Short, Light, Free

Chapter 69: Seven Friends: Whitey

I’ll try not to make this story hard to comprehend, but life is not something that can be explained with just words.

I remember a saying that goes: It takes three years to learn something good, but just three days to learn something bad.

But how can a thoroughly evil person become good?

My answer? Seven friends.

They walked in front of me, falling into the depths of the unfathomable abyss on my behalf in order to put me back on the right path and to make me cherish everything that I have.

If not for these seven friends, I might’ve turned out to be a complete bad egg.

...

When did I meet Whitey, you ask?

I’ll have to begin my story from when I started falling.

I wasn’t the easiest to deal with when I was young.

I never did things good kids do.

On the other hand, I never stopped doing things bad kids do.

Grade 5, Winter break.

My older cousin who came from the village was staying with my family.

He was 23 that year and was searching for a job in the city.

I was 13 and in grade five.

I had surprisingly little assignments to clear that winter break.

Whenever my cousin was free, he enjoyed sitting on the long bench and flipping through recruitment ads.

I was placed under his care and it seemed that my cousin hadn’t been a good kid when he was younger either.

One day, he put down the newspapers in his hand, and on impulse, brought me out in search of a gaming cafe. Internet cafes weren’t as available during that time.

The one we found could practically be found in all corners of the city center, but one trip was all it took for me to remember the route.

That route leading to degeneration.

My cousin gave up his search and returned to his village after seven days.

During the seven days that he was with us, I was basically having fun 24/7.

I must have played every single game in the cafe.

He led the way and handed all his pocket money to me.

30 RMB was a treasure to me back then since I had no pocket money yet.

Of course, I spent all of it on the gaming cafe.

That cafe was situated in a bustling and lively business district.

A coin cost 50 cents and I broke the 30 RMB into a few portions of coins.

As a kid with no allowance, I was very calculative when it came to money.

No matter how calculative, however, I was unable to resist the bright colors of the monitors.

I even felt that I wasn’t reserved enough. Only when I reached university did an economic professor mention that it was perfectly normal. He said, “For women, children, elderly or dogs, to earn money is to look forward.”

I finished that sum of money within a week.

The following days were difficult but there was still half of winter left.

I could only stare as other children played their games.

Soon enough, however, I found a path to get rich.

It was the new year and I was going to get money from my relatives. It was the tradition.

Sadly, it was also tradition for children to hand them over to their parents. Nevertheless, some were able to keep the money for themselves.

I quickly got started on my plan.

Thinking back, I realized that I really did commit an offense.

I’d imagine that you’ll understand how quickly and easily children team up with one another, especially when they were immature and when money was involved.

The five of us, barely acquainted, would wait all morning for a target to appear.

Our targets would usually be new faces whose pockets produced clinking sounds or those who carried copper tins with them. These were children who had exchanged for many coins in one go.

The five of us were a team, with four playing bad cops and one playing the good cop.

We always managed to get a sum of money.

Come to think of it, I was usually the good cop.

There were usually only two staffs in the cafe, one watching the door and the other collecting money.

The door watcher was also in charge of the joystick.

We would wait for our targets to enter the cafe’s blindspot before making a move.

I would first go over to talk to them, telling them that I was a pretty big figure in the cafe and that they could look for me if they ever needed any help.

They would ignore my words at the start and I would leave the cafe.

My teammates would then enter the cafe, approach the target’s station, and switch the console off by pressing a button on top of it.

They would then wait for the target to realize what was going on before starting their standard procedure.

“Have you paid the protection fees?”

“Is this a place for you to visit?”

“Why are you still here? Get out.”

...

All of them spoke, one after another, effectively confusing the target.

At that point, if the target were to fight back verbally, they would scatter away.

If the target remained passive, I would reappear, pull them to a side, and pretend to calm them down before going over to the target to explain the situation.

I would tell him that these people were gangsters and that their brothers were all big figures before asking how much he had on him. I would tell him that I had managed to convince them to collect just 10 instead of 20 RMB.

I would also explain that after collecting the fee, the guys could protect him whenever he needed.

Usually, the targets would be well-behaved and honest, emptying their pockets and taking out their coin tins.

Around the Chinese New Year period, our success rate was about 70 to 80%.

After the targets leave, we would divide our ill-gotten gains or play in other gaming cafes.

Were there times that we failed? Of course.

If the targets start to shout or run over to the counter, the staff would chase us out.

Nevertheless, after a short while, the big brother watching the door would sympathize with us and let us in.

After a few times of doing that, I asked him why he was still letting us in.

According to him, it didn’t matter who earned whose money.

Plus, he’d rather deal with familiar faces like us rather than the new ones.

We became this gaming cafe’s official gangsters.

We played tricks initially, but they did not remain effective for long.

Newcomers became veterans and there were familiar faces all around.

Without any choice, we invented another method.

We seldom used it and only used it in unfamiliar cafes.

If we get caught, we might not just be shooed but also beaten.

The five of us would search the grounds of the new cafes for a fallen coin.

Even after growing up, I had dreams where I was just looking around for coins.

Finding the coin was just the first part.

After that, we would search for a target who kept his coin box on the table while gaming.

We would ensure that he had a decent amount of coins in the box before tossing our coin on the floor around his feet and informing him that his coin had dropped.

While gaming, the target would usually only throw a swift glance on the floor.

If there really was a coin, he would bend down to grab it real quick.

One of us would then use our body to hold him down, pretending to continue his game for him while someone else reaches in for his coins.

When the target got back up, we would quickly release the joystick and he would instinctively take over immediately.

When he finally realized that he was missing something, we would’ve long been gone.

We used this method thrice and only when we were really itching to do it.

In actual fact, we were really just hoping to find coins on the ground.

This step was already very challenging without adding having to find a lone, rich, and brainless player.

It was really difficult and soon enough, only few would still leave their boxes on the table.

Hanging out a lot in our usual gaming cafe led us to the discovery of a dark door beside the counter.

All kinds of adults went inside from time to time, but as children, we never dared to enter.

Until we met Whitey.

He was my first barely-friends friend.

Whitey always had a white Nokia phone in his hand.

Nokia at that time was a rare commodity.

A white Nokia was an even rarer sight.

We were of the same height, so when I saw him enter the room successfully one day, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer and I followed him.

There were all kinds of brightly-colored slot machines.

Whitey sat in front of one of those and started playing.

I wasn’t interested in the colored lights but rather, the people who were in there.

They had boxes filled with wads of cash and Whitey was one of them.

One dollar could be exchanged for two coins and everyone seemed to be tossing the coins into the machine non-stop.

I did not understand how the red and green horse racing lights could attract them.

Since that day, I would follow Whitey whenever he entered the room.

Which was almost every day, I realized, and each time, he would bring along a box filled with coins.

I counted them secretly and found out that he usually brought a hundred dollars for each visit.

He usually observed as others played the slot machines and would only take over after they left.

Each time he played, however, he played pretty big and differently from other people.

I followed him for a week and saw him keeping his gains into his case.

He lost the majority of the time, but when he did earn, the coins poured out in torrents.

I rarely saw people gaining so much at once but it happened to Whitey thrice.

Thrice within just a week.

For a poor kid like me, who had to think twice before spending a coin, this sum was simply unimaginable.

One day, Whitey noticed my existence.

“You’ve been coming in here every day, wanna learn?”

I nodded. “But I have no money.”

“I can teach you but you gotta pay the tuition fees,” he offered.

I followed him around and interacted with him for another week.

In that time, I discovered that Whitey was a junior high student and he had started playing the slot machines when he was about my age.

Whitey told me that the only way to have a chance at winning at any slot machine was to invest in Big or Small.

The rules were simple. 15points is the boundary. Anything above would be counted as big and anything below small.

10 points for a dollar.

There wasn’t any limit to the betting number. The first win would bring a double in coins.

“If that’s the case, why are you playing the horse racing game?”

“Big or Small is meaningless to me.”

He wanted the machine to rain coins.

The method Whitey taught me was very simple.

Prepare five dollars.

Put five cents on Big.

Repeat if it’s a win, and add another five cents if it’s a loss.

10 cents, 15 cents, 20 cents...

Win and restart from five cents.

Go home when all five dollars were used up, otherwise, continue.

A few days later, after I had managed to gather five dollars, I tried my luck.

Whitey’s method was effective indeed. I won over 20 dollars on the first day.

Looking at the money, I had actually thought about ending the game and saving them up.

Yet, I was unable to understand how Whitey could throw his money out again without feeling the ache.

One day, I finally asked him how much he had spent on the machines.

He smiled and answered that he had already spent a few thousand dollars.

At sixth grade, I was practically unable to comprehend the enormity of that amount.

When I asked about the source of the money, he only smiled.

I started believing that he was rich.

I kept his words in mind, visiting the place whenever I had five dollars and only continuing if I won.

I added a rule for myself: Save a dollar for the games outside.

From then on, I entered the dark room almost every day, playing the slot machines or observing other players when I had no money.

My luck ran out gradually and I started losing more than winning.

When school started, I visited only during the weekends.

Naturally, I saw Whitey less frequently.

One morning, after losing my five dollars, I noticed him observing other players as usual.

I could no longer remember much of the things he had told me.

However, I do remember him warning me not to touch games other than Big or Small.

He told me about the old fellow who roped him into this whole business.

The old fellow was about forty or fifty.

He loved the slot machines and would exchange 200 dollars worth of coins, staying for a whole day each time.

He was the one who shared the winning method with Whitey.

He also taught him to wait for a player that was about to finish his game.

If the player had been losing non-stop for about 2 rounds before leaving, he should take over and stay on for five rounds, betting five dollars on Seven for each round.

Seven was the biggest chip in the slot machine and a strike would bring a tenfold increase in winnings.

50 points would become 5,000.

It was 10 points for a dollar so 5,000 would convert into 500 dollars.

This was the secret to the torrential raining of coins.

25 dollars in exchange for 500 dollars.

“How many times have you succeeded?” I asked Whitey.

“Countless. So many times that I often dream about it too.”

In fact, because he had succeeded many times, he doubled his bet to 10 dollars per round for 10 rounds.

I asked if that was how he got all his gaming coins, but he said it wasn’t so.

Just about two years ago, he had landed himself in a debt of about 2,500 dollars, money that he had borrowed from the loan sharks.

There were times that he managed to repay a little, but he was always owing more than he was able to return.

The loan sharks got hold of his school and home address, and even his parents’ contacts and offices.

He divulged this secret when he was borrowing money.

It was only then that I realized that his white Nokia had disappeared.

He then told me that he had sold it a long time ago.

One day, Whitey witnessed an innocent bloke losing 20 rounds and leaving. He nudged me and said that it was a good chance.

He sat down and played 10 rounds with 10 dollars each.

No strike at all. He left depressed.

Before he left, he told me that he was never going to come back again and that the loan sharks had threatened to look for his parents.

I never saw him again.

From that day onward, I never laid my hands on a slot machine again.

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