Recession (Trunked Novel)

Chapter 5

Recession | Chapter 5

Mark and Jimmy thought Grandpa’s basement was the coolest. It was full of all kinds of old stuff. Along the ceilings were shallow shelves lined with dusty soda pop cans and knick knacks from years gone by. Although the space was clean, there was a bit of a musty smell, but it made the space more memorable and cozy. Hanging on the back wall was a huge painting of dogs in old styles of clothing playing pool. The wall opposite Grandpa’s work bench was covered with bookshelves full of old hardback books, magazines, and board games. Grandpa had a lot of time to tinker and he used it well.

"Let me show you boys something before we start playing," said Grandpa as he came down into the room.

He walked over to his work bench. It sat in the corner of the room covered in all kinds of odds and ends. He lifted up a small tool box and opened it on his desk.

"This was my neighbors. He was going to throw it out. It was in pretty bad shape, and the tools inside were all rusted."

"Wow, what did you do to it Grandpa?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, it looks brand new!" Mark said.

"Well, he gave it to me, and I sanded it down and gave it a fresh coat of paint.”

It shined in a vibrant red hue under the old style bar lamps hanging from above. Inside there were several wrenches and screwdrivers polished to a shimmering gleam.

“Wow that's cool Grandpa. All of these were rusty?”

“They sure were.”

“That’s pretty cool George. You've always been a handy guy."

“Thank you. Now who wants to play some pool?”

He closed up the tool box and put it back under his bench. As the two boys responded with shouts Grandpa walked over to a rack on the wall holding several pool sticks. He slid one off, and grabbed a cube of chalk. He twisted it around on the tip of the pool cue, spreading the aqua blue onto the soft felt tip.

"I get Jimmy on my team," Grandpa said.

"Yes!"

Mark's mouth popped open, "oh man."

"Hey!" said Trent, "I'm not that bad."

"I know Dad, but Grandpa's the best!"

"That he is," said Trent.

"Alright, we'll play stripes and solids, or as I like to call 'em, big ones and little ones."

Mark pulled the racked up from the balls at the end of the table and they sat in a perfect triangle.

"Who wants to break?" Grandpa asked.

"I do!" said Jimmy.

He grabbed his cue stick, chalked it up, and leaned over the table leveling his stick. He pulled it back and smacked it against the white cue ball, sending it sailing into the triangle of multi colored rack of balls.

With a crack the balls exploaded onto the table bouncing off each other and rolling out like fireworks going off in the sky. Not one ball found its way to a hole, but everyone knew Grandpa would take care of that. Mark was up next. He sized up all of his shots, and saw that  ball number thirteen was sitting nicely right next to a corner pocket. He lined up his shot and smacked it towards the orange striped ball. The white cueball screamed across the table the short distance and rammed into number 13. It took off  and slammed into the corner pocket, bouncing a bit before falling into the hole.

"Nice shot Mark," Trent said.

"Geez you don't have to hit it so hard," Jimmy said.

The next shot that Mark could see was on the other side of the table.