General Fiction posted December 15, 2022

Chapters:

...16 17 -18- 19 ...

Exceptional

This work has reached the exceptional level

A second seemingly unimportant event is about to occur.

A chapter in the book Some Call It Luck

Some Call It Luck - Chapter 18

by Jim Wile

Background
A brilliant and beautiful but insecure, nerdy young woman befriends a going nowhere older alcoholic caddie. Together, they bring out the best in each other and collaborate on a startling new invention

(Recap of previous chapter: E.J. just found an old golf ball with the label Lucky 1 on it, and decided to hit it toward an old green in the woods. In a mystical moment, the ball appeared to have landed right in the hole, but did it?)

Oh my God, what a feeling coursed through my body! It was all I could do to focus on the task at hand, and it took some time before I settled down again and could pay proper attention to my players. In the hole? Couldn’t be, but I had to put that out of my mind for now.

The last few holes flew by with birdies and pars by my players. Eddie ended up shooting 1-over, while Todd was 2-over par. Parry and Jennings were both somewhere in the low 90s. I got an extra good tip from Eddie for shooting his low round of the year so far.

“I have to say, E.J., you did a great job today. You deserve every dollar for your effort.”

“Well, thanks, Eddie. You played great, and I really didn’t have to do that much. You kept the ball in play, and your putting was fantastic as usual. Todd played well too. I think between the two of you, you weren’t in but one bunker all day. Was an easy loop.”

I said goodbye. It was about 3:30 by now, and I headed down to the snack bar to see if Abby was still there to continue our conversation from earlier. As I made my way down to the snack bar, I could see her wiping off the tables and straightening the chairs. She looked to be finishing up for the day.

“Hey, Abby,” I called out as I strolled into the area. She looked up from her work and watched me come.

“Hey, E.J. Looks like you’ve got a little more pep in your step now. Did you have a good round?”

“Yeah, I caddied for Eddie Phillips today. You know him?”

“Uh, yes, I do know Eddie. He’s quite a character.”

“Well, he really played well today and gave me a nice tip. You got time to talk a little more?”

“Let me finish up here.” She glanced up at the clock inside the snack bar. “I’ll be off at 4:00, so why don’t you sit down and relax. There won’t be any more members coming through today.”

“Well, I’ve got something I’d like to do first. How about if we meet at The Overlook. There’s something I want to tell you about that happened today.”

She studied me for a few seconds. “Oooh, this sounds intriguing! Alright, I’ll meet you there at 4:00,” and she went back to wiping the tables.

I’d been thinking about that possible hole-in-one since it happened, and I had to find out one way or another. In the hole? No way. It had to be over the green; we just couldn’t see it… and yet something was telling me that wasn’t the case. I made my way back through the course, heading to the site of the old green in the woods. I had to pass by a few groups of players to get there, and the members I passed must have wondered what I was doing out there with no bags on my shoulders. Probably thought I’d lost one of my player’s clubs and had gone back out to look for it. I had that kind of reputation around here.

I started by searching the area behind the green where the ball would have ended up if it had gone over. After a few minutes of this, I’d found a couple of others but no Lucky 1. Finally, I screwed up my courage to head to the green and check the cup. As I made my way onto the green, the light flickered. The sun had been moving in and out of the clouds all afternoon, and until I stepped onto the green, it was in total shade. Now a single beam of light crossed the surface and ended right at the hole. My heart started beating harder as I slowly walked down that beam of sunlight, as if in a trance, and I stopped at the edge of the hole. My heart was really pounding now. I slowly peered down into the cup, and there was a ball in there! I bent down and reached my fingers in and slowly drew the ball out of the hole. It was dirty, and I could hardly read the label, but it was the Lucky 1! Oh man, Rafe had been right. It must have flown right into the cup. We never saw it bounce; it had just vanished.

I pocketed the ball and headed back to The Overlook.

I climbed the long set of stairs that led up to The Overlook and sat down. I still had a few minutes until Abby joined me. My mind was in a whirl, thinking about what had happened this afternoon and what it might mean. Was it pure luck, or was it something more?

To take my mind off it for a few minutes, I glanced around and spotted a discarded newspaper in a wire mesh trash can near the bench I was sitting on. I reached in and pulled it out. It wasn’t the entire paper—just the sports and entertainment sections. I wasn’t really into any team sports, so I folded that up and concentrated on the entertainment section. I turned to the back page where the crossword puzzle was, but someone had already filled most of it in. So I looked at the bridge column.

I hadn’t played bridge in years. My parents had tried to teach me when I was 12 years old, but they were such lousy explainers that the game made no sense to me. They ended up contradicting each other, and my dad started shouting, so I just got up and left then. I learned a little more in high school and played a few times during lunch hour, but that was about the extent of it.

I needed something to take my mind out of the jumble it was in, so I read it anyway. It was by Alfred Sheinwold, and what he said kind of made sense. I didn’t fully understand the bidding, but I followed the description of the play quite easily. I looked up and there was Abby watching me. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“Are you reading the bridge column, E.J?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“Do you play bridge?”

“I played a few times in high school, but I’ve forgotten most everything I used to know about it. I always liked it, though.”

“Well, I play bridge,” said Abby. She was pensive for a moment. “You know, I’ve got some books on the subject. You think you’d like to give it another try?”

“Uh… maybe,” I said non-committally.

“I’ve got a good starting book called Charles Goren’s Contract Bridge for Beginners. That was the first bridge book I read when I learned to play. It would help refresh your memory. I could bring it tomorrow and lend it to you?”

“Uh, sure, Abby.”

“You know, if you’re not really interested, I won’t be insulted. It’s just that I don’t know many people around here who play, and I’d kind of like to get a game together.”

“Well, I’m flattered you’d even think to include me. Yeah, I’d like to maybe try it again. It always seemed like a challenging game. I like puzzles and brain teasers. Bring the book. I’ll take a look at it.”

I closed my eyes for a second and shook my head quickly back and forth. “Man, I’ve had the strangest day today!”

“Yeah, you kind of hinted at that earlier. What’s going on?”

“You know I was in a real funk when I left you this morning. I came up here to sit and think about what you’d said about ‘the right shovel.’ And just then I saw this glint on the pond way down there on the 15th hole.” I pointed to it, and she gazed down at it. I was quiet for a moment.

“Yeah, go on.”

“Well, it sent a shock through my system, kind of like I’d stuck my finger into an electrical socket. And later, when we got to the 15th hole, I found this ball on the edge of the pond.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out the old ball and handed it to her.

She turned it over in her hand, studied the label, and looked at me kind of funny. “Lucky 1?”

“Strange name for a ball, isn’t it?” I said. “But that’s not the strange part. When we got to the 16th hole, while Rafe and I were waiting for our group to hit, we were down there at the corner of the dogleg, and you’ll probably frown on this, but we both pulled out a club and hit a ball toward the old 18th green in the woods down there. I hit this one here. It was a good shot, but it disappeared on me. Rafe thought it went in the hole, but I thought it was over the green. We finished the loop, then I came down to find you, and when you told me to meet you at 4:00, I had some time on my hands. I kept thinking about that shot, so I went back out to look for the ball. Sure enough, Rafe was right; it was in the hole. First shot I’d hit in 20 years, and I holed it from 150 yards away! I still can’t believe it.”

“Huh! That’s an amazing story.”

“It sure got me out of my funk from earlier. I feel really good right now. Invigorated. Best I’ve felt in a long time.”

“Well, ride the high while it lasts. Maybe this means you should give golf another try.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it. Look, I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do tonight, so I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m going to head out now. Thanks for listening.”

“Sure thing. Stop by again tomorrow. I’ll have that bridge book for you.”

“Oh… yeah. Okay, I will. See you tomorrow,” and with that, we both went our separate ways.

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Book of the Month contest entry

E.J. doesn't know it yet, but the finding of both the ball and the newspaper are about to effect major changes in his life.

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