by Richard Wren
CHAPTER 33
Seven of the black-clad guys surrounded the pool table. Most of other players in the room, the one’s Josh had been playing so far, moved a respectful distance away. The tall one, evidently the leader, asked him, “You willing to lose some real money?”
“Sure, let’s get at it!”
“Okay, it’s your table. We’ll rack, you break.” With that he turned to one of the six and said, “Ty, you start.”
A short, round faced guy strutted up to the table, grabbed a chalk and said, “I’m Tyler. Can’t wait to start spending your thousand bucks. Bruce is our best, I’m maybe third or fourth, but Bruce thinks I’ll take you in a snap.”
Evidently Bruce was the boss of the gang, the tall guy with the sneer.
Tyler racked the balls and Josh set up to break.
Josh set the cue ball in his favorite break position, slightly left of center and stroked the ball with a little top English.
The ball got the topspin he wanted, hit the one ball square and achieved a great distribution. Two balls dropped, one striped and one solid. Josh decided to play the solid as he thought he could see a run on solid from the beginning.
The first two balls were a little difficult, the rest were easy and Josh ran all the remaining six and the eight ball to win the game. He turned to Bruce and said, “Next?”
Bruce took his guys into a huddle before answering. Evidently he still thought Josh was beatable and chose another of his guys to play the second game.
This guy was almost as tall as Bruce and had a scar running down his cheek. He looked to be in his early twenties as well. By the way he walked over to the table, you could see he fancied himself as a tough customer.
Before they could get started, Bruce got himself into Josh’s face and said.
“You got real lucky on that one! This one’s ours!”
“You think so?” Holding his ground Josh said, “then let’s up the bet! How about three grand?” Josh had come equipped to play a lot of pool in order to find Charley Fong, to the extent of having a pocketful of traveler’s checks. He could really goad these punks and maybe find out something at the same time. Maybe Fong would show up during the match.
A slight hesitation then, “You got it!” He turned to Scarface and said, “Beat the shit out of him, you got it?”
Josh deposited his winnings and a couple of traveler’s checks with Chan and Chan assured him that Bruce was good for that large a bet. Josh could feel the tension building up. He sensed that Bruce wasn’t accustomed to being beaten, let alone humbled on his own turf. All Josh wanted was information. He didn’t want a fight. On the other hand he didn’t like to lose either.
Scarface said, “Piece a cake!”
