Part One Talk Story Now

Eightball

For the guy who said my character wasn’t likeable. 

That's not what I said, kid. I said you are a natural character. You're an incredible flake. But that's a gift. Guys spend half their lives inventing that. 

Eddie Felson ~ The Color of Money 

Tuesday 

It’s cold outside, Abraham, or do you prefer to be called Abe? 

Right, Abe, that’s a good name and reminds me of being an altar boy when I was a kid in Hawaii. I was the best altar boy, the priests at my family’s church all said so, and they were amazed how I could speak Latin fluently. I forgot how, but back then, I spoke it like a champ. Like I was saying, I’m not used to Baltimore weather; in Hawaii, the weather is perfect all the time. Remember I told you how there’s no humidity? Well, there are hardly any mosquitoes and no snow in Hawaii either. I guess arriving here at the end of summer was lucky since I didn’t get bit by the bugs too much before the winter hit. January really is cold and makes me want to go home to Honolulu. I tell you, Abe, Hawaii calls to me. 

That’s right. I don’t know if you’ll understand, but whenever I fly home, I know when the plane enters Honolulu’s air space because a tingling sensation starts right in the back of my head. It’s like that tingling sensation I told you about when I touch trees to get my power. I place my hand on a tree, and I can feel the energy run up my arm. I don’t know why. I guess it’s because I’m from Hawaii, and we’re more in tune with nature than haoles. That’s someone not from Hawaii, usually white, no offense. I’m kamaaina, which means “local”- Oh, here comes Wendy; she’s so pretty! I need to help her. She has talent, but without proper training, her pool playing will never get better. Good thing I’m captain of this team because everyone will get my sixty years of billiards experience. I’ve led dozens of teams to victory over the years. Excuse me; I need to work with Wendy. I’ll be back, Abe. 

Hey, hey, Wendy, aloha.  

I was just telling Abe how good you’re getting under my guidance. You ready to learn some new banking strategies? Have you been practicing the shots I taught you? That’s good; pick a cue just like I showed you and watch how I bank the three-ball to the corner. 

Did you see how I put some English on the upper corner to spin just enough to push the three off the rail? That’s how you shoot with finesse and avoid overpowering the shot. A lot of amateurs muscle the shot, thinking power sinks the ball, but really, it’s the spin that wins the game. 

I know. I know. I told you already, but it’s important. Are you okay? You seem tired or upset. I texted you yesterday during the day but never heard back. If you need someone to talk to, you can always call me. I am retired, you know.  

Sure, sure. I know you’re busy. Waitressing is tough work. I’ve had many waitress friends over the years, and that’s why I always leave forty percent tips or more. That lets the waitresses know I care and gives me good connections, and that's always good for business. 

Sure, sure, I’ll be talking to Abe while you get a drink. Now don’t get too tipsy. We need you playing your best tonight. 

Just kidding! I know you don’t drink like that, being in recovery. 

Oh, that’s right. You don’t drink at all. I’m sorry. I’m seventy-six, and I forget a lot, but I won’t forget again. 

See you in a bit. 

Excuse me. Hey, Abe. Abe.  

Wow, this bar gets crowded. I tell you, Abe, that Wendy is coming along with her pool playing nicely. She is so grateful for my teaching, she said, “I appreciate your time with pool, but work keeps me busy during the day.” That’s her way of telling me she wishes she had more time to play pool.  

Thanks, Abe. I am good at reading people, and I can tell she needs me. I’m going to use my connections to try to get her a better job. She deserves to be happy. I think of her like ohana, just like the rest of the team. “Ohana” is Hawaiian for “family,” which means a lot because if you’re part of my ohana, it’s like being part of the Gambino’s. I’m originally from the Philippines. I am the oldest son, and in Filipino families, the oldest runs the family because that is how Asian families work. I’m famous in my family’s hometown in the Philippines because my grandfather was the mayor, and when I go there, they assign me, bodyguards. I haven’t been there in some time, but when I visit, the family gathers around me in the living room of the house, which is mine by birthright, but I don’t charge my ohana rent or anything. They each take turns approaching me, placing their forehead on my hand as a sign of respect, then they ask favors. They might need two hundred thousand pesos for their business or need their marriage blessed. I grant their requests but laugh, “You owe me a favor!” Everyone laughed when my cousin translated. 

Funny, I know, but seriously, Filipinos are like Asians, and our family network extends across the globe. Filipinos are the Mexicans of the world, working in all different countries, but the families stick together. If I pick up the phone and call any family member, anywhere in the world, and say, “I need a favor.” They say, “Yes, Uncle, whatever you need.” That’s what they call me out of respect. When I got sick a few months ago and needed a place to stay in Baltimore while getting treatment at the VA, I called my brother, who gave me our cousin’s number, and as it turned out, his daughter was renting a room. I caught a flight from Oregon, where I was living, and moved in with my niece in a week. That’s how ohana works, Abe, and you know what?  

You and Wendy are on the team, and I think of the team like family. 

That’s right, Abe. You now have the option to ask Uncle for favors because you’re in the ohana. By the way, what do you do for a living, Abe? 

Oh, a writer. That sounds exciting. Maybe I should try writing. I have many adventures: Vietnam, telecommunications expert, intelligence operative, jet fighter mechanic, and entrepreneur. What’s one more thing to add to the list? 

Sure, while you grab a drink, I’ll be talking to Janey. Here she comes now. She’s pretty.  

Well, I suppose she is a “hot little number,” as you say, Abe, but I don’t look at women that way. I’m just glad she joined the team the other day; we needed another talented player. I'm offering her mentoring, no charge, because that girl is going places if she applies herself to the game. 

Aloha, Janey! If you don’t mind me saying, you remind me of an Island girl. They’re so pretty! 

You’re kind to Uncle, but I’m way too old for a twenty-nine-year-old. You’re younger than my daughter. Let me get you a drink. You like those, what are they called? 

Manhattan! That’s right. I don’t remember bars serving those drinks in Hawaii. In Hawaii, people drink Mai Tais, except the Japanese because they drink sake and don’t like to drink a lot.  

Excuse me, dear! One Manhattan for the lady and a draft for me. Mahalo.  

That’s how we say “thanks” in Hawaiian, Janey. 

You don’t need to thank me. You’re ohana. I was just telling Abe how the team is part of my ohana- Oh! The other team is here. I’ll finish telling you about ohana later. It’s time to play.