PEG-LEG ANNIE AND THE ONE-ARMED BANDIT

	a

	short story

	by

	J. C. Marcellus




	The peg leg thing had begun as a joke. That, at least, was 
the way Annie had seen it. She had let Fred talk her into going 
to a Masquerade party as a pirate--a pirate with a real peg leg. 
It had all seemed very camp at first, absurd and even a little 
bizarre. But one thing had led to another after the party. First 
there was the slot machine, and then the movie, and now she was 
staring at her left shoe which lay on its side in the open door-
way of a run-down ranch house somewhere outside Reno, her limb 
and whatever it contained gone with two very determined entrepre-
neurs.
	Just who or what to blame for her current unenviable situa-
tion escaped her. Certainly it was not Fred's fault. All he had 
done was suggest that they take advantage of her one-leggedness 
to win first prize at the party. The one-armed bandit had more to 
do with it. She had kept going back to test it again, and that 
was where she met the film maker. A thousand dollars for a few 
hours work was too much for her to turn down in spite of the fact 
that it was obviously a cheap and sleazy operation.
	Her mild addiction to gambling did more to explain it than 
anything, she decided. If she had not been so willing to take a 
small chance, none of this would have happened. Didn't everybody 
gamble in some way or other every day? That is, didn't everybody 
take some small chance, knowing that it could turn out wrong, but 
likely would not? Of course they did. The degree of the risk was 
the only difference between the big time gambler and the everyday 
person. 
	It had seemed that a background appearance in an X-rated 
movie would be a small chance indeed, nothing like the really bib 
gambles she had endured and won. The small chances were the ones 
which ended in disaster for her-- like the time she had crawled 
out on a tree limb in her neighbor's back yard to retrieve her 
kitten. It broke and she had sustained a compound fracture of her 
left thigh. Gangrene had developed two days later and off came 
her leg, two thirds of the way up from her knee. All the kids in 
the neighborhood played in that tree, but it had taken her to 
find the rotten spot in the limb.
	Whether it was gambling, the peg leg, the one-armed bandit, 
the movie or whatever, it made little difference now, The desert 
cold was creeping in under a faint moon and Annie wrapped her 
arms under her breasts and clasped her sides tightly. She would 
have to endure the cold until morning. The house was big enough 
to have three or four rooms, but there was no light and her limb 
was gone with her captors and she had no desire to explore by 
hopping around on her high heel in hopes of finding blankets or a 
bed to sleep on. Somehow she had to get to the highway in the 
morning, and a sprained ankle would cancel any chance of that. 
Removing the shoe would make hopping easier, but she had no idea 
what might be strewn on the floor, and a cut foot would have the 
same result. She shivered and leaned back in the chair by the 
single small table in the main room of the house. She would dream 
of Fred. Fred in bed. Mind over matter. It might sustain her 
until sunrise.

	Annie had met Fred at a party in Las Vegas less than a month 
after graduating from the University or Arizona and taking a job 
with a Nevada based insurance company. Armed with a degree in 
mathematics, a new car (graduation gift from daddy) and a consum-
ing desire to succeed in the male dominated world of business, 
she was bursting with enthusiasm for her job and eager for ex-
periences as a free and independent woman.
	The party was a casual affair given by one of the residents 
in her apartment building and she went all out to meet everyone 
there, making a special effort to remember as many names as 
possible. Fred was attracted to her immediately, She seemed to be 
his type--medium height, with a trim figure, nice knockers, rich 
dark hair framing a pretty face with lovely brown eyes. He liked 
what he heard as much as what he saw. Annie was bright and witty. 
Fred impressed Annie in a different way. Although attractive 
enough, she saw him as the cool and charming young man with quiet 
confidence that success could not possibly bypass. He was an 
investment analyst at the local office of a nationwide brokerage 
form and had just taken his examination to become a broker him-
self.
	Fred walked her to her apartment when the party started to 
fade out, and for the first time noticed the slight unevenness of 
her gait. It was not a limp in his mind, just an irregularity.
	"Sprain your ankle or something?" he asked.
	"Nope," Annie answered quickly. "It's my usual limp. I wear 
an artificial leg." She had, of course, answered the same ques-
tion many times before, and experience had taught her to get the 
mystery into the open as soon as possible.
	Fred was suddenly speechless and Annie thought her first 
affair as a free and independent woman was going to be over 
before it got started. Finally he said, "My God! That's awful! 
How did it happen?"
	Annie told him about falling out of the tree, making it 
sound as funny and ridiculous as possible, then added: "And it's 
not so awful. I'm quite used to it and much worse things can 
happen. Don't you agree?"
	"Of course," he said, "but doesn't it ever bother you? I 
mean... don't you have to be extra careful or something?" He 
didn't actually know what he meant. It just seemed such a tragedy 
for a pretty young woman to have to live with only one leg. There 
were so many things to do. Look at all she had to miss.
	"Extra careful?" Annie replied. "No." Then a fiendish little 
desire to tease him grabbed her. "Oh, yes, I have to be careful 
when I do the Bump. If I break the pressure lock, the stupid 
thing wants to fall off. And I have to remember to take it off 
before I go swimming. It leaks all over the place when it's full 
of water. Very messy." Fred realized she was putting him on and 
laughed at her. "And the only thing that bothers me," she con-
tinued, "is people who think I deserve some special treatment 
because I lost a leg." 
	"Fair enough," Fred said, still amused. "I'll save my spe-
cial treatment for girls who haven't lost a leg."
	"Wait a minute," Annie protested. "I'm not sure that's what 
I meant."
	"Okay, then," he said, "let me take you to dinner and a 
movie tomorrow night."
	"Nonsense," Annie answered. "Buy the steaks and bring them 
to my place and I'll cook dinner. Then we can go to a movie or go 
swimming or whatever suits us."
	"It's a deal," he said.
	The little dinner for two came off just as Annie had 
planned. They were too stuffed for either a movie or swimming, so 
sipping wine and listening to music seemed the only really viable 
alternative. They teased and tickled, touched and caressed, 
kissed and panted, and Annie was sure Fred would become her first 
lover in more than a month, but when she suggested she go to the 
bedroom and remove her limb, he suddenly tensed and fell silent.
	"What's the matter?" she asked. "Is a one-legged chick too 
bizarre for you?"
	"I don't know," he said. "I don't think so. It's just that I 
think you're really great and I want to make sure I'm really 
great -- feeling right, I mean -- before we make it. I couldn't 
take a chance on disappointing you."
	"You're already disappointing me," Annie observed.
	"I suppose so," he said, realizing the tactlessness of his 
honesty. "I don't think it'll make a bit of difference. Go take 
it off. Wait. Give me a kiss before you go. You're a great kiss-
er."
	Annie gave him a kiss with all the passion she could muster 
and went to the bedroom to remove the limb. She had met one dude 
before who was all ready to make it and then couldn't once she 
had removed her leg. Only one. She was totally prepared to accept 
Fred as the second, but she wasn't going to give up before the 
real test. She took off the sweater and pants outfit she had worn 
for dinner, removed the leg and pulled on her favorite lounging 
pajamas, folding the left leg up inside and making a small pocket 
for her stump. She went back to the living room on crutches.
	Fred looked at her; he actually stared. She stopped just 
inside the archway fearing his next reaction, but he slowly 
smiled and held out his arms in invitation. "You're beautiful -- 
just as beautiful as before. More. I like your pajamas."
	Annie left her crutches at the end of the couch and dropped 
to the pillows on the floor beside him. "Tell me what it's like 
to have one leg," he said, apparently serious. 
	"Sure," she agreed. "I'll tell you every detail if you'll 
tell me what it's like to have two legs. I've completely forgot-
ten."
	He started to say that everybody knows what it's like to 
have two legs, but he caught himself. He could no more describe 
two-leggedness than she could one-leggedness. "Forget it," he 
said, clearly acknowledging her mental dexterity.
	They made love for the next hour and a half. He was very 
gentle and very slow, as if he might hurt her or startle her with 
a sudden move. She was ready to burst more than once, but she 
held her urge for aggression and let him set the pace. He gave 
considerable attention to every inch of her body -- except her 
stump -- before he entered her. She was so delirious by that time 
that it made little difference who was there. He took the top and 
she gladly received him on her back. He probed her with smooth 
rhythm that became like the pounding of the sea and she dug her 
left elbow into the soft carpet and pushed her hip with her hand 
to balance the strength of her right leg as she met his thrusts 
with her own. She climaxed once before him, and then they came 
together.
	It was marvelous. She worked him back into shape and they 
made it again, taking a full ten minutes to reach that final 
plateau of ecstasy before the soothing collapse of tensed muscle 
consumed them. They lay touching for a long time before either 
spoke. "I'm glad I didn't let you spook me," Fred breathed. 
	"I'm glad I didn't spook you," Annie echoed.
	Fred got up and went to the kitchen and opened a new bottle 
of wine. When he returned he stretched out on her left side, the 
side he had avoided when the choice was his. They sipped the 
wine, sharing the bottle, and finally he sat up and cupped the 
back of her stump in his hand and raised it gingerly, studying it 
carefully.
	"Does it ever hurt?" he asked.
	"Hurt?" she said, incredulous. "Of course not. It works my 
limb, makes up what's left of my lap, keeps me balanced when I 
hop and might just turn you on if I stroked you balls with it. 
Oh, yes, it makes a good prop when I need two hands."
	"Sounds nice," he said. He bent and kissed it right on the 
end and then laid back beside her very quickly. "How does it make 
a good prop?"
	"Oh," Annie replied. "I pull out a drawer and rest my weight 
on the back. It comes in very handy."
	"Okay," he said. "I'm a believer." He went soundly to sleep 
within minutes and Annie got up and hopped to the bedroom for a 
cover. She stayed on the floor next to him until early morning 
when he stirred. She woke him and urged that they move to the 
bedroom. He started that way and then realized she was hopping 
behind him and turned to pick her up. It was totally unnecessary, 
of course, but she relished the gesture and kissed him hungrily 
as he carried her to the bed. She had learned long ago to toler-
ate acts of kindness.
	Annie and Fred became great friends and steady lovers. They 
loved each other but they were not in love. They discussed mar-

riage, but it seemed such a risk compared to the relatively 
uncomplicated lives they lived, and the pleasures they shared, 
together but separate. What could it add? Nothing, they decided; 
there was no need to legalize their devotion.
	During the year that followed Annie became fascinated with 
the gaming tables. She used her considerable talents to build  
mathematical models of the games and test betting combinations on 
the computer at work. She harbored no illusions about finding the 
way to beat them. Her plan was to keep her losses at a minimum so 
she could enjoy that streak of luck that eventually blessed all 
steady gamblers. It worked. In six months the tables were into 
her for less than four hundred dollars and she got hot at craps. 
She walked away with two thousand dollars while Fred stood by 
amazed. The big gamble came when she let five hundred ride on a 
three to one shot and one. After that she collected small change 
while she was still hot.
	Making love that night was especially good for Annie. Gam-
bling always made her horny and she did nothing to curb her 
aggressiveness. Fred complied when she insisted that he simply 
lay back and enjoy. For her the woman superior position was 
clearly the most sensual, but she always had to enlighten her 
partner on how to support her left side. Her stump was too short 
to push on the bed so she had him put his hand on her rear so she 
could push against his forearm. This compensated nicely for her 
deficiency and allowed her to concentrate totally on squeezing 
every ounce of pleasure from the experience.
	The next morning she banked fifteen hundred dollars and 
spent the rest on clothes. In the next few months she allowed the 
tables to take her for no more than she had budgeted and on the 
anniversary of her first meeting with Fred, she got hot again and 
walked away with eight hundred dollars. She knew her overall 
track record could not stand forever, but she was elated that her 
betting schemes had worked for the first year.

	Shortly after her second streak of luck, Fred brought up the 
thing about the peg leg. She had to admit that it was a novel 
idea -- probably a sure winner, but her willingness to take 
advantage of her handicap had waned in the recent past. Things 
were just going too well the way they were. It would certainly 
draw attention, and that was something she had enjoyed during 
high school and college, but now she seemed to have no need for 
it. Still, there was something daring and bizarre about the idea 
that attracted her.
	"No way," she finally said. Fred dropped it, but not for 
long. 
	"Why not?" he said, a week later. "Don't tell me you're too 
sensitive about your handicap. You spend at least two hours a day 
hopping around the swimming pool." It was true. She had learned 
that if she was going to do all the things she liked and really 
wanted to do, the limb would frequently have to stay at home and 
she would have to ignore the stares from the curious.
	"I don't have a peg leg," she found herself saying.
	"I know," he said, "but you have that knockaround limb you 
wear when we go to the desert. I know how to operate a wood 
lathe. We could take off the leg part and convert it pretty 
easily."
	"But I need that limb," she protested. "I bang up my good 
ones enough now. Real legs heal when they get scratched; plastic 
ones don't."
	"So," he replied, "we make it so the peg screws into a 
bracket which we bold onto the thigh part just above the knee. 
When you need it, we unbolt the peg and snap the leg back on."
	"But then it'll have holes in it and the suction won't 
work."
	"A little tape will fix that," he said, totally confident. 
True again. It was obvious that he had done some thinking about 
it in spite of her initial refusal. And there was no question 
about the bolt holes damaging the appearance of the limb. She had 
made several attempts a few years before to restore it to its 
original color but it had turned out looking like a desert land-
scape. At that point she and her roommates at school had turned 
it into a stylized American flag -- the thigh being the blue 
field with fifty white stars and the leg sporting vertical red 
and white stripes. Now, even the paint was chipping.
	Annie gave in on the peg leg business and they spent three 
evenings in the woodworking shop of one of Fred's buddies turning 
down a sturdy chunk of balsa. It ended up a smoothly tapered 
truncated cone, three inches in diameter at one end and an inch 
at the other. The next job was to get the alignment and length 
correct. The alignment was important to keep her from putting 
pressure on her nub in the wrong places (that causes blisters) 
and the length had to be a little less than her right leg so she 
could swing it forward without scraping it on the floor. It was 
all done within a week and they painted it black and put a large 
crutch tip on the end.
	Annie was totally pleased with it, much to her surprise. It 
was sturdy and unbending, and she didn't have to worry about the 
leg part being in the right position so she could put her weight 
on it. It played hell with the smooth gait she had developed with 
her regular limb, but that seemed unimportant compared to its 
absolute reliability. She started wearing it in the apartment, 
and soon found the courage to venture out as far as the garbage 
dumpster. Within a month she could be seen regularly after work, 
stumping her way across the patio to the swimming pool. It did  
not surprise her when she acquired the nickname, "Peg Leg Annie."

	The masquerade party was a total success if you consider 
winning all the important prizes the only yardstick for the 
success of a masquerade party. Otherwise it was dismal. The 
younger people did nothing to hide the fact that they thought she 
had taken unfair advantage. "Why couldn't I have thought of 
that?" one blond and very two-leggy beauty had said. Still, they 
all wanted to meet her and she endured the attention. The party 
was also populated by matronly types who had to hear every detail 
concerning her missing leg before telling her how beautiful and 
courageous she was -- an inspiration to those who had to face 
life with a handicap. It made her want to vomit.
	When it came time to pass out the prizes Annie was totally 
guilt-ridden. She was probably the only woman in Las Vegas who 
would dare come as a pirate on a real peg leg. Certainly the 
number who could was very small. She felt very cheap accepting 
the awards and apologized in her little speech, but the crowd 
made it plain that they forgave her.
	She felt a little better when she and Fred left a few 
minutes later. He wanted to stop for breakfast so she agreed, 
although she did not relish the thought of explaining her odd 
costume to curious restaurant patrons. They had to wait for 
service so Annie played a slot. It paid! A few dollars later it 
paid again! The machine would not stop paying and by the time 
their name was called she had nearly a hundred dollars. This act 
did nothing to divert attention elsewhere. "Not every day you see 
a peg-legged pirate take a one-armed bandit to the cleaners," one 
observer remarked. Annie was pleased with her winnings but wel-
comed the chance to sit down where she was less conspicuous.
	Her appearance at the party somehow made the newspaper -- 
complete with pictures -- and within days she and Fred were 
besieged with invitations to masquerade parties, invariably 
accompanied by the request that Annie wear her pirate costume. 
She flatly refused. She did not like being used as a "come on." 
Fred didn't disagree with her. He even apologized for getting her 
into it in the first place.
	They managed to keep their desired low profile until an 
engraved invitation arrived announcing a charity masquerade ball. 
It was signed by Fred's boss's wife as chairperson. They were 
caught. Annie grimly wrote their acceptance note. The dance 
turned out to be much less trying than she had expected and they 
left feeling they had done their part for charity that year.
	Fred again suggested they stop for breakfast and again they 
had to wait for service. Annie played the same slot that had paid 
so handsomely before. "Just in case it remembers me," she said. 
She had just turned to leave after feeding it a tenth silver 
dollar when the bells rang and the lights flashed. She had a 
jackpot! Just to be certain that the machine's performance was 
pure coincidence, Annie stopped by twice after work the next 
week. Nothing. It behaved just like a decent slot should, and 
kept her money.
	A few weeks later she and Fred drove to the mountains for a 
Sunday afternoon. She wore the peg, knowing it would perform 
better than her regular limb, and hoping it would match her 
crutches, the only thing that had really worked in the past when 
uneven ground was involved. They stayed later than they planned 
and Fred was too hungry to wait until they got home, so they 
stopped at the restaurant once again and the slot paid off like 
it had been choked for weeks.
	Annie didn't want to admit it, but the pattern was clear. 
When she wore the peg leg, the bandit paid. When she wore her 
regular limb, it did not. The odds against a like event occurring 
three times in a row with so many variables involved were easily 
a trillion to one. The whole thing was so incredible it defied 
the imagination -- something like a black hole in space being 
less in size than a proton but possessing the mass of a large 
mountain. Control by a third party was the most likely explana-
tion. Fred thought her suspicions were totally unjustified, but 
Annie was determined to get to the bottom of it.
	It took her until the next Saturday afternoon to gather the 
courage to face the slot machine again. Once she had firmly 
decided to do it, an hour passed before she finally went to the 
bedroom and put on the peg. She pulled a pair of faded jeans over 
it and topped herself with a sloppy sweatshirt. She deliberately 
left her hair a little mussed. Attracting attention was the last 
of her wishes. 
	She had to unscrew the peg before she could get into her 
little car. She had anticipated this problem since she barely fit 
into Fred's Granada, and then with the peg struck up under the 
dash. She worked quickly in the restaurant parking lot to restore 
it before someone saw her, and she suddenly felt terribly vulner-
able without Fred. He acted as a shield against stares and un-
scheduled inquiries. She made her way to the restaurant trying 
desperately to disguise her stiff-legged gait. If anyone noticed, 
she was oblivious. She didn't even look up.
	When the slot started to pay Annie didn't know whether to 
run and hide, stand there and cry, or just watch the silver 
dollars spill out of the cup and bounce on the floor. She 
apparently chose the latter since people started picking them up 
and handing them to her. Just as she was running out of room in 
her hands a man walked up with a big plastic cup and she thanked 
him repeatedly while collecting her loot.
	"Some people have all the luck," he smiled. "I never could 
beat a slot."
	Annie regarded him suspiciously. He was in his early thir-
ties she guessed -- tall and reasonably good looking with red-
dish-brown hair just long enough to have a hint of curl. "I don't 
normally beat them," she confessed. "This one seems to like me." 
She started to the cashier and he followed.
	"Look, lady," her new friend started as she exchanged the 
silver for bills. "I produce movies and I'm sure I have a part 
for you if you'll consider it." Annie looked at him again. This 
was it! He was the one behind the plot to draw her and the one-
armed bandit together.
	"I have a few minutes," she said, delivering a calculated 
shy smile.
	"That's great," he replied, suddenly looking very pleased 
with himself. "Let's have a quick drink. It won't take long to 
explain this."
	He led the way to the lounge and chose a table. She was glad 
he hadn't gone for the squat bar since there would have been no 
place to put the stiff peg leg. Suddenly conscious of her ap-
pearance, she pulled out a comb and ran it quickly through her 
hair. His name was Jack Hallerman.
	"I'm Annie Slater," she replied.
	"I finance X-rated movies," he said, flatly. "I list myself 
as producer, but most of the time I have absolutely nothing to do 
with making them. However, I have one starting in a few days and 
I'm sure it's worth a thousand dollars to have you appear in the 
background of two or three scenes with that peg leg. The more 
unusual, the better. That's what the public wants. If you want to 
actually participate, then it's worth more, but I'd have to talk 
to the director first."
	Annie couldn't quite believe it. He had gone to all this 
trouble and expense -- no less than four hundred dollars from the 
slot machine -- to get her maneuvered into position to ask her to 
appear in a porn film. It made no sense at all. He could have 
just walked up and asked. What else did he want?
	"Loo, Mr. Hallerman," she started, brazenly. "I'm on to your 
little game and I'm sorry it's cost you so much for my answer. 
That happens to be no!"
	He didn't seem to understand. "Game?" he replied. "No game 
in this. It's strictly business. You spend an afternoon walking 
around in your birthday suit with your peg leg and you get a 
thousand dollars. And so far it hasn't cost a penny. Where's the 
waiter?"
	"Don't pretend you don't know about the slot machine," she 
challenged.
	"Slot machine? What slot machine?"
	"The one I was just playing."
	"No," he said, "I don't know about the slot machine. Tell 
me." The waiter came. Annie saw no purpose in continuing the 
exchange and started to get up.
	"Wait a minute!" he implored, half smiling. The waiter stood 
there trying to pretend he couldn't hear what was going on. "You 
seem to think I've spent some money I haven't spent and know 
something about a slot machine I know nothing about. Now I'm 
interested. What would you like to drink?"
	"Scotch," Annie retorted, falling back into the chair. She 
let herself come down so hard her peg bounced up and struck the 
table leg with a loud whack. He glanced up at the sound, but 
otherwise ignored the incident. Now she was determined to make 
him confess his part in the incredible encounter with the one-
armed bandit. "You mean you're going to sit there and tell me you 
had nothing to do with my hitting a jackpot... or close to it... 
four times in a row when I'm wearing my peg leg, and nothing when 
I'm not. Do you know what the odds are against that? Well, I'll 
tell you. It can't happen unless a third party is involved. It 
just can't happen! Too bad you had to pick a real mathematician 
to pull your trick on."
	He sat back and passed the knuckle of his left forefinger 
back and forth under his front teeth, apparently thinking. Good 
act, Annie decided. Finally he said, "I had nothing to do with 
it. I've never been in this place before today and right now I'm 
pretty sure I'll never come back. I can, however, understand how 
you came to your conclusion. I'm sorry about that." He got up and 
pulled out his billfold and dropped a business card on the table, 
followed by a five dollar bill. "Call me if you change your 
mind," he said, "and enjoy your drink." He walked out.
	The cool sonofabitch! Annie was furious. She stuffed the 
card into her bag and left, leaving the five dollars on the table 
and being careful to stay well behind him. The dirty cocksucker! 
He had to be the one! She was so upset that she tried to jam her 
peg into the little car in spite of the fact that she knew it 
would not fit. The result was predictable. It got solidly lodged 
right under the bottom hinge of the door She tried everything to 
free it but finally had to drop her pants and completely disen-
gage herself from the appliance before she could work it loose. 
Just as she was about th get herself back together, minus the peg 
leg, a slightly tipsy patron noticed the unusual activity and 
approached.
	"Get out of here!" Annie screamed. "I don't have my pants 
on!" He turned on his heels immediately and raised his hands in 
mock surrender.
	"Don't shoot, lady. I only wanted to help." He disappeared 
among the cars.
	Still angry and upset, she told Fred all about it. He lis-
tened very sympathetically until she got to the part about get-
ting her peg stuck in the car door and he had to suppress his 
laughter. This upset Annie even more and she refused to speak to 
him the rest of the day. He left early that evening saying he 
would call her tomorrow. Annie went to the bedroom and cried 
herself to sleep. It was the first time she had ever been mad at 
him and it was her fault. She felt awful.
	The next afternoon they talked about it more or less 
objectively while sitting at the edge of the pool at Annie's 
apartment. She had decided that the only way to really find out 
what was behind this whole thing with the one-armed bandit was to 
accept Hallerman's offer and take the chance that nobody would 
recognize her if they happened to see the movie. Certainly she 
was not going to find out by ignoring him. Besides, a thousand 
dollars was a bunch.
	Fred was against the whole scheme. First of all, he didn't 
believer the dude had anything to do with the slot machine. It 
was like Annie had said: he could have simply walked up and 
asked. Secondly, he didn't want her to take a chance on getting 
involved in something as shoddy as a porn film. It could have a 
lasting effect on her career if something backfired.
	Annie argued that getting paid a thousand dollars to satisfy 
her own curiosity was a sure winner. She would paint the peg red, 
put on a blonde wig and make up her face so nobody could recog-
nize her. Fred still didn't like it. They finally left it right 
there -- still disagreeing.
	On Monday she called Hallerman and apologized for her 
behavior on Saturday. He repeated that he understood why she may 
have been upset, and added that he, although not a mathematician, 
would also suspect some prankster in a similar situation. He gave 
her the director's number and promised to mail her a check for a 
thousand dollars. All she had to do was show up.
	She showed up. She wore her regular high-heel limb and 
carried the newly painted peg leg in a suitcase. The location for 
the scenes where she would appear was a large motel at the end of 
the strip. She was shown into a bedroom littered with female 
wearing apparel and told to change as quickly as possible. Hal-
lerman was not there and she began to wonder if her efforts were 
going to net any new information or, for that matter, if he had 
been involved beyond the movie at all. A knock came on the door 
followed by a voice urging her to hurry. The director was about 
to begin explaining the shooting sequence.
	She went into a large living room where ten or twelve nude 
or semi-nude people sat on chairs and couches facing the direc-
tor, two cameras and a battery of unlit stage lights. The plot 
was simple: all the kinky sex they could cram into approximately 
three hours of shooting. Whips, chains, belts, dildoes, enema 
bags, crutches, handcuffs, rings, platform shoes and chastity 
belts were passed out. The leading lady was a bouncy little blond 
with a doll-like face whose left breast was twice the size of her 
right. Her counterpart was a still young and handsome vet with 
his right hand missing from the narrowest part of his forearm, 
just above the wrist. The climax was to be when he fucks her with 
his stump. Annie's part was to walk around with a whip and gently 
punish those who did not moan and groan with sufficient intensi-
ty. She worried about the little blond -- she didn't look big 
enough.
	They were just about to turn on the lights and start when 
all hell broke loose. The doors burst open, whistles blew, people 
screamed and brown uniforms poured into the room. Annie managed 
to reach her robe and get it on in the confusion, although the 
broke the suction on the peg and nearly lost it in the process. 
The hiss of air escaping through the negative pressure valve as 
she jammed her stump back into the socket was followed by dead 
silence as everyone looked in her direction. She contrived a weak 
smile and they all returned to their business, still wondering.
	The director and cameramen were handcuffed and placed under 
arrest. Everybody else was given a citation and told to appear in 
court Monday morning. Protests about civil rights and freedom of 
expression were met with candid admission that they were probably 
right, but the D.A. had to have a test case and this was it. They 
were told to get dressed and get out.
	She marched to the bedroom with the other eight or so 
complaining women and found a corner of the bed where she could 
sit down and remove her peg. When she stood up and reached for 
her limb she immediately knew that something was wrong. It was 
too heavy. Trying not to seem disturbed (the others were asking 
how she lost her leg and why she wanted to appear in a porn 
flick) she peered into the socket. There it was, a package of 
white powder hermetically sealed in plastic.
	Panic could hardly describe what Annie felt in the next 
moments. Her first reaction was to go straight to the police who 
were still in the living room and tell them everything. Surely 
they would understand. But would they? How could she explain a 
package of heroin, or whatever it was? She was in too deep alrea-
dy. 
	"Something the matter?" the redhead next to her asked.
	"No, nothing," she said, trying to seem cheerful. She chat-
tered with the others, relating the incident with the tree while 
she tried to think. She couldn't get rid of it! If she took it 
out and tried to hide it they would see her. If she delayed and 
waited until they were all gone, they would know something was 
wrong. Wearing the peg home and leaving the limb was no good; 
everyone knows it belongs to her. She gritted her teeth and 
shoved her nub into the socket of the limb, knowing very well 
that whoever owned the package would be after it. She had never 
seen heroin or cocaine before, but she knew it had to be one or 
the other.
	"Oh," the redhead said. "That's the funny sound."
	"That's it," Annie said, following with a nervous laugh. 
"When I push my stump into the socket the air escapes through the 
valve on the side and the dumb thing just hangs on."
	"How clever," the redhead beamed. The others listened while 
she gave her little speech on the mechanics of an artificial leg. 
Annie dressed while she talked and as a result was one of the 
first to leave.
	The limb was heavy and felt like it was coming off with 
every step so she walked with a considerable limp as she went 
past the police and through the corridors of the motel, pushing 
her weight into the socket in hopes of establishing firmer con-
tact with the appendage. Her improvisations worked, but her 
altered gait bade it look like her left leg weighed a ton.
	The problem with the limb was nothing compared to the prob-
lem with what it contained. She had to get rid of it! The rest-
room. She would go into a stall and transfer the package to her 
purse, then simply drop it into a waste can at the first oppor-
tunity. She was almost at the door when the sinking feeling 
engulfed her. A man came up on her right and another appeared 
from behind on her left.
	"Just keep moving, lady," one of them said, "right down the 
hall and out to the parking lot." She complied.
	"You don't have to kidnap me," she said as they reached the 
exit. "I know what you want and I'll be more than happy to give 
it to you."
	"Not here, lady," the taller one said. "Keep quiet and don't 
make any unusual moves. We aren't going to hurt you, but we will 
have to take a little ride."
	The smaller man grabbed her by the arm and guided her into 
the back seat of a car, nearly causing her to trip. The bigger 
guy got into the front with her suitcase. Panic struck again as 
he started the car and maneuvered it out of the parking lot.
	"Look, I know what you want," she stammered. "I'll give it 
to you. Just take it and let me go." She was pleading, just 
barely holding back the tears.
	"No way," the big man said. "Think we'd push a one-legged 
lady out on the street? You'd attract more attention than Jesus 
Christ himself." He seemed disgusted with her suggestion.
	"Then I suppose you're going to kill me," she said, sounding 
both calm and resigned.
	"Nope," the little man said. "We're just going to make you 
disappear for a few hours while we get a few states away. Take it 
easy now."
	Annie could not take it easy, but she managed to stay quiet 
as they drove north out of Vegas toward Reno. She wondered what 
Fred would do when she turned up dead. She should have gone 
straight to the police. There would have been publicity about her 
being caught with drugs at the shooting of a porn flick, but now 
there would be publicity anyway. She wondered what her family 
would think of her. It got dark.
	"How did you know I was the one with the package?" she 
asked, breaking hours of silence.
	"Never mind that," the big man said. Two girls had left the 
bedroom before her. It had to be one of them. But who had put it 
there? Whoever was in the bedroom when the police arrived, of 
course. Likely it was one of the girls.
	"What is it? Heroin? Cocaine?"
	"Don't worry about that, either," he said.
	"If you'll turn your head I'll take down my pants and get it 
out," she said to the little man beside her.
	"Leave it right where it is," he ordered. "It couldn't be in 
a safer place."
	After they passed through a town whose name she could not 
make out the big man turned off the highway onto an unpaved road 
that wound among the cactus on the desert floor. Finally a dilap-
idated house appeared on the left, vividly outlined by the moon. 
Annie wondered what it felt like to have a bullet smash into your 
body. They would kill her and take the dope and that would be 
that.
	"Come on, lady," the little man said. "This is your house 
for tonight. Get in there and get that leg off." He literally 
pulled her out of the back seat and marched her to the door. "Not 
many comforts here but you'll get found tomorrow. We'll tip the 
fuzz when we're far enough away."
	They seemed to be in a hurry and that pleased her. She 
didn't want to do anything to slow them or alter their train of 
thought. She found a table and chair near the center of the room 
and dropped her pants and detached the limb.
	"The whole thing, lady," the big man said as she extracted 
the package and handed it to him.
	"You're going to take my limb too?" Annie questioned.
	"Yep," he said. "We want you to stay right here for a few 
hours."
	The little man took the limb and, incredibly, stopped in the 
doorway and pulled off the shoe, letting it drop before he ran to 
the car. Annie picked up the empty pantleg and stuffed it into 
her waistband. They were gone.

	Whether or not she had actually slept was of little concern 
when Annie realized the sun was up. She hopped to the door and 
bounced to the end of the porch to face it. The initial results 
were disappointing but she knew it was less than an hour in the 
sky. It was enough to see it and know that it would eventually 
cure her misery. She grabbed the post at the corner and lowered 
herself to the floor of the porch.
	The desert stretched endlessly in front of her, interrupted 
only by solitary cactus and outcroppings of jagged rock. Annie 
searched the horizon for signs of life -- smoke, a building, a 
car, a horse, anything. There was nothing. She shivered and felt 
an undeniable urge to move -- anything to get warmth circulating 
in her body once again.
	She kicked off the shoe and hopped back inside the house. 
She couldn't believe it! The floor was swept clean and through a 
door she could see a bed complete with pillows and blankets. She 
wasted no time in stripping the top one to wrap around her 
shoulders. There were three rooms total, all of them furnished to 
some degree. It did not appear that anyone lived in the house, 
but it was certainly capable of supporting an overnight guest. 
She investigated the cupboard in the main room and found canned 
food, bottled water, coffee, and a fresh loaf of bread. Her 
captors had not intended that she die. Further investigation 
produced cooking utensils and a coffee pot. Annie made coffee on 
a Coleman stove and warmed a small can of corned beef hash.
	Refreshed, warmer and feeling considerably more optimistic 
about her immediate future, Annie poured a second cup of coffee, 
gathered the blanket around her and hopped carefully to the 
porch. She made it without spilling a drop.
	Settled on the porch, her back against the wall, she sipped 
the coffee and allowed the sun to finish its job of restoring her 
to life. Annie dozed while the therapy worked, letting her mind 
wander between elaborate but totally unworkable plans for reach-
ing the highway and visions of Fred fighting officialdom for 
information until he finally, miraculously, pinned down her 
location and came driving up in his Granada to rescue her, the 
police following, of course. There had been times in the past 
where having only one leg had proven to be inconvenient, but now 
it downright irritated her. Anyone else would simply take off 
hiking for the highway. She didn't have a chance without crutch-
es. The heat of the sun finally penetrated her suit and the hot 
spots on her arm and thigh nudged her to consciousness.
	For the second time in less than twenty four hours, she 
found her eyes riveted to a totally unexpected sight. Thoughts 
like bear and mountain lion zipped through her mind before the 
furry creatures came into focus.
	"Burro," she cooed, rolling the 'r' slightly. He blinked at 
the sound of her voice, but held his ground. She decided he must 
be tame. He was interested in her bare foot and gave it a lick 
with a dry, scratchy tongue. She held her hand out slowly and 
when she had his attention she eased her foot to the ground. The 
burro took a tentative step toward her outreached hand.
	"Oh, you beautiful little burro," she whispered. "Wouldn't 
it make you proud to save my life?" Annie could talk to horses, 
but a little burro with a distended belly and floppy ears was a 
new challenge. "Are you a hungry burro? Do you want some water?" 
Burro took another step toward her hand and she reached to touch 
his nose. Now convinced that he was accustomed to humans she 
stood up and put her arms around his neck.  There was no way she 
could make him stay if he wanted to escape, but surely the box of 
breakfast cereal in the cupboard and some water would do nothing 
to drive him away. He seemed to enjoy the show of affection. When 
she was satisfied that he was not going to bolt and run, she sat 
down on the porch. Not wanting to startle him with her unusual 
form of ambulation, she went across the floor on hands and rear. 
At the door, she pushed herself up and hopped to the cupboard.
	Annie poured the whole box of cereal into a pan and hopped 
to the door where she hesitated watching for his reaction. Seem-
ingly expecting some sort of service, he stood his ground. She 
hopped very slowly toward him and placed the pan at the edge of 
the porch.
	"Eat it, burro," she cooed. "It's good." Burro apparently 
didn't recognize it as edible so Annie picked up the pan and 
stuck it under his nose. This got his attention and he sniffed 
it. That was all it took and she put the pan back on the porch 
and returned carefully to the cupboard.
	She found a small bucket and filled it with the bottled 
water. It was too heavy to hop with, so she placed it on the 
floor, took a couple of short hops forward, and then heaved it 
into position for the next advance. In this manner she moved it 
slowly to the porch. Burro was delighted and emptied it quickly. 
Annie returned to the house and repeated the process. This time 
she delayed long enough to make a cursory search for a rope but 
she found nothing. She wanted Burro to stay just long enough for 
her to collect some food and water and get on his small but 
sturdy back. He seemed content with the second pail of water.
	Inside she made a sack from a towel and loaded it with small 
cans of meat, a package of crackers and the loaf of bread. She 
found a thermos and filled it with water. Before she knew it the 
sack was too small so she used the blanket that had warmed her 
earlier in the morning. The highway could be more than two or 
three miles; it had seemed a very short trip over the bumpy road 
the night before.
	Burro was still at the edge of the porch as Annie dropped 
her pack and collected her shoes -- both of them -- and added 
them to its contents. Burro knew something was coming and backed 
slowly away. She sat down and started talking to him very softly, 
coaxing him back to her hand. He was still suspicious as she 
worked her way to his side, going heel to toe, hoping desperately 
not to startle him. With a little push from her right leg she 
slipped onto his back. He did not seem disturbed by her weight so 
she leaned toward the porch and pulled the bundle up, arranging 
it on his rump. Without enthusiasm, he responded to her urging 
and moved toward the rocky road. that would lead them to the 
highway.
	Burro seemed to know what was wanted, but his attention span 
was incredibly short and they detoured frequently so he could 
investigate desert curiosities. Annie did a virtual dance on his 
back trying to avoid the cactus he habitually encountered o these 
forays off the road. More than once she felt the bite of the 
yucca and she had to hold up her foot to keep it out of the 
barrel cactus. To add to her problems, the empty pantleg kept 
working its way out of her waistband. Burro stepped on it once 
and almost dismounted her.
	By eleven o'clock she was hot, tired and thirsty. She guided 
Burro to the shade of an uncommonly large boulder and slipped to 
the ground. Gripping his mane tightly with one hand, she managed 
to open the loaf of bread with the other and feed it to him a 
slice at a time. Losing him now would be an absolute disaster.
	Burro seemed to know something about her. When she took 
little hops to maintain her balance, he moved to close the gap 
between them as if pledging his continued support. It was not 
possible that he knew she could not reach the highway on her own. 
Still, he crowded her left side. Maybe he sensed some deficiency 
there. It was curious. She remounted Burro and ate crackers as 
they wound through the cactus back to the road.
	She had started thinking about Fred the night before, but 
the cold had driven away any hopes of being able to concentrate. 
What would he have done when she failed to return from the motel? 
She knew exactly. He would have waited a prudent time and then 
gone to the motel to look for her. There he would find her car, 
so he would ask questions. When he got no answers he would really 
get worried and go to the police. They, however, would probably 
not get excited without firmer evidence that she had indeed been 
kidnapped.
	Right now, he would still be worrying unless her captors had 
already told the police where to find her. They had said, "a few 
states away," whatever that meant. What would she do when she 
reached the highway? If there was any chance Fred had not gone to 
the police, she would keep the whole thing a secret -- from 
everybody but him. Otherwise she would have to tell all. Maybe a 
lawyer could help keep it quiet. She decided that calling Fred 
would have to be the first step. She still had her purse and 
money. She would get somebody to buy her a pair of crutches.
	It occurred to her that she was no closer to solving the 
riddle of the one-armed bandit's behavior. In fact, she was 
farther away. Hallerman would have been at the movie scene if he 
wanted more from her. She should have listened to Fred.
	The highway suddenly appeared as a smooth ribbon winding its 
way across the baked desert. Annie's eyes filled with tears and 
she made no attempt to hold them back. She praised burro repeat-
edly, telling him what an outstanding little hero he was, all the 
time urging him on toward the highway. He plodded dutifully on 
until the sound of the occasional traffic reached them, then he 
got a little skittish. Annie hugged him around the neck until he 
settled and decided to trust her, but it didn't last very long. 
He finally couldn't take it any more and dumped her on the sand, 
bucking back and lurching left. He knew exactly what to do. No 
other move could have dislodged her so easily.
	The sudden turn of events did not upset her. She had less 
than the length of a football field to go. Burro had performed 
beautifully. He had retreated behind the closest pile of rocks 
and cactus, so Annie tore open the loaf of bread and spread the 
few remaining pieces on the blanket. She picked up her shoes and 
cradled the thermos in her purse and started hopping toward the 
highway.

	Fred was a strange mixture of anxiety and anger when he met 
her at the airport in Vegas. She answered more questions for him 
in less time than she had for the Reno police. A flabbergasted 
rancher and his wife had picked her up and taken her to a truck 
stop where she called Fred and learned the police already knew of 
her disappearance. Fred was relieved, of course, and they decided 
it would be best for her to call the Highway Patrol, tell them 
her story and get their assistance in getting some crutches so 
she could get to the airport. He would call a lawyer for her.
	She had already dropped her dime in the phone when two Reno 
policemen walked in. She was on the outskirts of the city and the 
area was patrolled by them. They listened to her story in total 
disbelief. One of them insisted on carrying her to the car, not 
believing that she could hop that far, and they took her downtown 
where more police listened in total disbelief. They finally 
called Las Vegas and confirmed that she had indeed been reported 
missing. One of them went out and bought her a pair of crutches 
and they gave her a ride to the airport.
	Finally satisfied that she was all right, Fred took her 
home, cooked dinner for her, made her lay in a hot tub for thirty 
minutes and generally waited on her hand and foot for the rest of 
the evening.
	"I'm not sick, Fred," she protested. "I'm just tired."
	"I know," he said. "How about a drink or two. It'll help 
relax you." The drinks did it. She went to sleep on the couch and 
woke up in bed late the next morning, not remembering how she got 
there. Fred came in at her first sound. He had spent the night on 
the couch.
	"How do you feel?" he smiled.
	"Wonderful," came her sleepy reply. She opened the covers 
and invited him in. "When I thought I was dead for sure I found 
myself worrying about you. Does that mean anything?"
	"I hope so," he said. He started nibbling at her neck. She 
searched his ear with her tongue.
	"I really should have listened to you. Now I'm sorry I 
didn't." He pinched her right nipple gently and she shuddered. 
"Will the lawyer keep me out of the papers?"
	"He'll keep you out of the papers," he replied. He shifted 
left and straddled her nub. "Saturday night, when I first 
realized something terrible could have happened to you, I gave 
myself a severe ass-kicking for not being more concerned in the 
first place." She could feel his erection growing.
	"I love you, Fred," she whispered. He darted his tongue 
between her teeth. They shared a long kiss before he continued.
	"Well, I really do fucking love you too," he said. "It's no 
longer just a pleasant and convenient relationship. I'm hooked." 
Annie ran her fingers through his hair and down the back of his 
neck; her palms started a rhythmic massage of his back. He sucked 
her left nipple into his mouth and gave it a generous munching.
	"Should we try living together for awhile?" she breathed. 
His erection was huge against her stump. He shifted left again 
and probed gently until he found the right angle. Then he entered 
her.
	"Might be a good idea," he whispered.
	"My God!" Annie gasped. "Feels like you stuck your whole leg 
in!"
	"I did," he said. "With my three and your one we make a 
perfect couple."
	Fred was in rare form that morning. He was larger than she 
could remember and he made love with a fierce intensity that made 
her forget the terrors of the past two days, and concentrate 
totally on their physical pleasure. Her efforts aided and they 
climaxed with the longest orgasm she had ever experienced.
	"My God, Fred," she whispered. "That was absolutely mar-
velous." Then, as their breathing subsided, she teased, "You've 
been practicing without me." Fred responded by tickling her and 
she tickled back until they rolled winded on the floor.
	"You're late for work," he remarked absently.
	"So are you," she said. "Did you call?"
	"I called for both of us," he confessed. He slipped down 
between her legs and took her stump in both hands, nibbling the 
end. This not only tickled, sending shivers through her body, it 
rendered her helpless, and he knew it.
	"Marry me!" he teased as she struggled to get free.
	"Not fair," she squealed. "I promise! I promise..." he let 
go "...to think very hard about it."
	"Okay," he agreed, but not before one more gentle nibble 
that produced the characteristic squeal.
	Annie and Fred did not get married. They did, however, move 
into a large apartment together, and before they knew it, were 
acting exactly like all the other married couples around them. 
She never did get her limb and peg leg back, but the lawyer 
persuaded Hallerman to up Annie's "show up" money enough to cover 
the price of a new appendage for high heels.
	At Annie's insistence, they went back to the site of her 
overnight captivity to search for Burro. They spent the whole 
day, but found no trace of him. This disappointed her. As it 
turned out, she would have spent at least two more days in the 
old house. Her captors sent a post card to the Las Vegas police 
from Wyoming. She had wanted to thank Burro for his devoted 
service and had loaded the car with goodies that burros eat, plus 
a loaf of wheat bread and a box of breakfast cereal and, of 
course, water.
	More than a year later they returned to the restaurant, 
almost without thinking about its role in the adventure. Annie 
looked for the row of slots, not intending to play them, certain-
ly, but curious just the same. She was surprised to find them 
replaced by a new, flashier model. On their way out, she casually 
asked the cashier what had happened to the old ones.
	"The manager traded them in on the new ones," came the 
answer, "all except one. I'll never forget that one. He sold it 
to a couple from Chicago. They were here on vacation and the wife 
couldn't win a thing anywhere except on that one slot machine. 
They wanted it as a souvenir so the boss sold it to them. She was 
a cute little brunette... looked a lot like you, but she only had 
one leg. Wore a peg leg in place of the missing one."
	"That's interesting," Annie replied. She glanced at Fred and 
saw the confusion on his face, then started for the door, being 
extra careful to disguise her limp. They never spoke about it 
again.

	THE END