More than once Dominic Swider found his bike knocked over when he was about to leave school for home. He figured it was those boys with new, slick three-speed Schwinn Speedsters who were doing it. Sometimes they would gather around and tease him about his big Western Auto bike with its longhorn-wide handlebars and fenders over its balloon tires. A few would harass him about racing his bike against theirs saying he could have a half-block lead. Dominic never raced. He would just wait out their badgering then head home. He put up with it because his bicycle kept him from having to ride the school bus. To Dominic that was more humiliating than having a big balloon-tire bike.
Sometimes he didn't ride it all the way home. When he got to Troost Avenue a few blocks from his school, he would get off and push his bike up on the sidewalk. His mother wanted it that way. The street was busy — the moving traffic, the parked cars on both sides of the street, people leaving businesses and the big buses pulling in and out from curb dropping off and picking up passengers. But Dominic had another reason besides doing what his mother wanted. He wanted to go past Campus Recreation on the corner of 55th Street and Troost.
The pool hall had been at the intersection since the late 1940s. Mike Bianchi opened the place after World War II. It was a side business, cash sales with little paperwork, and a place for him to get away from the hectic auto parts and wholesale Army surplus business he had in the East Bottoms. Mike didn't play pool but he liked the men who did. He considered them gamblers like himself though he gambled on buying low, selling high. Mike knew being deft at a game and never showing your true talent could work well in both business and on the pool table.
Mike usually showed up in the afternoons. He'd check the till and scan the place to see if someone he knew was in town and on a table or side-betting on a game, Mike would socialize for awhile. His was an easy business to run with little overhead. No booze to sell, no food to prepare, just soda pop, candy bars and cigarettes. Keith Turner ran the place for Mike — open at 11 a.m., close at ten. But if a big game carried on past closing time, Keith would lock the front door, draw the window shades and only keep the lights on above the table and near where the game was being held.
Dominic's home was seven blocks from Campus Recreation. Dominic's mom usually gave him a half-hour or so to get home from school knowing a boy of fourteen can get distracted by things that come his way on any journey. She didn't worry too much about Dominic. "He was a good boy," she told her sister when she asked about Dominic getting his own breakfast and taking himself to school each morning. Dominic's mom had a factory job and had to be at work at 7 a.m. Things were not easy for her and her only child. Dominic's dad died when the boy was nine.
There was other routes Dominic could take home but being alone on Troost, around the liveliness of adults, made him feel older than fourteen. At the corner of 55th Street Charlie's Tavern sat across the street from Meyers Drug Store. Judy's Diner was on the southeast corner. Sitting in one of Judy's window booths you could look directly into Campus Recreation. When there was a break in traffic and the light was streaming through the opened back door, you could see the men playing pool or just their silhouettes talking, smoking and lounging on the raised seats along both walls of the pool hall.
Dominic tried not to be obvious when he peeked into Campus Recreation as he walked his bike by. Keith always sat with his back to the window, alternating his attention between the games on the floor and the small black and white TV perched on the counter. For weeks he never noticed Dominic until one of the players on the snooker table near the front door said to a fellow player, "There's that kid again pushing the bike. I swear he always shows up just when I'm getting ready to break."
"Your breaks are lousy no matter what," said the other player. "You always leave me an open shot."
Hearing the exchange, Keith turned around. On the sidewalk, Dominic's eyes quickly went from the snooker table to Keith then straight ahead and he began hurriedly pushing his bike from the pool hall's window. Keith smiled as Dominic scrambled away. For a few days after that Dominic took a different way home.
One day, with a light rain falling, Keith heard a loud bus horn outside the pool hall. When he turned and looked out the window he saw the bus driver holding Dominic by his shirt collar and yelling at him in the street between the bus and a parked car. Keith decided to step outside. Horns were going off as cars backed up behind the bus.
"Hey, what's going on?" Keith asked the bus driver.
The bus driver looked at Keith then to the cars lined up behind his bus and said, "This little shit almost got ran over and I'm going to get docked pay if I'm late on my route." He pushed Dominic toward the Keith and got back into the bus.
Dominic didn't look at Keith. He reached down and pulled up his bike. The handlebars were bent to the right and the front fender pushed in against the tire. Dominic had hit a curb and fallen over his bike just as the bus had pulled away from the curb. As traffic started moving again Dominic pushed the bike between two parked cars onto the sidewalk. Keith was under the front awning watching Dominic. It was still raining. Dominic straddled the bicycle's front wheel then facing the handlebars tried to move them back to their original position. The heavy bike fell over almost pulling Dominic with it. Before he could get it back upright, Keith picked it up and said, "I got a wrench inside. Let's see if we can straighten it out." Dominic's eyes brightened as he followed Keith into Campus Recreation.
Only a couple of games were going on but someone from one of the back tables yelled, "What'd you do, Keith ... that junk car of yours in for repairs and you decided on a bike to get around?"
"Yeah, your girlfriend and I broke a shock absorber last night when we went out and parked," Keith answered back. Then, he looked at Dominic and whispered, "You don't know what I mean do you?" Dominic shook his head.
Keith found a wrench behind the counter, loosened the top bolt on the front fork and straightened the handlebars. He then took pliers and bent the edge of the front fender away from the tire.
"Ain't perfect kid but you can still ride it," said Keith as he leaned the bike against the counter
"Thank you sir for your help," said Dominic.
"Ah, a polite kid. Glad to hear it. Your parents taught you well."
"Yes sir, I guess."
Keith knew there was something missing in Dominic's answer but didn't push it. "Looks like it stopped raining, maybe you should be on your way, kid." He moved the bike toward the front door. Dominic wheeled it outside as Keith held the door. "Hey kid, as long as your parents don't mind, next time just come in and I'll let you watch a few games. You can stop riding by and peeking in."
Dominic smiled big and stuck out his right hand. Keith froze for a moment then shook it while giving him a curious look. Dominic said nothing to his mom when he got home about the bus driver, the bent handlebars or Keith.
Dominic kept going by Campus Recreation but waited until there was a half-day of school before he took Keith up on his offer to watch pool games. His mom knew about the coming half-day and asked what he would do when he got home early. Dominic didn't want to mention Campus Recreation so instead said, "I'll just do some homework or walk over to Allen's to see if he's around."
"I thought you didn't visit with Allen anymore."
"He's still a friend, mom. We just don't hang out all the time."
"Well, if you can when you come home get out the hamburger from the freezer to defrost and do some of your laundry. Okay? I'll be home around the usual time, four or so. Love you." And she hugged her son.
"Okay mom," said Dominic. He didn't know how long Keith would let him stay at Campus Recreation but he was sure he'd be home before her.
When Dominic got to Campus Recreation he hesitated about just walking in. Some of the tables had players. The big snooker table up front was empty though. Dominic stood at the window still straddling his bike. Keith sensed eyes on him and turned around. He smiled and went around the counter to open the front door.
"What about my bike?" Dominic asked.
"You got a lock?" Dominic shook his head. "Well I guess no one going to steal this bike," Keith said. "Just leave it up against the building." When he saw Dominic frown, he added, "Not that it's a bad bike but you ain't going to be riding it forever. How old are you anyway, kid?"
"Fourteen and a half," Dominic said after leaving his bike outside.
Keith nodded. "Oh ... not supposed to have anyone in here under 15 without a parent." Keith debated in his mind what to say if some city game inspector came in. Neither he nor Mike cared much for city regulations anyway so if it happened the worse Mike would do is take some of the fine amount out of his pay. Keith looked at the skinny boy at near adult height and said, "If anyone asks, add that half to fourteen and say you're fifteen."
For a moment Dominic dreamed that all those kids with Schwinn Speedsters were outside looking in at him, knowing that he was stepping into an adult world mysterious to each of them.
Keith surveyed the room. He knew most of the players — a couple of college kids playing nine ball and some older guys shooting eight ball.
"Look, go watch the games if you want. Just don't get in the way. Sit on the second row of chairs by the table so you can get a good view. Don't talk to the players unless they talk to you, and if you have a question come ask me."
Dominic looked at Keith, his eyes wide and his chest out some. Keith was different than teachers at school or Bill, the guy that occasionally took his mom out to dinner. He was like one of those men Dominic saw on TV, the tough guy detective who solved crimes after beating up the bad guy or the Army sergeant urging his platoon to hold the hill against a swarm of enemy soldiers. Dominic continued to stare at Keith his mouth slightly open. Keith thought Dominic had noticed his glass eye.
"Yeah kid I've got a glass eye. Bar fight in Corpus Christi; got me out of the Navy. Didn't like the ocean much anyway." Dominic shifted his whole gaze to Keith's left eye. "Yeah, but I still shoot a good stick. Now go watch and don't get in the way." Keith waved Dominic away.
Dominic first sat by the younger men playing nine ball. He watched one game but couldn't figure out how they chose to shoot one ball and not another. By the third game he decided the players shoot in a number sequence. Dominic wanted to make sure he was right and went to ask Keith.
"That's right, kid," Keith said. "It's a fast-paced money game in a number progression but it can be sloppy." He saw Dominic's eyes narrow. "I mean you don't have to call which ball into which pocket — the holes on the table are called pockets."
"I know that!" Dominic blurted out. "My dad told me that when we played when I was nine ... only a couple of times though."
Keith noticed Dominic's eyes look down. "Dad not around anymore, huh kid?" Dominic shook his head. "Sorry," said Keith. Dominic walked toward the front door, his head down. Keith understood the feeling of loss. "Hey, kid, what's your name?"
"Dominic."
"Okay, Dommie. You're welcomed any time I'm here."
Dominic didn't look at back at Keith, that disappointed him, but he brushed it off. It's a kid after all. Dominic wasn't sure if he liked the name Dommie but it was better than being called "DUMB-in-nik" by other boys at school.
It was over a month before Dominic came back to Campus Recreation. Keith had watched the sidewalk out front for a few weeks then decided Dominic had moved on to other interests. But he thought about him. He had an offer for the boy if he ever returned.
One Saturday morning Dominic came to the front window. Keith was watching a TV but then felt Dominic's presence. He turned and waved the boy in. "How long you been standing there? I see you left the bicycle at home."
"Yeah." Dominic then straightened up. "Please don't call me 'Dommie.' My name is Dominic."
"Okay," said Keith. He saw the boy let out a breath. "Yeah, I might have gotten a head of myself there. Still interested in pool?" Dominic shook his head as a yes.
"Okay. Ever brushed a table, cleaned one?" Dominic shook his head no. "Tell you what you come in every Saturday early, learn to clean the tables, and I'll give you lessons on shooting pool and let you practice on a back table for a couple of hours. What do you think?"
Dominic first thought of his mom. What would she think? She had blamed the gas explosion that killed his father on the leak from the building next door that had the pool table, the one he had played on with his dad. He started to chew on his fingernails. "Look kid, I'm sorry. Don't wig-out over the offer. You can just come in and watch if you want."
Dominic decided not to say anything about coming to the pool hall to his mom. "What time would I have to come in?"
"I'm in here around nine and open the doors at eleven. You get here at least an hour before that, even earlier if you want. Sometimes I order breakfast from across the street, might be a tip in it for you in getting it for me."
Dominic decided he would tell his mother he was going to the nearby library on Saturday mornings. She would be happy with that especially since school was soon to be out for the summer. He knew his mom had thoughts of him going to college. She put five dollars away each week for tuition.
Dominic learned quickly how to use two brushes on a pool table, pulling the lint and dirt into the pockets by swinging his arms out across the table in clockwise and counterclockwise motions then wiping the tables edges with a damp cloth. Keith showed him how to pick out a cue, chalk it, how to make a bridge with one hand and stroke the cue, keeping it straight by making sure it lightly touched his body. Keith left the rest of how to shoot pool to Dominic’s intuitiveness. When business was slow Keith lazily played Dominic on one of the front tables. He never let Dominic win but let him come close to winning.
After four or five Saturday mornings Dominic's mother started to get suspicious concerning his supposed library visits. At first, she told herself that maybe Dominic was meeting a girl there but when she noticed he had the same library books in his room no matter what Saturday it was she said to Dominic, "Where are you REALLY going on these Saturdays, and don't lie to me."
Dominic didn't want to answer. "Where are you going Dominic?" she asked again in a loud voice.
"It's nothing bad, mom. I promise."
"WHERE?"
"A pool hall."
"A WHAT? Pool hall! That one on the corner on Troost?" Dominic nodded. "Jesus, Mary, Joseph. My god if only your father was here."
“But mom," Dominic pleaded, "'Member when me and dad played pool? It was fun. He never said anything bad about pool." Dominic's mom slumped her shoulders and sat down at the kitchen table. "There's nothing but men there isn't there?" Dominic put his hand on his mom's shoulder. "Nobody messes with me, mom. Keith teaches me stuff and watches out for me."
"And I was so proud of you thinking you were going to the library, reading, studying. I even thought maybe you were meeting a girl. But you lied to me." Dominic sat down on a chair opposite her and put his head down on his crossed arms. "I'm sorry, mom. Playing pool sometimes reminded me of dad." She looked at her boy. She thought of her husband and how thrilled they were when Dominic was born. Everything is hard she told herself, but this boy is not hard.
"You stay away until I go up there and talk to this Keith person. Understand?" Dominic looked up. "Yes, mom," he said.
A couple of Saturdays went by then on one Saturday afternoon Dominic's mom said she was going up to Campus Recreation. Dominic asked if he could go too. "No" was her response.
It was busy at Campus Recreation that Saturday. All but two of the ten tables were being used. Keith was standing watching two young guys playing on a back table thinking maybe they might skip out the back door and not pay when Dominic's mother walked in. She had on a pale blue dress, carried a black purse and had the look of someone looking for someone. When she turned to Keith, he asked, "Help you lady?"
"Are you a Mr. Keith?" she asked.
"Don't know about the 'mister' part but yeah I'm Keith." Dominic's mom walked in front of him, rested her purse in the crook of one arm, pointed at him and said, "I'm Dominic's mother."
Keith's shoulders dropped. "Look Mrs., er Mrs., uh, I'm sorry what is your name?"
"Irene Swider and you don't even know my son's last name!"
Keith raised both hands, palms out and then noticed that a few players on the front table had stopped playing and were watching them. This woman ain't shy where her kid is, he told himself. "Honestly, I never asked. We're kinda. informal here, Mrs. Swider."
Irene turned around and looked out across the pool hall. Those who had stopped to watch Keith and her talk quickly went back to playing their game. She looked over all the men playing pool. To her none looked particularly shady or dangerous. "You sell liquor here?" she asked, her back to Keith.
"No ma’am, just coffee and pop."
When Irene turned back around Keith began to tell her the story about Dominic always looking in when he passed by after school and how he damaged his bike on the curb outside. Keith left out the part about the bus and angry bus driver. "He's a real polite boy," said Keith ending the story.
"Why did you tell him he could come in and watch the pool games?" Irene asked.
"To tell you the truth, he looked kinda lost," Keith said. With that answer Irene walked out of Campus Recreation making Mike, who was just coming in the door, step aside.
"Who was that?" Mike asked Keith once inside. "Someone's wife?" Keith again went through the meeting-Dominic-inviting-him-inside story with Mike and having his mother find out. Mike wasn't that perturbed about it all.
"Maybe him coming in and learning the game will get around his school," said Mike. "We need more business and attracting young kids can keep it going. These old farts don’t, and the traveling circuit of players is getting thin." Keith nodded. Mike went behind the counter to check the money in the register. "Shit, Keith, honestly, I don't know how long I'm going to keep this pool hall going. It's almost 1964. The game doesn't attract new players like it once did. There's other attractions — cars, jobs, girls and drive-in movies, high school sports, rock 'n' roll — times are changing, pool is starting to seem like a low-life game." Keith didn't argue.
Mike pulled some cash from the register. He looked over the room. "Not a bad Saturday, though," he said. Mike folded the bills and put them in his pocket. "Keith, if that boy comes back and he's not fifteen and the inspectors show up, you claim he's your kid."
"What?"
"He's your kid, Keith. Just say he's the product of some shore leave exploit you had, and you just found out." Keith gave Mike a disgusted look as he walked out.
When Irene got back to the apartment building where she lived with Dominic, she found him sitting on the front stoop. She sat down close to him, put her arm around his shoulders, pulled him toward her and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't ever lie to me, Dominic, please," she said. She then got up and walked up the stoop to their apartment.
Dominic sat there awhile. School was out; it was summertime. He thought of his father and began to cry. It was a noiseless cry for Dominic didn't want anyone in the apartment building or walking down the sidewalk to hear him. After a few minutes he got up and walked the two flights up the stairs to home. Two or three Saturdays went by before Dominic started going back to Campus Recreation.
oh yeah, kinda caught the ambiance of Campus Rec
i remember that joint ... what was the name of the pool hall on Prospect we'd go to every once in a while