The Last Samurai

My father drove to the third seminary, which was small and obscure. My father was interviewed by a Deputy Dean. It was a hot day, and though a small fan was blowing the Deputy Dean, a red fat man, was sweating hard. The Deputy Dean asked why my father wanted to be a minister and my father explained about the fair chance and about carbon 14.

The Deputy Dean said that the church paid the fees of the seminarians who planned to become ministers. He said that as my father did not plan to become a minister they would have to charge $1,500 a year.

My father returned to his father, who said that he supposed my father could earn $750 over the summer at one of the gas stations, and that he would then give him the rest.

So my father went to a theological college. When I say that he went to a theological college I mean that he enrolled at a theological college & went every Saturday to synagogue out of interest because there was no rule to say you couldn’t, and spent most of the rest of the time shooting pool at Helene’s, the only bar in town that would serve a 16-year-old.

He waited for my grandfather to ask how he was finding it, but my grandfather never asked.

At the synagogue my father met someone ten years older who ran the services and did most of the readings. He looked a lot like Buddy Holly, and in fact people called him Buddy (he preferred it to Werner). At first my father thought this was the rabbi, but the town was too small to support a rabbi: The services were run by local volunteers. Buddy had wanted to be an opera singer, but his father had insisted he train as an accountant, and he had come from Philadelphia to take up a job as an accountant. He too spent a lot of time shooting pool at Helene’s.

By the end of three years my father was very good at shooting pool. He had saved up about $500 from his winnings, and he played carelessly so as not to win too much or too often. He could beat everyone in the bar, but one night a stranger came in.

By some accident the stranger played everyone else first. He played with smooth, economical movements, and it was obvious he was in a different class from anyone my father had played so far. My father wanted to play him; Buddy kept trying to warn him off. He thought there was something not quite right about the stranger; either he would win more than my father could afford to lose, or he would lose and pull a gun. My father thought this was ridiculous, but then the stranger’s jacket rode up as he bent over and they saw a gun strapped to his waist.

The game came to an end and my father walked up. He said: My friend here says you’re dangerous.

The stranger said: I can be.

My father said grinning broadly: He says you’ll kill me if I win.

The stranger said: Are you so sure you’ll win?

My father said: There’s only one way to find out.

The stranger said: And who might you be?

My father said he was at the seminary.

The stranger expressed surprise at finding a seminarian in the bar.

My father said We are all sinners, brother, in a rather sarcastic tone of voice.

The stranger and my father played a game and five dollars changed hands.

The stranger said: Do you want your revenge?

They played another game which took longer. My father was still playing carelessly; he naturally did not talk while the stranger was playing, but when it was his own turn he answered the stranger’s questions with sarcastic stories about the seminary. The stranger was a man of few words, but he seemed amused. My father won in the end with a lucky shot and five dollars changed hands.

The stranger said: Now let’s make it interesting.

My father said: How interesting do you want to make it?

The stranger asked how much money my father had in the world and Buddy Holly mouthed the words NO NO Don’t tell him you stupid jerk from behind his back and my father said he had $500.

The stranger said he would give any odds against the $500. My father couldn’t tell if he was serious.

He said: A hundred bucks. Best of five.

The stranger said in that case he’d like to see the color of his money, because he had to get back on the road and he was not going to hang around for a hundred bucks. He said 5 to 1.

My father had $25 on him. He borrowed $25 from Buddy and the rest in tens and fives from people in the bar who knew he was good for it.

They played two games and the stranger won them both easily. They started the third game and the stranger began to win easily, but then my father’s luck turned and he pulled himself together and won. He won the fourth game, though it was a hard fight, and then he won the fifth game and it was silent in the bar. Other people in the bar had seen the gun too.

The stranger reached inside his jacket and everyone froze. Then he took out a wallet. He extracted five $100 bills from a thick stack.

He said: I don’t suppose you’ve had this much money all at one time before.

My father pointed out that he already had $500.

The stranger said: $1,000! That’s a lot of money.