bets, and when he was given a break, met at the Kazbaar coffee shop.

“Two please, Tony.” The waiter showed them to a table.”Hello, I'm Ron.”

“Hi, I'm Mary Lou,” and she giggled. “I just love you're accent.”

“Thank you, and I love yours. Where are you from?”

“Orangeburg..It's in South Carolina. You heard of it?”

“I most certainly have. Let me order you something.”

“Can I have a yellow bird?” Mary Lou asked, beaming.

“Absolutely.” Ron gestured towards Tony. “And I'll have tea with milk, please.”

“I've never met an Englishman before. I just adore Peter O' Toole.”

“He's great. How long will you be staying in Freeport?”

“I'm just here for the night. I guess I'll fly back to Palm Beach, tomorrow. That's where I'm staying.”

Tony served their drinks.

“Cheers.” Ron said.

May Lou giggled again, and sipped her drink. “Mm. It's mighty fine... Where did you learn to play cards so good? Will you show me how to play twenty one?”

“Look, Mary Lou, will you wait for me? I have to return to my table in a few minutes, but I would very much like to see you after work. Do you have any plans?”

Mary Lou was in love. “Why no, there's just little 'ole me. Yes, I sure will wait for you. What time do you finish?”

“Two am. Tony, please take care of Mary Lou. Anything she desires, my tab”. Tony smiled as Ron stood, held Mary Lou's hand and kissed it tenderly. “Until Two, then.” He walked back to the blackjack pit and she gazed longingly after him.

They met each time he had a break throughout the evening, and by the finish of his shift she was quite drunk.

“You gonna take me home with you?” She asked as Ron helped her into the Mustang.

“Yes of course, but I thought you might like to have supper, first.”

“My, you're so cute.” Mary Lou giggled.

“I know a great late night restaurant.” He pulled out of the car park. “It's on the beach.”

“What ever you want, hon,” she replied and sank into the seat.

The full moon was low in the night sky and it appeared that the highway went straight into it's heart. The main island road was well constructed and cut through the middle of a heavily vegetated forest. It was not unusual to make the drive from Freeport to the beach at that time of morning, without encountering a single vehicle.

“Oh my, it sure is empty; And I always say that Orangeburg is dead. Where does everyone live?” She asked as they passed by a dimly lit side-street.

“Well, it's a very modest community. Mostly we live in Freeport, or at the beach. The locals live at the west end of the island.”

The side-streets had been built in an effort to attract foreign investors to purchase property lots. Before independence from England it was considered a good investment to build on the islands and acquire tax free status. Many Americans took the opportunity to become exempt from the IRS; But once the Bahamas gained their independence in 1973 and began to interfere with the status of expatriates it was not such an attractive proposition and many US backed businesses quickly lost interest in the islands. On each of the numerous street corners, stood an impressive street named sign-post, but the roads led nowhere, and eventually became dirt tracks into the forests.

Ron soon turned off the main highway onto a smaller road.

“Here we are.” he said cheerfully, and parked his car along an unfinished trail.

“Where's the beach?” Mary Lou asked.

He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

After some time had passed, he spoke. “Do you really have to leave tomorrow?”

“Well...No, I don't. You see, I traveled here on my own. We had a fight, Randy and me. He's kinda my boyfriend. Heck, I've known him since grade school. He's such a kid. Not a gentleman, like you. We got a motel in Palm Beach. Anyway, we had words and I up and left. He don't even know where I am,” she giggled, excitedly. “No one does.”

Ron kissed her again. “You can stay with me, if you want to?”

“Yeah, I'd like that... Show me the ocean.”

They walked hand in hand along a narrow pathway through thick undergrowth, and stood facing the gently rolling Caribbean.

“This is my private beach. Very few people ever visit it.”

“Is that a marina?”

“Yes. It leads to the restaurant I told you about.”

“I'm gonna swim” Mary Lou quickly undressed an waded into the sea. “It feels fine...Come on, join me.” Ron watched her frolicking naked in water.

“You're so beautiful. So perfect.”

“Why, thank you.” She went to him, and they embraced. As Mary Lou turned to lay down on the sand he saw a small mark on her back.

“What is that?” He asked.

“That ole thing? It's just a birth mark....Make love to me.”

Ron knelt beside her, and lightly touched her face. “You're not perfect, after all.” His hand suddenly tightened around her neck. “You lied to me.”

Mary Lou screamed out and kicked wildly. But he was too strong for her, and within a short time her body went limp. She let out one last gasp, and breathed no more.

Ron closed her terrified eyes.

“I really thought I'd found her this time, Mum. She reminded me a little of you.” He dragged the lifeless body along the beach towards the marina entrance. “I know what you are going to say. I'm too hasty. Women are deceitful and liars, but I'm lonely and I miss you.” He slipped a ring from her finger and pushed Mary Lou into the marina. “There we are my friends. It's supper time!” The calm waters soon swirled with frenzied activity as two sharks fed on her corpse. Predators swam into the marina every night in search of food scraps dumped into the marina by resturant workers. “Make sure you clean every bit of meat off the bones, my lad or you won't get dessert!” Ron smiled.

He neatly folded Mary Lou's clothes and walked back to his car. “I'm sorry Mum, you know that you will always be the one. They are all whores, but not my Mater.” He placed her things on the passenger seat of his car. “Oh well, there's always tomorrow. Who knows, I may get lucky the next time. After all, it's Spring Break. my favorite time of the year.”

He caught his reflection in the rear view mirror. “Something is wrong!” He snarled and stared into the mirror intently. “Something is wrong! What is it!” He began to loose control and pound the steering wheel with his fists. But then quite suddenly, he laughed loudly. “I know what's wrong.” He brushed hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut, my lad!.. Don't be angry Mum, I'll get one first thing in the morning, promise,”and he drove away into the still night.

Keyword: bahamas england richard-davies short-stories mafia el-casino freeport gambling spring-break

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