Marie turned to look out the thick glass window.  She saw houses as small as matchboxes, swimming pools that looked like props behind miniature dollhouses, and people no larger than dots, scattered everywhere, walking slowly, or hidden inside colorful toy cars.  Then the scene disappeared under a long stretch of dense, foamy white, and she wondered if this cloud was solid enough to stand on.

     She didn't particularly want to go to Las Vegas.  It had been Joe's idea.  Gambling was his passion, and they had many heated arguments because of money that he'd lost.  Marie never enjoyed playing the horses or betting sports herself, but had compromised so that she could spend the second half of their honeymoon in Tijuana.

     "What do you see out there, Dear?" Joe asked.
     "Clouds," Marie answered.  "They're thicker than shaving cream from up here."
     "Well, you're on top of the world now," he said, caressing her hand.  He touched the ring on her finger, and pushed it farther up towards her palm.  "You have to keep the ring on all the time," he reminded her, leaning triumphantly back in his chair.  He plunged his hand into his front pocket, checking to see that the thick wad of cash was still there. 

     The two had divided up the wedding money equally just before leaving for the airport.  Marie recalled Joe's solemn promise to control his gambling: he would only carry forty or fifty dollars at a time with him, and spend their honeymoon sightseeing and doing other things.  She smiled with contentment and closed her eyes; she awoke just before landing in Las Vegas.

     The wait to obtain the rental car seemed never-ending, and both were pleased to finally arrive at the hotel.  The room was elegant, spacious, and situated right in the middle of downtown.  The city didn't sleep that night.  There were more lights in Las Vegas than Marie could have ever imagined - lights of every possible color, size, and shape, - some that blinked, signaling on and off in patterns, displaying pictures, words, or designs.  Others shone like beacons.  It was easy to forget that you were in the desert.

     Joe was eager to go to the casino downstairs in the hotel.  Marie went along.  She watched Joe play Blackjack for hours, then went back to the room; she wanted to collect her thoughts - memories of the busy, crowded wedding stirred in her mind, and it was difficult to picture herself a married woman. "Was it a dream?  Was it a nightmare?" she wondered.  Marie tried to make sense of it, but failing, resigned herself to her pillow.

     Hours later, she was awakened suddenly by Joe's presence.  The smell of bourbon and cigarettes filled the room. 
     "Where have you been?" Marie asked.  "What time is it? You've been gambling all goddamn night?"
     "Oh, Honey," Joe said, "I didn't lose much money."  He undressed, crawled under the sheets, and maneuvered himself on top of her. 
     Marie was angry, but went through the motions, just glad to accomplish the honeymoon tradition. She decided to forgive Joe.

     The next day, the newlyweds toured the city on foot, walking from one casino to the next.  Marie noticed that they all seemed to have the same red carpet, the same games, virtually the same identity; only the flashy signs on the outside differed. "A person couldn't visit every one in a year's time," Marie thought, "and there would scarcely be a point." 

Joe became absorbed in Blackjack, and Marie wandered around for awhile, finally seating herself at a slot machine.  She watched the brightly-lit apples, oranges, and pears roll by, and soon found herself in the grip of compulsion.  She inserted coins and pulled the lever until her arm grew weak, and her eyes burned from watching the screen.  Drinks and cigarettes had been brought to her - compliments of the casino - but they only gave her a headache.  Finally, frustrated and on the verge of tears, she tore herself from the machine.  She had no more money with her, and aware of the futility, didn't obtain more.  She had relinquished about fifty dollars worth of quarters, dimes, and nickels.

     Marie searched for Joe, and found him at the Craps table. Marie watched the people gathered around, putting chips down, stacking them, moving them, winning some, losing some, and shouting out numbers.  There was so much going on she couldn't follow it, and didn't understand the game anyway. It seemed that the object was to play until all your tokens were gone, which was always the result. 

     A group of well-dressed men were playing, and seemed to have a countless number of chips at their disposal.  Marie watched a young man with a well-trimmed, black mustache roll the dice time after time, while the arrangement of tokens on the table changed like the scattering of balls on a pool table. The dark-haired man rolled the dice again, and the casino worker removed a tall stack of chips that was on the number five.  A graying old man in a suit and tie snarled angrily, and remained irate from then on.  He stood close to Marie, giving her looks of anger and contempt, so she nudged her husband, who moved to a different table with her.  Joe tried his luck for another couple hours, then obtained more chips and went back to Blackjack.       

     "Let's drive to the Grand Canyon now," Marie said to Joe.  "You promised we'd go, remember?"
     "In a minute," Joe said, looking at his cards.  "I'm up money."       
     "Let's go now!" Marie demanded.  "It's getting late, and you're just going to lose anyway."  
     "Okay, in a minute," he said. 
     An hour passed.
     "I don't want to stay here playing the slots!" Marie scolded. "Let's go now!"
     "After this hand we'll go," Joe promised.
     Marie lost count after five hands. 
     "If you don't get ready now, I'll go to that place down the street and begin divorce proceedings."
     Joe lost his last chip an hour later. 

     Marie loved the scenery from the car.  She was relieved to be away from the noisy clatter of the casinos, and riding freely down the desert highway.  She stuck her arm outside the window, and there was no breeze, only warm air.  The Hoover Dam was awesome, an indication to Marie that better things lay ahead - a preview of the amazing Grand Canyon she was about to see.  Joe chattered along the way, and Marie was finally enjoying the honeymoon.  They drove through Arizona, and the desert became greenery.  It was getting dark outside. 
     "When will we arrive?" Marie asked every few minutes. 
     "Oh, pretty soon, pretty soon..." Joe responded cheerily.  The two joked and laughed, and talked about the Grand Canyon.

     Although night had fallen, they continued on and found their way to the vicinity of the Grand Canyon.  There were no lights anywhere of any kind. They walked through footpaths in a wooded area, using their lighters to see. 
     "What can we do?" Marie wondered aloud.  They had traveled over five hours only to be robbed of the highlight of their vacation.  "I've heard there are snakes and scorpions out here," she said. 
     "I'm just worried about falling headlong into the abyss," Joe responded, reluctant to follow Marie down the tree-lined path. 
     "What now?" she despaired.
     "Let's look for a hotel," her husband answered quickly.
     They drove around town for hours, only to find that every establishment was booked.  No vacancies anywhere. 
     "Now what do we do?" Marie cried, frustrated.    
     "Well, we could spend the night in the car, and see the Grand Canyon in the morning," Joe suggested, in an effort to appease his wife.  
     "People will come and slaughter us," she said, and persuaded Joe to drive back to Nevada. 
     "That's ridiculous, Dear," Joe chided.  "No one will rob us."
     Marie looked at the shiny, white rental car, the only vehicle in the parking lot, and at the uncomfortable back seat, no blankets or pillows, just a thick red car seat that smelled like fresh plastic.  Joe's hand was buried deep in his front pocket.  Marie struggled with the decision, but anxious and upset, she pointed to the wheel.
       
      It was a long drive, and Joe seemed happy, chatting away again, discussing the Hoover Dam. He was trying to imagine how it was built, how many years it took to finish.  Marie ignored him; all the way back, she tried to envision the spectacle that they'd missed - she was immensely disappointed.  The Hoover dam, a vast area dug out into the earth, topped by a massive, circular bridge, was her only compensation.  "It's the only pleasant memory I'll have of this whole trip," she thought, frowning.    

     In the hotel bed that night, Marie waited for Joe to return from the casino.  She thought about his gambling.  It had always angered her - twice in the past he had lost a thousand dollars to bookies, not to mention all the money he spent at the horse races - and had to have his mother bail him out.  Marie tried to sleep, but only dozed off, half conscious.

     She was startled when the door opened, followed again by the stench of stale smoke and alcohol.  Joe walked around to the other side of the bed.          
     "What are you doing?" Marie asked.
     "Nothing," Joe replied.  "Go back to sleep, I'll be up in a minute."
     She heard Joe rustling through his jacket pockets, and searching the pants that were draped over the chair.  "You're a jerk," Marie said.  "You're going to lose all the money you got at the wedding."
     "Go back to sleep," Joe answered.  "I'm not going to lose all our money."  His footsteps seemed to drag awkwardly across the carpet.  Marie buried her face in her pillow.  "The marriage is a nightmare," she decided.

     On the third day, Joe called his mother to have more cash wired to him.  Marie berated him, but this made no impact on Joe.  He had somehow trained since childhood to ignore anything unpleasant.  Nothing could penetrate the simple lack of concern he had practiced all of his life.

     On their way to Tijuana, Marie counted what money she had left.  All but one hundred and fifty dollars of her half remained.  Joe was penniless - he had lost over a thousand dollars - and had to rely on Marie to provide food for them. Marie was infuriated, but decided to keep quiet; she didn't want to ruin their honeymoon any more than it already was. At least, she thought, the finances were now under her control - Joe couldn't buy a lottery ticket without her approval. She put her ring in a secret compartment in her purse so Joe wouldn't steal it.