He soon discovered that Chaim was a bookmaker. A bookie. A turf accountant. Soon Louie was learning about the world of creating odds, vigorish, point spread, when to lay off bets and who to pay protection money to. Chaim always emphasized to Label that being a ‘bookie’ was an honourable profession. Yes, it was illegal, but it was nothing to be ashamed of. People wanted to place bets, have a little excitement in their lives, and Chaim made this easy for them. He always told Louie to walk with his head high and his shoulders back, to let people know that he was proud of what he was doing. Another lesson Louie learned was that too often, people bet more than they could afford to lose. Sometimes it was money that was needed for rent – or food – or clothes and Chaim never wanted that on his conscience. Nor did Louie. No one ever wanted to see families in this predicament. And that’s where the pencil came in. A short yellow pencil, with a well-worn eraser, firmly planted behind his right ear. Under the grey pork-pie fedora that was always perched on the back of his head. It was held in place by beige-framed thick glasses and gave Louie the option of erasing certain bets when circumstances dictated. Particularly when he suspected clients had lost more than they could afford. This way the bet could be erased. Louie always felt that Chaim knew what he was doing and agreed with it. Which is perhaps why it was never mentioned between them. If people needed help, Chaim and Louie were in their own way, going to provide it. They became trusted and as well-liked as neighbourhood bookies could be. They paid winners promptly and always afforded losers several days grace. To many it may have seemed they preferred payouts more than making collections. Which was doubtful. But perhaps.
One morning, Chaim didn’t show up for their daily breakfast meeting at the Honey Dew restaurant on Ste. Catherine. In the four years of working together, this had never occurred. Chaim never missed a breakfast without notifying Louie in advance. Never. It was their time, when they would review the previous night wagers and plan the rest of the day. Louie was so concerned he couldn’t finish breakfast. Another thing that hadn’t happened in four years. Even Mabel, their regular waitress commented on it. Louie decided it would be best to go about his regular routine, and meet with his “associates”. The guys who actually took the bets. He began at Windsor Pool room. Followed it with a stop at the Drummond Cafe. Then coffee at Hyman’s Snack Bar. Finally he reviewed the previous nights action handled by Jack at the corner newsstand. No one had seen or heard from Chaim.
Still too upset to eat, Louie skipped his usual lunch at Dionnes food market which he hadn’t done in four years. Still no word from Chaim. When he got home late that afternoon, Louie received a call from Chaim’s wife, who told him that Chaim had been hospitalised after a serious heart attack. This was not the first attack Chaim had experienced. However it was one that Chaim would not survive.
