Choices -- Part 1 - The Relocation

Mt. Washington - Highest mountain in New England

Dear Readers:

            I have had a couple of story requests. One is a testimony to how I came to leave Ohio and why New Hampshire was my destination. Another story is about how Daniel and I met and became a pair. These stories are near and dear to my heart ... no matter how frustrating change and new can be. The following story, Part 1, is about why I left Ohio. Part 2 (to follow in a couple of weeks) will tell how Daniel and I met one very cold and snowy January here in New England.

          These stories warm my cockles ... other than when Daniel fires up the chainsaw to cut more firewood for our home’s woodstove. Mostly true, these stories. Enjoy!

Choices

by

© B.D. Adams

Part 1 – The Relocation

            It was the best of times ... it was the worst of times *¹. Columbus, Ohio ... the years were 1997 through 2002! This was the time of the early days of traveling on the “Information Superhighway” ... the Internet ... and, before my stroke.

            The Internet was a new tool for business and wicked fun to meet new people all over the world, literally! Thankfully, I had a few local people who gave pointers about the Internet for advertising purposes for my boss’s photography business. I began to learn about it, but it was a vexing process.

My boss, D.R. Goff, had begun to formulate his decision to move, “pseudo-retire,” to New Mexico, a place he really loved. We had known each other for several years and worked together for a while and had a “good” work relationship ... I would miss him (he moved in 1999). I grew up in Texas and had no desire to move to New Mexico. The four seasons had a better meaning for me, other than a 1960’s music group! My goal, more than anything before he left, was to help him into the new Internet genre with my neophyte ability.

            In the beginning days of “surfing,” there was a lot of hard searching for any specific needle through all that straw. I came across a few legitimate “surfers” who actually helped my searches. Quite surprisingly, I met Becky from New Hampshire in a “chat room” (along with a few other ladies from NH).  We became friends. Becky gave me good advice and helped with some Internet networking. The other women only wanted to “play.”

            Since I met these new “friends” on-line, I resolved to visit New Hampshire ... had never been there before. It was February, 1998. Flew into Boston’s Logan Airport, rented a car to drive to Becky’s home in Madbury, NH (yes, the town’s name is Madbury). I drove because she couldn’t get off from her job on this Friday (neither could the other women) to come to the airport. More than anything, though, I wanted to scope what it was really like in New England! Lucky for me, there was no snow!

Away from the big city, I was smitten with the beauty ... trees, very tall trees and lakes everywhere! I could really imagine the trees in the summer, with all their leaves! DR had his deserts ... I loved green forests! Even with the bare trees, there were still a lot of beautiful trees ... the Evergreen Trees and Pine Trees. Not like in Columbus ... very winter gray.

I drove into Becky’s driveway and her quaint home appealed to me. It was a single-story house, dated from the 1870s. The land around her house had been an apple orchard ... the twisted branches of the round topped trees said this. A quaint home and was everything I had read about colonial style, complete with a wood-stove for warmth. I liked her home! Becky and I had both recently been divorced and boasted one son each (mine was a bit older) ... there was a lot in common!

We all met at another woman’s house (this one wasn’t as quaint), and then we went to supper at a nice restaurant that specialized in seafood. The waitress, who served us, used Becky’s point-&-shoot camera to take a photo of us together. It was so great to meet the women I had only known in the chat room, and I saw that Becky was the same person as she was on-line ... no nasty surprises!

            My visit to NH was short, but I promised that I would visit again, soon!! However, the next visit was postponed for several years. As fate would have it, I had the hemorrhagic stroke on June 14, 1998. My right side was totally affected with degrees of paralysis. (This is just a fact ... not a sympathy grabber.)

            Becky called me at the hospital a few times to check on me, to encourage me to get well. Her calls were welcomed, as were all the visitors I had had.

After being released from the hospital, I welcomed being back into my apartment in German Village in Columbus (an urban neighborhood). Becky called a few times to talk about me moving into her home in New Hampshire! I was very tempted, but I always was a very feisty person ... I loved my independence ... no matter how hard it was! I couldn’t drive ... could only walk with my cane and catch a city bus to go to doctors’ visits. I didn’t want her or anyone else to cart me around because I couldn’t drive. Becky insisted that she wouldn’t mind driving me around. I was the one who minded.

In the early renaissance of my new life, my first bit of independence was to buy an adult tricycle with my last tax refund (not a motor-trike). I used to ride it to go to the Laundromat and to get my groceries at the Big Bear store in German Village. Even this minor piece of independence felt delightful!

I just wanted to prove to others, and to myself, that I was not totally dependent! To show the stroke gremlins that I was better than they were!

            Jacob, my son, had been a dutiful son! He was living in New York, on Long Island, and came to Columbus, a few extended times, to “help” me. I had to shoo him back to NYC, each time, to prove that I could take care of myself.

            With my determination, I managed to get a job with Cord Camera Store ... cameras and accessories. I would ride a bus to and from work, which was rather tedious (too far to ride my trike). I did all I could do to regain my previous life. I was a good salesperson, I knew the equipment, but the gremlins stood in my way, no matter.

By 2000, I was able to start “driving therapy” at Ohio State University’s Hospital Out-Patient Clinic (different from the hospital when I had the stroke). My ex-husband, who I moved in with again (which turned out to be a mistake ... again), took me to the sessions. I was able to gain back the epitome of independence, as I relearned how to drive! The therapy car was equipped with a left foot accelerator adapter attached to the floor. Also, a “spinner knob” on the steering wheel made it easier to steer, one handed. I bought a used, automatic shift, funky blue 1988 Pontiac Sunbird and had this equipment fitted onto the car. Now, I really had freedom!!!!

I was able to drive again, so I pushed myself to handle my cameras. I wanted do some photography. However, because of my physical disabilities, lifting camera equipment was wicked hard, as well as using only one hand  ... and walking was no easier. I had oodles of physical therapy, but after a fashion, results were marginal. I attempted to do some photography ... shot a couple of weddings (not the receptions, though). My life had definitely changed! I was not as fast or spontaneous as before. I was still as creative, but not to the standard I had always aspired!

            It just seemed, the more I tried to come off as a regular person, the more I failed. The fact was that I appeared no where near regular or “normal.” The disability was too noticeable. Many people I knew kept comparing me to their great Aunt Maude or old cousin Harry, who were stroked ... bedridden or in a wheelchair ... “aren’t you glad you are not like that?” Most conversations with former photo friends always headed away from our vocations ... their vocations. Just a pat or two on my round head, and then they would send me on my way. I was not bedridden, but my physical appearance did not help my attempt to show the world that “I am really all right.” A lot of compassion, but not much true sincerity. Oh, those dastardly gremlins!

            This was when you learned who your true friends were! DR was one, along with Tom Etter and Heiderose Forby ... all with photography. I am still in touch with these folks!

            Becky and I continued our on-line friendship. We talked via the phone a few times and she kept

with her suggestion that I should move to NH.

            With all things considered ... the weather in New England and current personal circumstances (my ex-husband had become as big a jerk as when he was drinking) ... I decided I needed a change, if only for location!! Becky and I planned my move ... my adventure to New Hampshire ... those beautiful forests! 

            I wasn’t able to rig-up a trailer on my used car, so I just packed everything I could into the spacious trunk and the passenger seat and backseat; all of my cherished knick-knacks and bone china, some clothes, framed photos, boxes of negatives and slides, my camera equipment, etc.

            I bought and hooked up a bicycle carrier to attach my trike to the trunk of my car. Last, but not least, I positioned the large birdcage with George and Gracie, two parakeets, on the backseat. I had had them for a long while and couldn’t part with them. These birds were rather scared and nervous with what they experienced! However, they were survivors, just like me.

All of my furniture remained in the dubious care of my ex-husband! If he sold everything, I hoped he made some money.

So, on a Thursday in April, 2002, I began the drive with my puddle-jumper (my old car) to Madbury, New Hampshire. I was so psyched for this trip ... kind of like the song “America” by Simon & Garfunkel. I would be discovering a new way of life!

From Columbus to New Jersey, it was uneventful. That evening (not good with night-vision), I stopped at a Days Inn in New Jersey. I was tired, but not horribly so! I made sure the bird’s cage was well covered for the night. It wasn’t expected to be a very cold night, but I wanted my little birds to be as comfortable as possible.

I checked in and used my new AARP Card (I was over 50) to get my deserved discount for the room. Then, once in the room, I called Becky on my cell to let her know the status of the trip. She said she was glad that I stopped and to enjoy my supper. That completed, I went to the motel’s nice restaurant. What a thrill ... I was by myself and dined quietly on Shrimp Scampi with a glass of wine!

Back in the room, I dressed for bed, crawled under the covers and turned on the TV. I watched CSI, I believe, but became sleepy, so I ended the TV and zonked out!

Slept well ... impatient to get going this early morrow! I thought of another song about traveling ... “On The Road Again!” Not really a Willie Nelson fan, but the song filled the bill.

To get through the smidgeon of New York City, however, was the biggest hurdle! So much road construction ... so many unmarked detours! After a few gas station stops to get directions, I finally made it to I-95 north; to Connecticut to Massachusetts and then to Rte. 16 in NH. I was now almost there!!

It was around 3:00pm, that Friday afternoon, when I pulled into Becky’s driveway!! She was able to take off this Friday, so she ran outside, with her boyfriend, to greet me with warm hugs and huge smiles! We both were so glad to see each other we had silly giggles and tears with our happiness!!

It took four years to make this permanent relocation, but I have been so glad I did.

*¹  A Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens

The other happiness about New Hampshire will be included in a few weeks. Part 2 ... how I met Daniel. Until then ... take care, all!!!

Sock-hat and Walking Stick

Sock-hat and Walking Stick

by

B.D. Adams © 2011

            Becky drove her vintage Karmann-Ghia down the country road she had always taken to just ... relax or think. Her new boss had given her more work-load than she needed or wanted. She almost felt his intension was to punish her ... get her to quit!
           “Over my dead body,” she said out loud to the steering wheel. Some co-workers were scheduled to come to her condo this Saturday afternoon to plan strategy ... she wasn’t the only whipping boy (girl)!
           She approached the rugged road she had always mentally debated about checking out ... she decided today was the day. She needed fresh air. The entrance was not all that easily seen, but she parked in the small clearing just off the main road. Even this close to modern reality, she felt that this was a good idea. She would walk for only a few minutes.
           As she ambled along that “road less taken,” Becky breathed deeply ... a cleansing breath. This was a beautiful, crisp autumn afternoon on an overgrown, rutted road ... no pavement, no telephone wires ... only stone fences and large oak trees of orange and yellow colors. She knew this type of road was not what Frost had referred to in his poem, but ... it seemed to fit today.
           No heavy coat for Becky today. She wore her forest green, bulky knit sweater and the blue jeans that fit so well. For this walk, her leather, low-top hiking shoes with thick socks were perfect. The breeze made her short, brown hair dance with the momentary gusts, which thrilled her, for some reason. The autumn leaves skirted the ground with all colors by her steps or by the breeze.
            She had always been active ... walking, canoeing, tennis. She was middle-aged and did what she did out of enjoyment, and not just to keep slender.
           Becky had strolled for several yards and approached a curve in the narrow road. Before she was at the center of the bend, she discerned that someone was coming towards her; a man ... almost dressed like her and used a walking stick. He was comfortably taller than her and appeared to be of a healthy build, as well. The sock-hat he wore allowed some of his blonde hair to peak out. He wore lace-up boots that appeared to have walked many more miles than her shoes. As he came closer, Becky thought she saw him smile a bit. She did not know him.
           Her first impression ... her first fear ... was that he might try to hurt her! There was really no where to run ... no house or other protection! What to do?! Her heart began to beat heavily and fast!
           Becky moved more to the right of the road, where she had been walking. She wanted to give him ... space.
           Before she got even with the man, he sat wearily on the stone fence on his side. While he sat, he let out an exhausted sound, but smiled a very sincere smile. The walking stick rested against him.
           “Good afternoon,” the man greeted. His blue eyes were clear and kind.
           “Good afternoon,” Becky returned and decided that if he was a sex-offender, he was a
new breed.
            “Ahhhhh ... we don’t get these beautiful days often enough in the autumn, do we,” the man suggested, as he breathed in the good air. His voice sounded mature, but with a young lilt.
           “That’s a fact,” Becky returned. She couldn’t help but to smile to this man ... he seemed
to bring it out of her.
           She was able to see down the road ... both ways ... from her vantage point. This made
her feel a little more secure ... there was nobody else.
            Because she was a little tired from her walk, Becky sat on her stone wall across from him. She still felt a bit cautious of this fellow.
            “Do you walk this road often?” Becky inquired.
           The man scratched his chin, as he thought, and then answered, “Not as often as I’d like.”
            Becky frowned a little, as she asked, “Why’s that?”
            “Oh ... politics,” he said with a wink.
            Politics ... Becky thought ... that’s a strange reason!
           “Yes ... it is,” he answered to her.
            With his unusual response, Becky felt cautious again. She asked him, “Do you read
minds?” She was now leery of his motives, but remained seated on the stone wall.
            The man gave out a heart-felt laugh and smiled even more broadly. “Your eyes gave me a clue,” he admitted.
            Becky decided to believe him. She smiled a small embarrassed smile.
            “Where does this road go?” Becky asked.
            The man gave her a curious look, as he asked, “Where do you want it to go?” He was very precise in his question.
            Becky slightly raised her eyebrows, as she asked, “What does that mean?”
            The man looked to her without wanting any further explanation, as he said, “Life is one choice after another ... good or bad. We do what we can to get by, or we exceed! To exceed is the key here.” He added this as an aside, “ ... as with a job ... life or death.”
            “What are you getting at?” Becky inquired. She had become a bit perturbed.
            The man removed his sock-hat and softly laid it on his knee, as he asked, “Becky ... what do you see down that road?” He pointed to his left, the direction he had come.
            She looked to where he pointed ... she saw a dark, nothingness. “Isn’t that the direction you came? Why is it now so dark down that way,” Becky asked a little confused. Then, she realized he had called her by name, she calmly demanded, “How do you know my name?”
            “Yes, it is,” he responded. “You’ll learn soon how I know your name.”
            She looked overhead to determine the time of day. The sky was still bright, but when she looked again down the road ... the road she hadn’t yet traveled ... it was dark!
           “Who are you? What’s your name?” she finally asked.
            He gave her a knowing look ... he knew that she really knew him. All he said was, “Gabe.”
            “Gabe,” Becky echoed. She did already know ... for some reason, she knew.
            “You still need to finish your journey ... if you want,” Gabe instructed to her.
            “If I want ... what’s going on?” Becky asked very confused. She hadn’t yet looked down the road she had come, but now ... she did.
            She saw brightness, with a bit of vignetting around the edges ... like in a photograph. She shaded her eyes to better discern what she saw. There was a car (one she didn’t recog-nize), which had hit a power pole. Several people scurried around to try to help ... someone. A man (she didn’t know) sat on the curb while a policeman stood near, as he took notes.
            She looked to Gabe and asked, “What is this? What does it mean?”
            “Look closer and tell me what you recognize,” Gabe suggested. His smile had waned ... he was now more serious.
            As she squinted, Becky looked again.
            “My God,” she quietly stated. “I live near there ... I go to the little store for things sometimes.” Then, as she really looked at the scene, she felt a tugging at her arm! Someone lay in the street ... near the car she didn’t know ... someone pulled that person’s arm. EMT Techs attended the person.
             The person was a woman, who wore a forest green, bulky knit sweater!!
             “NO!!” Becky screamed, as she brought her hands to her mouth. She watched more as it became apparent that the man on the curb was drunk and the car was his. He had hit Becky!!!
             “Gabe ... am I going to die? Am I already dead? Is that why I don’t feel any pain?” Her tears flowed with her surprise and her feeling of helplessness!
             “Becky ... really feel inside your self. Do you want to die or would you rather continue your journey ... known or unknown?” He watched her intently. “If you go back ... you might die ... but, you could continue with the road you had been traveling.” He motioned to the unknown road, and continued, “This direction ... will be a risk ... not all that familiar. This is an Angel decision that some of us wanted for you! You could touch many other lives before your journey is completed. By yourself, you have seemed to choose the more challenging roads ... you have been one of the few we guide. And ... please do not ask why.” Gabe grinned, but seriously added, “This guidance has to be your decision.”
            This had to be the hardest decision she had ever been asked to make! Should she go with what she had seen ... possibly be already dead? Or, should she risk the unknown?
            “If I choose the dark road, will it go back to before I’m hit ... will I remember meeting you and all that I’ve seen?” Becky looked at Gabe with pleading eyes. Could he help with her decision? Her tears had ended.
            Gabe shook his head and said, “I’ve told you all I can. It’s totally up to you.”
            “Politics ... right,” Becky said. She wasn’t nasty to the Angel, just stated a fact.
            Gabe sighed slightly and nodded his head.
            “Since I’ve been given this choice ... is it really a punishment?”
            Gabe smiled his sincere smile, and confirmed, “No ... not a punishment. I can answer that question.”
            As Becky looked down the road again at the accident ... it seemed that the image became darker. She figured that she should get the lead out and make her decision!
            The road she had been traveling had been going pretty well, except for the new boss. However, if the new road could give her a better direction ... a risk is not always a bad thing. Too bad this wasn’t the Genie with the three wishes ... she smiled to herself.
            She did not want to die yet, which was a possible scenario ... she wanted to live and try to do more with her life, which had always been her motivation ... now or before!
            “Becky,” Gabe called to her, “You need to make a choice.”
            She closed her eyes to get inspiration from the dark. After a moment, a stronger breeze stirred ... as it kicked up dust that kept her eyes closed a little bit longer. When she opened her eyes, Gabe was gone! She looked both ways down the road and everything was as before ... but, no Gabe. She hurried to the wall where he had sat and looked over it. Still ... no Gabe.
            “A day-dream?” Becky wondered to herself. She decided she needed more sleep at night. This incident gave her a slight chill.
            It had to be getting late ... the people would be at her home soon. She high-tailed it back to her car, and then mildly sprinted back to her neighborhood. When she got to the corner store, to pick up a few snacks, a car was parked in front of the store, so she parked across the street ... same side as the store.
           Once she had paid for her purchases, she stood just outside the store to adjust an item in her paper bag, so she remained on the step.
           Instantly, there was a car that careened off the street ... jumped the curb ... toward her!! It was like the driver made a bad right turn!! The car crashed into the power pole ... where she would have been if she hadn’t delayed!!
            Becky stood petrified!! She just stared at the car, as the store owner came out to see
what had happened!
            “Becky ... Becky! Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Stan, the owner, asked frantically. He
took her paper bag and set it on the step by her feet.
            She just stood calmly and said quietly, “I’m fine.”
            “My God ... you must have an Angel!” Stan said nervously, albeit happily.
           There was a lot of commotion ... the police had begun to arrive. As she said, for the twentieth time, that she was fine ... she was not hurt ... she realized this was the day-dream, but different! She wasn’t flat on the sidewalk!
            At that curious moment, Becky glanced across the street to the house at that corner. It was a Tudor-styled house that had a stone fence surrounding it.
           A man sat on the stone fence, who had on worn, laced boots and had a walking stick that leaned against him. His blonde hair peaked out from his sock-hat. The man gave her a sincere smile, and then casually stood with his stick and walked down the other street.

 Choices ... always choices!!

Billiards

The Pool Shark and the Miss

by

Bill Ferullo

© 2011

A shark walked in, one night, to make

An easy mark ... someone to take!

He saw a young miss to his right

And asked her for a game that night!

The miss nodded yes and watched, as there

He set things up to win his dare.

She took his challenge, with his devil-may-care,

And, before his eyes

She won, to both ... a big surprise!!

*********************************************************************************
 

The Rolling 8 Ball

by

B.D. Adams

© 2011

     It was almost the end of another brutal winter in Columbus, Ohio ... March of 1971. Snow was still prevalent against the buildings, but not as much as the week before. Boots were still the footwear. You could smell the coming Spring ... but, why should it take so long to happen?!
     It was late Friday evening. Toni had taken the city bus to the downtown to meet her boyfriend, Adam. They worked together in a large stereo/electronics store and usually rode to and from work daily. Adam was a Junior Manager and was attending yet another Friday evening manager’s meeting! The pair planned to meet around eight-ish, for drinks and dinner. Since she was twenty-one, she was legal for drink. It was now close to 7 o’clock. If she would have taken the bus after the one she took, she would have been too cramped for time. And now, they could play some pool before dinner ... if Adam finished his manager’s meeting early enough.
     Toni had left the store earlier to do her own “bookwork.” She had asked her mom to borrow some money for books she needed for a new college class, so she hoped there was a check in her mail. The check was there, she high-tailed it to the bank to cash it and was so surprised about how much extra money there was after she did her shopping at the book store! Her mom always gave more than needed.
     Because of the extra cash, Toni wanted to take Adam out to dinner after his meeting. That meant they’d go to The Clock Restaurant, around the corner from the store. This was a venerable establishment, which included the Pool Hall above the restaurant, with all kinds of history. The food was tasty and the prices weren’t bad for a night out. Adam and Toni hadn’t become “regulars,” but they weren’t far from that description. They had become friendly with a few of the regulars and always enjoyed their conversations.
     Anyway, Toni got off the bus at Spring Street ... right in front of the Clock Restaurant. As she exited the bus, she was hit in the face with a biting, cold breeze! All she did was to hold her coat better closed at her neck, and then cringed and shivered!
     “I shoulda stayed at home ... order a pizza,” Toni mumbled.
     She was about to enter the Restaurant ... enter to that warmth ... when she decided to go to the door for the stairs that went up to The Clock Billiards. She could wait there for Adam in relative quiet with jazz music playing from the tape player the pool hall’s manager bought from Adam. She decided it would be so nice to have a quiet drink of Drambuie, while she watched some good pool players.
     She didn’t run up the stairs, but once she was at the Billiards door, she entered quickly ... if for no other reason, because it was wicked cold this evening!
     Toni walked briskly to the bar, and before she gave her order to Jack, the bartender, he placed a tumbler glass in front of her, which made her smile to him. Jack already knew that she’d want the Drambuie. He was so right!
     After she took a soothing sip, she shed her coat and placed it on the back of the chair-backed bar stool. Her sock-cap came off to be stuffed in a pocket of her coat. She slightly shook her auburn hair to make it lay on her shoulders. It was nice and warm in here.
     She really enjoyed this pool hall! It was the entire width and length of the building. Concrete pillars, a foot round, held the ceiling and the other two floors from crashing down! Old paneling was really the only decoration with the cue racks, spaced exactly on the walls. The light brown carpeting was stained, but thank goodness, it didn’t stink. The only constant smell was from the cigarettes and cigars, which always bothered her!
     The hall had been in existence since the 1800s and had been the venue for several tournaments over the years, of which a few she and Adam had attended. There were a few people at the bar this evening, who were just talking, or just drinking ... a few players were at the regulation tables and a couple of guys at the snooker table. She had had a very hard time to understand that table!
     When she and Adam began to date, he introduced her not only to Drambuie, but to the game of pool. This was definitely an acquired taste of a game, which became tasty to her. She had not gotten to the point of wanting to play strangers because ... let’s face it ... she was a novice. She had beaten Adam once ... he accidentally sank the eight ball. However, a win was a win ... as he kept saying to calm his self-anger. Sometime, she knew she would win legitimately!
     Toni had become comfortable with her drink, so she just sat on the bar stool to watch all the players. One fellow was just “shooting around” ... playing by himself. He spoke with other players, but he remained alone. She had seen him before at the hall and was pretty sure he was a pro ... a shark. There always seemed to be a hundred dollar bill on the edge of the table ... that meant high stakes. She stopped watching him because he kept looking at her. He made her nervous ... he was too good for her and she knew it.
     Toni continued to nurse the drink Jack had given her. The table she turned her attention to had become intriguing. The older men, who were playing, were doing what she could only call trick shots. Great shots!
    “They’re good,” the one man pointed out. He had come to the bar for a fresh drink. He stood a bit behind her ... at another bar stool.
     “Excuse me?” Toni asked, startled a bit.
     “You’re watchin’ a couple of pros ... they like to show off,” the man stated. He grinned to her with his steely blue eyes. The man was about as tall as Adam, but more lanky. “Sid ... my name’s Sid.” He offered to shake her hand with a weathered, bony hand.
     “Toni,” she offered in turn. She gave her hand to shake his bony fingers. She smiled calmly, but returned her attention to the players she had been watching.
     She didn’t want to talk to Sid. To her, he appeared to be a mobster ... dressed in all black ... black trousers, turtle-neck sweater and black, pointed-toe cowboy boots. Definitely not her type. She took a larger sip of her drink, which finished it.
     The small crowd, who had been enjoying the trick shots, voiced their approval of one shot that Toni saw and approved, as well!
     “Do you play?” Sid quietly inquired. He combed his fingers through his grayed, styled hair, after he lighted a cigarette, while he awaited his drink.
     Toni turned slightly to deliver her answer, which was, “A little.” She was still amazed with the two men, as they continued their pool “lesson.”
     After a moment, Toni realized that Jack had placed a fresh glass of Drambuie at her elbow. She gave him a quizzical look.
     He just tilted his head to Sid, and then went to another patron.
     Toni didn’t want to turn down the fresh drink, so she smiled to Sid and said, “This might
sound like a line ... I am waiting for someone. But, thanks for the drink.” She raised her glass to
him before she took a sip.
     “Just buyin’ a pretty gal a drink,” Sid said with a grin. He raised his glass in turn to her. He took a gulp of his Scotch and soda and watched the table with the others.
     There was another remarkable shot and applause broke out through the crowd! The
entertainers had finished their “game,” and the on-lookers dispersed to other tables.
     Toni turned to face the bar and to better sip the drink Sid had gotten for her.
     Sid smoked his cigarette, and then acted like he was about to say something to her, but thought better of it.
     She saw his action and became curious.
     “Did you want to say something?” she queried.
     “Aww ... nothin’ really.” Sid sipped his drink, this time, took a drag of his smoke, and then asked, “Would you like to play? Just until your “someone” shows up.” Sid grinned to her.
     Toni had now a few belts and she felt ... daring. She surveyed this mobster’s face and decided ... what the hey. She ambled off the bar stool to go select a cue ... she knew how to roll the bar stick on a table to see if it was too warped or a good-enough-cue. She found one that would be just fine.
     Sid racked the balls for a game of 8 Ball and sat in one of the high chairs by the table. He casually motioned for Toni to break, which she did. A decent break, but it could have been better. She made a mental note to work more on the breaks.
     Two balls ... a solid and a stripe ... sank on the break. None of the other balls were in good positions for another shot, but she decided to try one of her newly learned bank shots on a solid colored ball (the #7 ball). This would be a bank shot on a side pocket ... and to her surprise ... she made it (now, she would only shoot at solid balls)! She knew she shouldn’t smile at this accomplished strike, but she couldn’t help it ... she smiled like a Cheshire Cat!
     Sid smiled at her through a veil of smoke. He knew he had a pigeon.
     Toni began to study the table for her next shot. Her next shot was a straight-in to a corner pocket, which she made with ease. She couldn’t wait to tell Adam about all this!
     Sid watched her with interest, as he began to chalk his stick. This was a proven mind-game with any player, but more intimidating with novices. This action meant he expected her to miss soon, or believed she would. He would win ... no matter what he had to do.
     Toni had managed to sink nearly all her solid balls on the table. She felt like she was on a roll ... no pun intended. However, as luck would have it, she missed the shot on the #5 ball (balls weren’t shot in any order ... both players would leave the 8 Ball for the last, winning ball). She smiled to Sid because she knew he’d now clean the table of his striped balls. She sat in her chair and took a good sip of what was left of her drink.
     He snuffed out his cigarette before he took hold of his custom cue stick. Before Sid stood, however, one young guy, who had been playing a different table, came to him and quietly asked something.
     They were turned away from her, so she couldn’t hear what they said.
     Sid lowered his head and shoulders, as if he was exasperated, with what this fellow asked. Sid took out his wallet and handed a few bills to the young guy. The guy returned to his table and Sid approached to our table.
     “Sorry ... business,” was all he said.
     Toni had learned some of what it was like for the pool hall pros. There was this thing called “Stake Horseing.” This meant older players, who were at the end of their run, would financially back a younger player for a decent percentage of all wins. This had to be what she just witnessed. And, the young fellow must have been loosing.
     Sid grinned to Toni, as he lighted another cigarette. He kept the new cigarette in his mouth, as he took his first shot, which sank without question. Then, he rested the cig in the ashtray on the side table between the chairs before he took his next shot. This was a tricky bank shot, but he had no problem.
     Toni watched this man’s style with great interest. She treated this as a lecture session in college ... she would learn from this experienced player!
     “I know you’re new, but let’s make this more interesting ... for me. Whadya say?” Sid asked, as he studied the table for his next shot.
     “Like how,” Toni queried back.
     He had retrieved his cigarette to finish it. Then, he looked at Toni and said, “Like money. You’re better than you think, or ... you’re a hustler.” He waited for her reaction. As already established, he would win no matter what he had to do.
     “I’m NOT a hustler. If you think I play well ... thank you,” Toni said with a sincere smile.
     “How about ... if I win, you play another game with me ... if you win, I give you ten bucks. Sound fair?” Sid prodded.
     Toni began to feel like she was experiencing a real hustle, for which she wasn’t prepared. However, she was intrigued with this idea. She nodded her head in agreement.
     Sid continued to play and he won this game.
     Toni racked the balls, since she had lost, but she wasn’t upset or angry that she lost ... she was invigorated! With more incentive to win, she felt a new reason to play better.
     The next three games, Toni won! Sid had become quieter and less friendly. He was now down $30.00 to Toni. He really did not intend to lose ... ever.
     A small audience had gathered to watch this match, which more than surprised Toni. She had been playing like a pro and even used a couple of shots Sid had used.
     The game they were in, Sid finally won! He almost felt like he had just run a marathon ... an old tired man. However, he had to maintain his self-esteem!
     He had ordered drinks for he and Toni, and then baited the trap, “Wow! You’re good. Let’s up the stakes ....”
     “Sid ...,” Toni interrupted, “Please ... I’ve been lucky ... that’s all.”
     “Lucky or not ... ya gotta give me a chance to win some more ... it’s a guy thing. I can’t loose like this to you,” he said, almost as a plea. He smiled, but was very serious. The drinks came and he began his drink while he awaited her response.
     Toni picked up on this challenge. He had been praising her, but now that she had “taken something from him” ... he acted like she owed him.
     “OK ... what?” she inquired.
     “How much you have on ya now?” he asked bluntly.
     She had the small amount left over from her mother, but she felt very uncomfortable to make a wager of that money ... or any money! This hesitation seemed to bother Sid.
     “What? You feel you’re luck has run out?” Sid giggled sardonically. A few of the on-lookers giggled with him because they knew that feeling.
     “What’s the challenge?” Toni asked specifically. She figured he would make it so one sided that no matter what she did, he would win!
     “Nah ... how much ya have?”
     With the drinks she had had and the way she had been playing, she felt ... cocky.
     “Three hundred .....” Toni lied. All she had was a little over a hundred. She had no idea what she’d do, if she lost!
     Sid had a twinkle in his blue eyes that more than showed his satisfaction. That money would soon be his!
     “If you don’t make this shot, you give me your three bills and the thirty. If you make it, I’ll match your three hundred and the thirty. Wha’cha say?” Sid tormented. He felt he could not loose ... this was a win, win for him!
     Toni kept her “game” face, so all she said was, “OK,” even though she felt nothing but doom! She felt so dumb! Why did she make such a stupid bet?! How was she going to pay Sid?! Adam was not going to be happy with her, either, but she kept her game face. She didn’t care what Sid thought of her now ... she just had to keep her image from waning in this moment of pressure.
     Sid smiled his shit-eating grin.
     “Now ... what’s the challenge?” Toni asked defiantly.
     “We’ve all witness your talent ... beginner or not. What can you do with the 8 Ball?”
     “Do with the 8 Ball? What does that mean?” Toni frowned slightly because this was a strange wording to her.
     Some of the audience knew exactly what Sid intended. There was a soft guffaw heard through out the audience. Toni felt even dumber!
     “That means, little girl ... sink the 8 Ball on the break. It should be easy ... for you,” Sid exchanged grins with some of the others standing around.
     His ploy to shake her confidence worked, but not like he had meant! Actually, she had done this feat ... but, only once, accidently. That’s when she asked Adam what it meant to sink the 8 Ball on the break. He told her that the world would be at her feet, if she developed a formula for that kind of break! As she practiced to hone this kind of break, the closest she ever came was when the 8 Ball would get hung-up on the pocket and not sink. Close ... always close, but no cigar. She felt ... defeated ... but, no matter ... she was about to attempt the best break of her life!! She mentally shook herself to “get with it ... don’t be a wimp!”
     “You ready?” Sid taunted. He got his wallet out of his back pocket and laid it on the side table. Then, he offered his custom cue to her.
     She just did her own guffaw to show her confidence with the bar cue for this challenge.
     Toni waited while Jack was allowed to make the rack for this $300 break. She was so glad that Sid hadn’t pushed to make the rack. An impartial racker .. that was Jack.
     She chalked her cue tip ... very thoroughly ... didn’t want it to slip on contact with the white cue ball. Geometry, physics, velocity and so many other variations raced through her mind. This all pertained to the game of pool ... besides just plain luck!!!
     She couldn’t hit down onto the cue ball because that would cause a back-spin ... cause that cue-ball to stop in its tracks ... it would stay where it hit the first ball. The cue-ball needed to start a reaction like a pin-ball machine. She decided to hit high on the cue-ball to make it do this... and then, pray.
     Toni approached the rack from her right ... she had seen Adam do this, so she thought this would be good. She placed her feet more apart for better balance ... she had been doing this lately with good results. Then, she rested the cue-stick on her bridge hand (right hand) and grabbed the back of the cue for power (left hand). She drew back her power hand to test the angle ... a few times ... then a couple more times. Then, she let’er rip!!!
     She didn’t know if she closed her eyes as she broke, but the sound was ... inspirational! She saw all the balls bouncing off each other, off the rails and a few just spun. The main ball of interest ... the 8 Ball ... spun, but it spun and rolled toward the one corner pocket ... near to Sid. It spun and rolled ... slowly rolled! It was like slow motion where a person might be yelling, “No!!”
     The 8 Ball definitely headed to that corner pocket. The tables in the Clock Billiards were resurfaced yearly, so this table was no different ... level, no warps! This 8 Ball rolled as straight as it got.
     With no hesitation, Sid stood by the table and extracted the 8 Ball! It never entered the pocket. Sid showed no anger ... he just picked up the 8 Ball. He had been bested by a young woman at the game by which he had lived. He had had enough. He handed his cue to the young guy, so he could place it in its case.
     Toni looked at Sid in disbelief! Why did he do this? The 8 Ball could have fallen or not!!
     Sid set the 8 Ball on the side table, and then picked up his wallet. He opened it to a wad of bills ... he counted the money, laid it on the pool table, stashed his wallet, donned his coat and scooted out of the pool hall with the young man right behind him. No words were spoken.
     Toni had won by default ... a three hundred-thirty dollar default!


There is no moral to this story, but those who play games for money, deserve what they get ... good or bad. Only play for fun ... don’t bet money y’ain’t got ... you’ll live longer.



Friendly Smiles

Friendly Smiles

By

B.D. Adams

© 2010

     Friendship! Ah, yes ... the comradeship of friends!! I have had oodles of friends and several stories come to mind that include different groups of my friends ... past and current. It always seemed that my groups would be in threes ... me and two others. Not really mysterious, but to me ... it always struck me as curious.
     Of late, one story seems to pop in my now elderly mind that regarded dining with two friends on a spur decision. I had the money for a burger or bratwurst, and the other ladies said they were game, but nothing fancy, also. They met at my off-campus apartment so we could decide where to go. I didn’t have a car, so I’d need to be picked up, in any event.
     Let me set the era, the thread of the friendship and introduce my friends, with a ditty about yours truly.
     If memory served me, this dinner took place in the summer of 1972, on a week day that we were not working. Because it was summer, it was sunny until late.
     At this junction in my life, I was a college student (not quite a Sophomore, yet), who just wanted to stay alive and well in Columbus, Ohio ... as so many other students wanted to do!! This was Buckeye Land ... you know, Ohio State University. My apartment was just 2 ½ blocks from the main campus ... easy access.
     My friends were students, as well, but with rooms in the dormitories. They had family near, but they wanted to experience life more on their own. I was a transplant from Texas and had an apartment off-campus, so I needed to work fulltime to take care of my living expenses. The girls enjoyed my apartment because it was more like living as “independent adults.”
     We had met at one of the large, classy department stores in the downtown of Columbus, where we were employed. They were part-timers, as I was a full-timer. Since we were employ-ees, we bought all our clothes and accessories with our employee discount ... for which I was so glad to use! We were college students and enjoyed playing tennis (with an invited fourth), so our quick, lithe structures were about even. This was our era of being early twenty-year-olds ... away from home and struggling to stay independent. This was a good time, albeit a learning time.
     As I remembered, the first to arrive at my place was “Sally,” the tall one (there was a song called “Long, Tall, Sally”). She was a sweet person, who I dubbed as the better friend. She wore her light brown hair long, past her shoulders. And, her hazel eyes were definitely the mirrors of her soul! Sally was quick to laugh or wink (or both), when she heard something that struck her to do so. Her emotions were usually light and quickly delivered ... be it, her humor or her irritations (like with certain co-workers).
     Within moments, “Lady M.” arrived. Now, please do not misconstrue ... Lady M. was a fantastic person, as well. Her name was because her childhood and up-brining was way different than mine or Sally’s, and she took the ribbing like a sport. We would tease her, good naturedly, that she was a rich brat. Don’t worry ... she got her digs in to us, with no problem!
     Lady M. was more to my height ... just over 5 foot. She had blue eyes, as I had, but her hair was Irish red ... with the length just above her shoulders, which she usually wore off her neck. And, everything she wore matched ... from a hair barrette to the color of her shoes. Even though she was a red-head, she was quieter than me and Sally. She would always come up with the definitive question, however ... like, “Who do you think really killed Kennedy?” Stuff like that. And, she was one heck of a tennis player! Many times, I felt she was bored playing with us because she was so much better. However, we were friends with all the pros and cons.
     I would have been dubbed as “average” in any circle ... dark, brown hair about the length of Sally’s and blue eyes (already mentioned). One very good thing that my mother did for me was get me to a dermatologist, during my teen years, to clear up all that wicked acne all over my face. Good skin, but nothing outstanding!


(Sorry ... I digress. Let’s get back to the story.)


     As they showed up, and had access to my refrigerator, each got their drink of choice. Sally would be the chauffer, so she had a soda. Lady M. and I both opted for a Miller High Life ... our favorite. We sat in my living room, located on the second floor of my vintage apartment building, to make our restaurant decision. The conversation went like this.
     “What’re you guys hungry for?” I asked.
     “Something affordable,” Lady M. giggled.
     “You’re rich ...,” Sally teased.
     Lady M. rolled her eyes to say, “Oh, come on!”
     All I did was smile. This was pretty typical.
     “Let’s go to German Village! We haven’t been there for a while,” Lady M. suggested.
     “Bratwurst!” I salivated.
     It was decided. German Village had several restaurants with mostly German cuisine, but with menus that would abide all tastes ... like hamburgers or spaghetti. We decided on one restaurant, finished our drinks and trekked out to Sally’s little Pinto, that rambled the three of us to our destination.
     As we made our way through the downtown to German Village, we gabbed, gossiped and guffawed about work. School was a big subject, along with the lack of funds for anything (except food), which was always in the forefront of our minds.
     We were able to find a parking spot right away at the Whittier Restaurant. We got there at the right time because the softball teams hadn’t finished their games to attack all the German Village restaurants and bars!
     Everything was as it had been several times before. We talked, we ate, we drank (Sally had a of couple beers with her food [This was before the days of ridge alcohol restrictions], we laughed and just remained happy to be friends!
     Since we were satiated (stuffed), it was about the time to pay our bills, so Sally and I dug our wallets out of our purses. Lady M. just sat and finished her beer. After a short moment, she appeared to be a little ... nervous.
     “Hey, guys?” Lady M. got our attention, “Uh ... can I borrow some money?”
     Borrow money ... from us? That did not compute coming from her silver-spoon mouth. I looked at Sally, as she looked at me. We both merely shrugged and made the noises that that would be all right.
     “How much you need? One ... two ... more?” I asked with a grin.
     This was the first time that I could think that she was ever embarrassed!! I mean, her cheeks were rosy, and not from her make-up!
     She commented quietly, “Uh ... all of it.”
     Mentally, I was laughing hilariously at her, but in reality, I merely checked my wallet to see if I had any small bills to help her out. Sally did the same.
     “All I have is fifteen dollars ... and, I had an extra beer,” I informed.
     “I have a ten to pay for mine with the tip. My five is for lunch tomorrow,” Sally admitted.
     “How much is your bill?” I asked the question.
     “Nine-fifty-three,” Lady M. said shyly. “I really thought I had money, but I forgot about buying something earlier.” She was perturbed with herself.
     “Can’t you use your credit card?” Sally asked.
     “I didn’t bring it. Like I said ... I thought I had the money. Will I have to wash dishes?” Lady M. asked almost in tears. She took the paper napkin to dab her eyes.
     Sally and I looked at each other, and then I fessed-up, “Don’t worry ... I have enough to cover you.”
     I was afraid she was going to try to kiss me on my lips! She smiled, so relieved, and just kept thanking me.
     I went to a different compartment in my wallet and out took out a crisp ten-spot and handed it to her. We knew Sally’s ten would cover her bill, so I told Lady M. that I’d make her tip, as well.
     “This is my “insurance” money ... when I need it,” I explained. I just hoped she’d pay me back ... soon.
     “Tomorrow ... I’ll give it back tomorrow!” Lady M. promised. Her smile was sincere!
     That was what I wanted to hear.
     With handing Lady M. the money, Sally and I really had no idea about her next person-ality twitch. I, for one, almost fell on the floor by laughing!!! I’ll do this in slow-motion, to paint the humor of this situation. This is what happened:


     Once Lady M. was composed, the waitress came to collect our payments. The waitress had her calculator and stated what our change would be. In turn, Sally and I paid our bills, and then it came to Lady M.!
     Now, just imagine, you’re watching a comedy about royalty ... about pompousness in Columbus, Ohio. As Lady M. extended her little hand ... that held the money ... she reacted like she was being greeted by a peasant of her realm. Her nose was so up-in-the-air that she’d drown if it was raining! I mean, if she had royal lineage, this would have been the telling hint!
     So, smooth ... so, regal ... she made it seem that she was the one with the money. How could anyone ever think that she could ever be penniless?! (“Money? You want money ... from moi? Oh, well ... here’s some.”)
     Oddly enough, Sally saw the same thing I saw and we just burst into laughter with tears!! Lady M. was at a loss, so we tried to enlighten her, which seemed to embarrass her, yet again.
     As I ponder on my memory, this story might sound a bit harsh, or a form of ridicule to Lady M., but what friend, among all the friends of the world, have never experienced embarrassment at some point that induces good-natured laughter?!  I know that I have been the brunt of laughter with embarrassing situations of my own.  Tis merely life, my friends.
     I think this was one of those lessons that cannot be taught in classes, but to teach us ... we are what we are and not so much what we perceive of ourselves!
     And, she did reimburse me the next day ... as a good friend.


     Oh, Lady M. ... I know not where you are today, but that memory will be with me until the day I die ... a long time from now.  I so hope you are well with friendly smiles!

(As the reader can guess ... the names have been changed to protect the innocent.)