Last Mulligan by Ric K. Hill

Author:Ric K. Hill [Hill, Ric K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Golf Fiction
Publisher: Ric K. Hill
Published: 2015-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

KIM, THE BOY WONDER, stared at the scorecard peppered with bogeys. He’d struggled all day. With nowhere to hide, a stark expression of panic was fixed in his eyes.

Unfortunately, the golfing robot possessed no real understanding of his swing or how to correct it when things went south. With no guru to guide him back to the Promised Land, the anticipated future King of the Fairways reverted into a frightened little boy.

In an all-out effort to hit a big tee shot, Kim tightened his grip just enough to close the clubface on the way back. He watched helplessly as the ball hooked far to the left and clamored off the roof of a nearby mansion. His eyes began to float in a shallow, salty sea of tears.

Two more snappers out of bounds left the teen blubbering on his mother’s shoulder as she escorted him off the course. Incredibly, the distraught kid left his beloved cell phone behind. To save him from further trauma, Dan raced to the young man’s side and pacified him with his indispensable security blanket.

On his way back, Dan monitored the spectators around him, half expecting to see some kook sticking pins into a voodoo doll.

Keith looked at him. “Don’t mean to rush you, big guy, but let’s finish this round and get the hell out of here. This scene’s getting a little creepy.”

• • •

THE LAST SURVIVING MEMBER of the group, Dan shielded his eyes and surveyed the narrow runway on the 540-yard eighteenth hole. His focus was so keen that he didn’t see the bodies of water looming on both sides of the landing area or the steep-faced expanses of sand that stood like foreboding sentinels, granting passage only to those skillful enough to challenge their domain. As he yanked the head cover off his driver, the possessed man zeroed in on the small patch of green far down the fairway.

“Sure you want to go there?” Keith asked, spying the small ribbon of dry land in the distance.

“Don’t have much choice if I plan to make the cut. If I can hit a draw and ride the wind, I might be able to get home in two.”

Keith did the math, but the numbers didn’t add up. “That draw you’re talking about isn’t the normal shape of your shots. Think you can squeeze one out there?”

“One way to find out.”

Dan aimed his club at the target, closed his stance and clubface slightly, and hit a low, burning hook that scorched the fairway.

Keith flashed a devilish grin and slapped a high-five. “That was off the hook!”

Dan looked at him as if he were nuts.

“Sorry. Just had to say it.”

“A budding comic you’re not. Stick with law. You’re bound to have more success.”

Dan surveyed the vast expanse of water that stretched before him. Only a sliver of green loomed beyond the scenic deep blue. Not liking the prospects of his upcoming second shot, he carefully double-checked the yardage book and wind direction.

“You aren’t seriously considering a go at it? The zephyr’s picked up and perceptibly shifted into you.

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