The Final Take

The Final Take

FauxNe

SMACK!!! The sound echoes through the hall as Charlie paces around the table watching the balls bounce off the rails. The loud noise of a new game break doesn't seem to interrupt the suffocating stillness of the place. Sulley's was always known to be a seedy joint, it was the kind of place that even though it was always quiet nobody overheard your conversation. It's completely dark except the lamps over the tables and the neon in the windows. The shadows always cast across every face except when they lean in for a shot. The still faces coming in and out of the light similar to ghosts repeating their game throughout eternity.

Drink in hand, Charlie circles the table counter-clockwise lining up each shot. Once ready he places his drink on the corner and proceeds to shoot. One by one in a slow quiet manner he sinks the first five shots with barely a small "clack" being heard from the cue ball hitting its target. From the dark corner sitting on a tall stool Joe puffs his cigarette staring at the table.

"It's getting late...." Exhaling the smoke slowly as he talked.

"How long are you going tonight?" he asked.

"As long as it takes." said Charlie with a sly grin on his face.

Without pausing he taps in the sixth shot and continues pacing around the table to bank the seventh shot in the side pocket with a little force behind it.

"I'm feeling good. I think I might go challenge tonight....."

"You're joking!?" Joe retorted exhaling the cigarette in a surprised manner.

"You got the money to be going on and challenging people? Last I recall, you've been tapped ever since you lost to Mick awhile back. Am I wrong?" The sarcasm in Joe's voice not being toned down one bit.

Silently Charlie continues to shoot and sink the next five shots without any trouble. His playing style appears to be fast but it's just the fact that the cue ball stops exactly where his next shot is. With a banked combo shot the thirteenth and fourteenth ball fall into the corner pocket, leaving the eight ball sitting next to the side pocket. Charlie calmly takes a breath and shoots it in. Standing up he walks over to his drink, takes a sip and replies to Joe.

"I'll be alright."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joe putting his hands up with an emotional shrug of his shoulders. He keeps going.

"You're lucky Mick didn't break your hands after losing all that money. Or have you forgotten that night?"

Staring straight at Charlie, Joe is just holding his cigarette now not smoking. A minute passes. With a sigh he takes another puff and calms down, changing his tone to one of reason as he continues.

"You were ahead that entire night, just couldn't be stopped. All you had to do was take the cash and walk out the door. But it's never enough for you is it? Always with the double or nuthin', and every time that's what brings you down."

The awkward pause settles in while Charlie stares at Joe with a smile on his face. He won't argue with Joe because he only means well. He just stands there silent. Finally, after a moment he simply states in subtle tone.

"I just want to make that last push and not have to worry anymore....about anything. Just get a place somewhere quiet and live my days out."

"You were doing that. If you would've taken the money and kept at it..." Joe explained.

"No." Charlie interrupted.

"Saving bits of money like that won't work. I can't keep living with the gamblers lie. I don't want to keep playing until I'm old and no good."

The smile had disappeared from his face.

"I am going to play, and when I have the chance I will always go for the big take...the final take. And then I'm done."

After saying this some light returned to Charlie's eyes and he cracked a grin.

"You should do the same Joe, go get a place on the beach with a young piece and spend your days with her."

"Heh..." Joe chuckled.

"She'd give me a heart attack."

They both share a laugh for moment and reflect on what was just said. Joe breaks the silence.

"So you expect me to watch you do this?"

"Not at all." Charlie replied.

"But it is nice having you there keeping an eye on the bets and the cash."

Sarcastically Joe moans and lights another cigarette, you can tell what Joe is thinking or feeling by the way he smokes. And by the way he was quickly drawing down that cigarette Charlie knew that he was on board, but he wasn't happy about it.

"Hey Sulley I'll have another one." Said Charlie as he racks up another game with himself.

Sulley slowly comes from behind the bar, his age bending his back over to a hunch, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a towel in the other.

"Here ya' go Charlie." he said placing the bottle on Joe's table.

"I'll let ya' pour your own alright?"

"Sounds good to me old man." Charlie loves to tease Sulley.

"Hey watch your mouth, I may be old but I been around, you'll see", Sulley snapped back.

"Ok Sulley, I'll be quiet." Charlie chuckled quietly.

"That's right." Said Sulley as he slowly made his way back behind the bar.

As Charlie poured another drink Joe finally stated the obvious.

"There are only a few people that play this late.....and Mick is one of them. So I guess that leaves him out."

"That's right." Charlie stated as he paced the table again with his drink lining up his shots.

With another sip he places his drink on the corner and begins to place each ball in the pocket as if it were some kind of ballet. Every shot quietly coming together exactly as it should, no mistakes, no off angle shots, just the cue ball making contact and the ball falling into the pocket. Joe, slowly becoming tense, keeps digging at Charlie's plan.

"Well that leaves Fat Mike over at the Fox n' Hound, or that hick Travis out in the boons, or..."

At that instant Charlie drives home his shot and looks at Joe with such force that it slightly startled him. Joe slowly finishes his sentence.

"Or...Wendy at the Stag." They both stare at each other as Joe realizes what is happening.

"Listen to me," Joe begins with fear in his voice.

"Fat Mike will break your hands like Mick would, that hillbilly Travis might cut off your fingers...but Wendy will fucking kill you."

Charlie stood there listening, after a second he leaned in and sank the eight ball into the corner pocket and slowly replied.

"Wendy terrifies me." As he stood back up and continued while looking at Joe.

"But she has the biggest bankroll. And she is crazy enough to put up that kind of money."

Joe sat there completely aghast while taking deep puffs off his cigarette, knowing what it meant to go after somebody like her. They both sit there while Charlie finishes his drink and Joe puts his cigarette into the ash tray.

"You really mean to do this?" asked Joe with a level of finality.

"I do."

"Well shit. Let's get this party started."

Some life had begun to appear in Joe's face as he put on his coat and hat. Charlie kept smiling as he broke down his cue and put it away.

"Night Sulley. I'll see ya' when I see ya'..." Charlie cheerfully said as he put on his coat and walked out into the night.

"You're alright Charlie." Sulley replied, as if he already knew he would never see him again.