Behind the 8 Ball

Few men can keep alive through a big surf to crawl, clotted with brine, on kindly beaches in joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind

Finally my name got to the top of the board, and I got to challenge for the table. Well, not my name exactly, but the name I use for these kinds of things. I put my quarters in and the balls came thundering out with a crack and a rumble, sounded to me like a bad omen, though who could say what of; my opponent seemed straight forward enough not to raise any worries. I went over to rack ‘em up, same way I always do, it’s completely equitable, but it sometimes raises a complaint, so I pause and wait for a look of agreement before I lift the triangle. It’s what I get initially, but then something else like surprise or a question, but then you continue on and break, dropping a solid – 5-ball. You try for the 3 next, but they’re packed in too close still. You do manage to open it up a bit. I try to pick up a stick that’s heavy enough for my preferences (heavier’s usually better for me if I’ve been drinking), and that doesn’t deviate much. After chalking up, the cigarette smoke gets ahead of me (when did that start?), and I pause to wipe my eyes. You spot the scar on my eyelid.
“I thought that was you. You indeed are Ulysses”
Eurycleia?
“What?”
Nothing. 9-ball in the side.
“Hold up a minute. Don’t you write under the name of Ulysses?”
Yeah, but not at the moment. The swift ship is hauled up on the shore, haven’t written in a few weeks. So,… 9-ball in the side.
“Last I remember, you were tagged for a meme to tell 8 things about yourself.”
Uh-huh.
“So why not write about that? That seems easy enough.”
Seems easy does it? Thing is, anybody who really wants to know 8 things about me already does. I’m not sure I know 8 things about myself with any certainty. Maybe 8 things about the writing though – that way I can be sure to reveal only what is expected.
“Yeah, I could probably think of 8 questions about the writing.”
Okay, shoot. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total—bring the trial on! No, wait a minute, let me shoot finally. You know, 9-ball, in the side? Gotcha. Now 10-ball, far corner, one bank.
“How did it start?” Pass.
“How does it end?” The butler did it of course. Who am I, freakin’ J.K. Rowling? No, sorry, pass. If I knew how it ended, what reason would I have in writing it?
“Alright then, why those places?”
Have you read City of Glass by Paul Auster?
“No.”
Well, when you have, you may have found and understood the answer to that question. I’m counting that 10-ball as a scratch by the way – didn’t plan on that second bank.
“I’ve got an obvious one, why ‘Ulysses’?”
Well, you’re going for a combo on that question, why don’t you take a shot while I plan which angle to take on that.
“1-ball in the corner. Yes!”
You gonna take that 2 also, though you played off it and didn’t call it?
“I got the 1 in didn’t I?”
I see. Well, back to the combo you actually called, beaten off our true course by winds from every direction across the great gulf of the open sea, making for home, by the wrong way, on the wrong courses. I feel adrift like that in part, and part of my hope for the stories is to help me make sense of the travels, to tell east from west, the dawn from the dusk or where the sun that lights our lives goes under earth or where it rises. The meaning of my stories might only become apparent as they play themselves out, or it may never show its meaning but only its general orientation. I’m as anxious to draw the meaning out of it as you, maybe more so.
Les Étoiles, les étoiles, lights of white and blue, tell me stars why I look to you?
“Pardon”
Just a Melody in my head, you gonna take another shot?
“6-ball in the corner”
Lotta green there
“Eww”
Aw come on, that was pretty close. Part two of your answer lies in the fundamental ambiguity of his essential qualities. Like Ulysses, I can sometimes be unnamed and unrecognized within my own story, though I may be at your very table. Often I’m purposefully misleading, as he was a man of many devices, and known to the world for every kind of craft, a hero defined more for his ability to use words than for his ability to apply physical force. My first instinct is to try to influence rather than lecture you, to try to leave enough undefined space in the story that you can put yourself in it, or let it through your defenses.
“Then how do I know if I can be sure of these answers, how can I tell the true parts from the fictions?”
Well, they’re, Falsehoods all, but he gave his falsehoods all the ring of truth. More than that, the falsehoods were used only to illuminate a deeper truth. The stories are absolutely true at their core. The truths are carried by devices whose basis is inconsequential next to the heart of the stories. Did we ever meet? Did we ever speak? Did you ever see me sink this combination of 11-ball in the side, followed by two banks to put in this 12-ball back here in this corner? Get in there,… fall! Now, there’s a shot I could never hit sober. Sometimes you have to remind them who’s in charge.
“Are you usually in charge?”
I’ve led before. I’ve been gained leadership through consensus, accepted it by rank, taken it by individual challenge, been given it by seniority, earned it through excellence, been sought for it according to my skills and knowledge. Sometimes it’s been like:
They swung aboard, they sat to the oars in ranks and in rhythm churned the water white with stroke on stroke. Other times, more like:
I forced them, hauled them under the rowing benches, lashed them fast and shouted out commands to my other, steady comrades.
I think if you were to check, you would find all would say I did my best for them, though we were not always fully successful. Still, when others break and rush back to the ships, you’d do well to have me near to restore their resolve. At times, in certain circumstances, it is possible to give your best effort for each other and still not succeed. And at the crucial moment, sometimes in book 12, whether you make it or not comes down to self control more than command control. Nowadays, if I’m leading at all, it’s an effort to get others to the point where they can lead themselves. Though I do find myself leading in this game again. And with that lucky 13 sitting right in front of the side pocket like that too.
“You sure you don’t want to leave it there blocking the pocket?”
Good advice, but since I already feel a bit exposed I don’t see any reason why I should seeking safety now. Besides, it would mess up the little game-within-the-game I got going on with myself.
“Hey, I’ve seen you before, and you were writing—you were out at Pearmund with earbuds in scribbling in a notebook”
Is there a question in there?
“What were you listening to?”
Right now, I’m going to close my eyes and wait to hear that 13 falling in the side pocket. I’m always listening to something, the reader with a varied-enough taste in music should be able to determine what I was listening to while writing each piece – there’s usually an obvious clue – a line, circumstance, emotion or tempo dropped in out of what I was listening to. They all have a soundtrack when they get delivered – that’s part of what’s in the manila envelope. Chatou, for example, has got Iron and Wine in it. And I don’t mean train bridges and cabernet.
“What were you drinking at Pearmund?”
The Redmund’s Reserve – the little guy’d hung out with me earlier in the morning, and he kinda sold me on it. That’s 6 questions by the way.
“Yeah, so why wasn’t the answer in bold then? That’d be pretty cheap.”
If you’re going to talk like that, maybe we should revisit your 2-ball. But you’re close to being right, I’ll give you that one for nothing.
“Then why don’t you stop pacing?”
I’m not pacing, I just don’t see how to get a decent shot at the 14. You know, you could help out a bit by putting some of those in and getting them out of the way. Okay, so I’m going to hit the 14, off the end bumper, and towards the far corner. Towards that is, not to be confused with in, nicht wahr?
“Okay, I guess. Since you bring it up, what’s with the languages? The English speakers lapse into it, but the foreign speakers are always translated.
Those people just do that, often the foreign word they use captures the meaning better than the English equivalent, sometimes they just come out that way ‘cause it sounds better. That ‘nicht wahr’ is a good example. How could you get that meaning across in English and still manage to slur it out like that, ya know? There’s another important rule about the languages that is too interesting to get out of me when I’m just drinking beer. It’s more of a martini or green label kind of secret. I will tell you that I’ve broken it in this one. And there goes the 14, towards, but not in, the far corner pocket.
You want another drink? You better get it from me now, ‘cause this game’s not going to last much longer. Yeah? Okay. Hey Julie! Get me 2 more would you, and 1 over here, and put them on my tab?
“You know the waitress? How do you know the waitress?”
Those your final two questions? No, I’m just kidding, of course we’ll only count the questions that relate to the stories. But, to answer those two anyway, I know the waitress’ name – when she introduces herself, she tells it to you, probably because that’s what she prefers to be called.
“I’m sure she didn’t actually introduce herself by name to me.”
Must just be me then. Speaking of just me, I’m going to take a little personal time. I’ll be back directly. You take as much time as you need to set up your next shot.
When I get back, you give me a sheepish look and a shrug. You’ve put together the best run of the game to sink the 3, 4, and 7-balls. That pesky 6 still resisting you though. You’ve really put the pressure on me, and I grab my cap off to rub the hair on the top of my head.
“Is this the cap?”
Just a moment, I have to punch that 14-ball in before I lose my nerve. Maybe a quick sip of my drink first. You get yours? Good.
“Lotta green there”
Couldn’t be so pretty a shot otherwise, plus you’ll get to watch the cue keep on traveling right back here for the 15. Ahh, so nice. What were you saying? oh yeah, the cap? The cap is actually a stand in for several. It’s a little stupid actually: I’ve got a knocking-around cap, a work cap, coaching cap, winter cap, spare cap in the car just cause you never know – this one is the went-out-for-a-drink-didn’t-want-to-fix-my-hair cap. To make it more necessary, I just got my hair cut, and it really wants to all stand up. Not to mention the cap/pas cap thing that comes up now and again. The pen’s got a cap too, as far as that goes.
“Oh yeah, the pen? Isn’t that a bit quaint?”
Quaint? Heck, quaint’s practically my middle name. Watch how quaintly I nudge that 15-ball in the side and leave a easy shot on the 8 in the corner. Thanks for clearing up that mess of those other numbers you had all over the table. Ka-clunk, and where does that leave us? With the 8th and final.
You want to know about the pen? I don’t know exactly. When I need a quick excuse, I blame it on my poor typing skills. To be sure, I can write faster and more error-free than when I type. I have to be pretty tired to find myself looking at a handwritten page where the characters are not the ones I was trying for. It’s more than just speed though. I like creating the letters as well as choosing the words – it feels like more of a creative act for me to be working in pen. The ink is just more fluid than the keys, though I guess a font can be fluid…, but at the same time, the writing has a permanence that’s absent in the electronic medium. I’ve never had any written work lost with no hope of return. I’ve given things away that I doubt I’ll see again, I’ve had notebooks stolen out of my car. But while I doubt I’ll ever see them again, I can imagine that they might still exist, somewhere, waiting to be rediscovered. That permanence that writing has encourages you to get it right the first time and it requires you to think about what you’re putting down. And now, I’ll put down that 8-ball, grab my other drink and bounce a few ideas around about getting that swift ship back out onto the wine-dark sea. Thanks for the game, I truly enjoyed it.