“No. I ain’t… I don’t wanna…”
“Come on…” James peeled off another note, then three more. “Here’s five hundred bucks. But that says I can make it for you.”
“What? You? You wanna take the shot now?”
“Yeah.” James nodded, waving the notes a little closer to the ginger haired kid now.
Then the other player got involved. “Look man, how about you just leave it, huh?” His voice had come out squeakier than he intended, and his eyes darted nervously about. He looked like he regretted opening his mouth already. James turned to look at him.
“It’s alright little fella. Your buddy here’s his own man. He can decide for himself if he’s interested or not.” The ginger kid’s eyes were fixed on the cash.
“Five hundred bucks says I can make that shot.” James repeated, his voice soft. “Against your one hundred.”
The ginger kid paused.
“You wanna bet five hundred bucks you can pot this black, and if you make it I only have to give you one hundred?”
James nodded.
“And if you don’t make it, you’ll give me the five hundred?”
“That’s it. You got it.”
“What are you doing Paul? Let’s just get outta here?” The second player said. But the ginger haired kid – Paul – wasn’t looking at him. He glanced at the table. At the shot he’d been about to fire off, with no hope of making. Even if this crazy guy was some kind of pool shark, there was still no way he could make the shot. It was basically impossible. Besides, this was now a challenge to his masculinity. Why should he run away? The way he’d done his whole life.
“Alright. But put the money down. So I know you’re not gonna go back on it.”
“Absolutely. No problem with that.” James took the notes and pinned them to a table under his half-empty bottle of beer. “Now show me yours.”
“What?” The ginger haired Paul froze.
“Show me you’ve got a hundred. After all, you’re gonna have to give it me in thirty seconds.”
Paul didn’t believe this, but he nodded and fumbled in his pocket for the wallet which James had already noticed, and from it he pulled out a note of his own. He showed it, tentatively to James, who waved his hand at the table.
“Put it down.” He said, as if talking to a slightly simple child.
Paul looked to his friend, who shook his head, lightly, so that James wouldn’t notice him. But Paul turned away, and did what he was told. For a second all of their eyes were on the table with the cash, then they all slipped back to the other table. With the near-impossible shot.
“May I?” James held out his hand for ginger hair to hand him the pool cue.
“Oh sure. Sorry.”
James bent down to line up the shot. He pantomimed for a bit, his whole arm shaking like he couldn’t control it, and then he straightened up again, to chalk the end of the cue. While he did that Oscar silently approached the table where the cash was pinned, just as James lined up the shot again, but this time gave a huge sneeze. Ginger haired Paul couldn’t stop himself from laughing, and James did too, but then he pulled himself together.
“OK. Watch and learn my friend. Watch and learn.” He slammed the cue into the white ball, and sent it careering into the black. It took all the energy, and bounced off the end cushion at a hundred miles an hour. Randomly it careered around the table, at one point it came close enough to the middle pocket that it could have gone in, but it didn’t. Eventually is slowed and stopped.
“Ah shit!” James exclaimed loudly. “I really thought I had that.” He held out the cue for Paul again, who looked delighted.
“So I… So do I win?” He asked, grinning. He had slightly goofy teeth and his freckles colored with the thrill of it.
“I guess you do.” James turned to the other table, where the cash was pinned under the beer bottle. But then his face dropped, because the bottle was there, but the cash wasn’t.
“Hey?” James exclaimed, louder still. He looked to Ginger Paul, and then the other kid. “Hey did you? What the hell? Where’s that money?” James turned back to Ginger Paul, moving intimidatingly close.
“Did you move it?”
“No!”
James turned to the other kid. “Did you?”
The other kid looked scared again, but didn’t get it either. Neither of them had noticed Oscar at all, much less seen him slip the money from under the bottle before leaving the bar.
“Oh man, that sucks,” James said, shaking his head. “That really fucking sucks. You got ripped off.” Ignoring the two kid’s anxious looks, he went to walk away.
He met up with Oscar a couple of streets away, by the white SUV.
“Fucking gorks.” James said, unlocking the car.
“That was a stupid risk.” Oscar replied as he climbed into the passenger seat.
“Oh come on. They were asking for it. They’d been on that table the whole fucking night.”
“I’m serious. I’m not doing that again. Not for a hundred lousy bucks.”
“It’s not just a hundred bucks.” James grinned as he pulled the ginger haired kid’s wallet from his pants pocket. “I went back. Made out I thought he’d taken the cash before I took the shot. Said it put me off. Little fucker shit his pants, thought I was gonna hit him. Slipped it out nice and easy.” James gave a narrow-eyed smile, and tossed the wallet across the car.
“How much?” James asked, once Oscar had opened it and looked inside.
“Two hundred seventy.”
“And credit cards?”
“Sure, but we can’t use them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to go to jail, that’s why.”
“Alright, alright. You sure there’s nothing more?”
Oscar sighed “Yeah I’m sure. You wanna check for me?”
“No.” James sounded chastised.
“Turn right here.” Oscar told him, then he used his sleeve to wipe the wallet, removing any fingerprints. By the time he was done, James had already lowered the window and steered
