Hotel Ambrose

Chapter 18.3

The Cave turned out to be a shed. You had to walk outside to get to it. George the dog followed us, trying to lick my jeans the whole way. Joe opened the door and switched the light on.

One half of the shed was tools. They were neatly arranged on shelves and hanging on hooks. There was a big machine that I didn't know the name of, and a tall thing that looked like a saw, and a big old vise bolted to a bench. Everything smelled like sawdust. Above the bench was a calendar with a lady who'd just got out of the ocean – it looked like the waves had torn most of her clothes away. The other half of the room had a couple of couches in it, a TV, a fridge, and a dart board. George the dog had already curled up on one of the couches and gone to sleep – probably worn out after a hard day of licking everything.

But the thing my eyes went to was the snooker table. The balls were already set up in their places.

"This is where I go to get away from the girls," Joe said. "Gets a bit catty in there sometimes. Want a beer?"

"I don't know," I said. I'd never had a beer before.

"I'm going to have a whiskey. Maybe you'd prefer that."

"Okay," I said.

He got a couple of tumblers down from a shelf above the fridge and got an ice tray out of the freezer and squeezed the ice into the tumblers. Then he got a bottle of whiskey from a cupboard and poured some into the tumblers. He handed one to me and we clinked glasses. I tried some of the whiskey. I must have made a face.

"It's a sipping drink," Joe said, and showed me what he meant.

He was right. It wasn't too bad if you just wet your lips with it. I already felt warmer.

"This is awesome," I said, running my hand along the edge of the snooker table.

"I thought you'd like it." He gave me a curious look. "Do you know how to play?"

"I think so," I said. I'd watched Lucio and the Ape playing enough times. I understood the rules. I'd never held a cue though.

"Want a game?" Joe said.

"Sure."

I went to the cue rack and selected one. It was heavier than I expected.

Joe went over and put the markers on the scoreboard on zero. "You can break," he said.

"How do I hold this thing?"

He showed me. "You'll get used to it," he said.

We played in silence for a while. The only sound was the satisfying snack as the balls connected and the soft thud as they hit the edges. I wondered when he was going to start asking me about Sophie and Fred. I thought it was weird that he hadn't already.

"Oh," I said, remembering. "I have your book."

He looked up, a strange light in his eyes.

I went to my bag and got the book out and gave it to him. He stared at it. I wondered if it had ever changed for him like it had for me.

"My high school English teacher gave me this," Joe said. "Mr. Heath."

"Yeh?" I said, as if this was all news to me.

He looked up from the book. "I got your letter by the way."

It took me a moment to realise what he was talking about. He meant the letter I'd sent years ago. The one I'd done on the typewriter.

"Why didn't you...?" I said.

"Write back?" He took a shot. "Where would I send it? I haven't heard the dogs since I was your age. There's a key – I'm sure there is. Maybe you have to listen a certain way."