Уолтер Тевис - The Hustler

Eddie felt very steady now, and the buzzing was completely gone from his ears, the trembling gone from his hands. “That’s not worth thirty per cent, Bert,” he said.

Bert glanced up at him quickly. “Who said it was? Who said it had to be?”

Eddie’s voice was calm, deliberate. “Why don’t you and Gordon go out and roll drunks, if you’re in the muscle business?”

Bert laughed softly. “There’s no money in rolling drunks. And just how pretty is the business you’re in?” Then he stood up from his chair and bent, brushing the creases from his trousers. “Now let’s go have that drink.”

“You go ahead, Bert,” Eddie said. Then he picked the pieces of his cue up from the table, and began putting them in their leather case. He looked up at Gordon. “You run this place, don’t you, Gordon?” He snapped the lid of the case and tossed it to Gordon, who caught it silently. “Find me a locker to keep that in.” Then, looking at Bert, he said, “You better go on home—to your wife and kids—Bert.”

“Sure,” Bert said, peering at him intently, his voice flat. “But remember, Eddie. You can’t win them all.”

Eddie looked at him and then grinned, very broadly and easily. “No,” he said, “but neither can you, Bert.”

Bert continued looking at him for a minute. Then, saying nothing, he turned and left, walking purposively and slowly past the big oaken door.

About twenty minutes after Eddie and Charlie had left, Henry, the colored janitor, began to cover the tables with their gray oilcloth covers. After he had done this he closed the windows and pulled the heavy draperies together over them, so that it was extremely still, tomblike, in the huge room. Then, before locking up, he stopped to watch Big John shoot his eternal practice shot one final time for the evening.

Big John, ready to leave, ready to return to his obscure bed in some unknown hotel, shot with firmness and resignation, his pink arm stroking quietly and surely. The tip of his cue struck the cue ball, the cue ball hit the three, and the three-ball, red and silent, rolled up the green table, hit the cushion, rolled gently down, and into the corner pocket.

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