Pool Hall

I have written about my Dad once before in this blog.
Well actually I write about him more, but indirectly.
I am half him, after all.
We talked tonight and I heard again how longevity can really go too far and dodging death can become a monotonous colorless gray day.
So I tried to cheer him up and told him my Pool Hall story.
I told one of the girls at lunch, about the old Pool Hall on Main Street in Edwardsville.
It was a doorway, narrow looking, sandwiched between buildings-the Jail? and another storefront, I don't remember the exact sequence of stores.
Every day (sometimes many times) in the summer and other days, I surfed Main Street.
The Pool Hall was on the left going to the end of the street, on the way to Woolworth's which was good to cool off in the air conditioning. My step always hurried, my senses alert, as I peered through the sometimes open always mysterious, dark and smoky entrance to the Pool Hall, one place off limits to me.
You never wanted to lurk there long, move fast I would think, keep moving lest someone might emerge from that dark hole of smoke.

I always tried to please Dad on his birthday. In those days he smoked white tip cigars, to try to wean off cigarettes.
It was logical to an 8 or so year old to buy Dad the cigars but how to obtain?
I went to my trusty Mr. Kuethe to help me out. In his calm demeanor and few words, we walked up to Main St. to the Pool Hall.
My heart raced.
I breathed a little deeper.
I looked around to see if anyone noticed, did anyone care,
would I come out....alive?
Mr. Kuethe's hand was always so sure, steady, wrinkled from sun and hard work.
I would be OK.
We walked into the smoky room and I peered, squinted at the line of men, mostly or all black, I couldn't exactly tell it was so dark and smoky. My eyes wide open but seeing less after being in the bright sunshine.
We walked over to the small case and Mr. Kuethe facilitated the deal.
I walked a little faster going out, having met one major objective, to say I had crossed the threshhold of a most mysterious place.
Dad got the cigars, maybe a little puzzled at how I got them, maybe not.
Mr. Kuethe caught H*ll from Mrs. Kuethe and had to promise to never take that little girl into the Pool Hall again.
I looked up at Mr. Kuethe and thought I saw a wink.
Tonight I told Dad and miles away, I hope a little twinkle came to him tonight. mary