| General Fiction posted January 8, 2023 | Chapters: |
...35 36 -37- 38... 
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Can Abby and Kenny overcome the recent challenge?
A chapter in the book Some Call It Luck
Some Call It Luck - Chapter 37
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 |
(See the Author Notes for a description of the main characters.)
Recap: Abby has returned to Brentwood CC to work at the snack bar again this summer to earn money for grad school. While at school a few months back, she had met an interesting guy who she never saw again until he walks up to the snack bar with her friend Eddie. Kenny is a member at Brentwood, and after a rocky start, they begin dating. Kenny is finally able to befriend Abby’s stand-offish cat, Lester, who warms to him after Kenny saved him from choking to death. Toward the end of summer, Kenny and Abby profess their love for each other, but soon after, tragedy strikes as Kenny accidentally runs over and kills Lester. Abby is so distraught that she blames Kenny and tells him to leave her alone. Both Abby and Kenny seek out E.J. for his advice on what to do to mend things.
Abby St. Claire
A few days later
Summer, 1987
Summer, 1987
After just over two weeks of brooding, I finally took E.J.’s advice and called Kenny at work. He wasn’t there at the time, but I left a message for him to please come over after work today.
He showed up around 5:00, came up the stairs and rang the bell. I opened the door, but before I could say anything to him, he said to me, “Abby, can you ever forgive me for taking away your best boy? You just can’t know how sorry I am about it. You’re right. I should have been more careful, I--"
“Kenny, stop. It wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing he was back there. He was deaf, and didn’t hear you start the car. It was no one’s fault; it just happened. Can you ever forgive me for blaming you for it? I don’t know what got into me. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I love you, and I know I hurt you.”
He took me in his arms then and hugged me tightly. Then he kissed me. We were both crying now. He said, “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me. I love you so much, I don’t want anything to tear us apart, ever.”
We just stood there like that, hugging and kissing for a long time. We sat down after a while, and I took his hand and said, “You know, Kenny, I felt like he was my kid, not just my cat. I raised him from a baby kitten and did everything to care for him. And he rewarded me with his friendship and love. I talked to him often, and he talked to me in his own way. I wish you had longer to get to know him. He was really beginning to like you.”
“Me too. Where is he now?”
“He’s wrapped in a blanket in a thick plastic bag inside the freezer in the garage. Aunt Helen said I could put him there for a while because she doesn’t use it anymore. I just haven’t had the heart to bury him yet. Will you help me?”
“Of course, I will.”
We got up and went downstairs together to retrieve Lester. I got a shovel out of the garage and handed it to Kenny, and we walked down to Olsen’s Pond where I had learned to ice skate years before. Kenny dug a hole and together we placed Lester in it. We then took turns shoveling the dirt over his body. Tears came to both our eyes again, and I said, ”Goodbye, my sweet, sweet boy. For many years, you were my only real friend. I’ll never forget you.”
Then we turned around and walked, arm-in-arm, slowly back to my apartment.
E.J. Budrowski
Late August, 1987
I’ve finally gotten over that humiliating experience from a few weeks ago when I caddied for those two guys who were thinking about joining the club. Their names were Jimmy Fairbanks and Bucky Welborn, and they were playing against Eddie Phillips and Kenny Payne. Brother, what a match that was!
There was big money on this match, and it quickly became clear that my players were there to hustle Eddie and Kenny. But Eddie was onto them from the start, and he figured out an even better hustle against them. Part of it involved giving me a Coke spiked with rum and then later a hip flask with even more rum. I started really screwing up then and cost my players a couple of holes. Before it was over, Fairbanks was so pissed at me that he fired me on the 16th hole after I accidentally stepped on his ball, causing him a penalty stroke. He didn’t pay me anything—just swore at me and told me to get the hell out of there.
After the round was over, which Eddie and Kenny ended up winning on the final putt, Eddie walked up and handed me $200. His hustle ended up working better than Fairbanks and Welborn’s hustle. The $200 was a thank you for contributing to their win, which I didn’t even know I was a part of.
I thanked Eddie for the $200, but I didn’t feel too good about it. I’ve been trying to be a better caddie this year and not drink on the job. I don’t blame Eddie because he didn’t know, but getting fired like that was humiliating now, especially by an uncouth, smug son-of-a-bitch like Fairbanks.
Anyway, after my loop this morning, I went down to the snack bar to say goodbye to Abby. This was her last day before going back to school at Penn State to start her master’s program. It was her lunch break, so we headed up to The Overlook like we usually did.
“Did you have the fun this summer that you’d hoped you would?” I asked her.
“It was almost perfect until the very end when I lost Lester. I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping me get through that and setting things right with Kenny. So, thank you, dear friend. And thanks again for helping me get over my initial awkwardness with him. You sure know what to say to buck me up.”
“Well, it was obvious to me you two kids were meant for each other. I’m happy you worked everything out.”
“Hey, and we had some pretty good results in the duplicate games this summer too,” she said.
“We sure did,” I agreed. “Do you think there’s any chance we can still play occasionally while you’re at school? You won’t be that far away.”
“I think so. Why don’t we plan on a game about two weeks from now, once I’ve settled into a routine? I can drive back and meet you at the temple.”
“That sounds great, but if something comes up, and you’re just too busy to make it, I’ll understand.”
“So, E.J., are you still thinking about going back to college?”
“Yeah, that’s still the plan. I haven’t decided whether to skip going south to caddie this winter and try for the winter-spring semester or just wait a year until next fall. I’d really like to get into Penn State where you will be.”
“Oh, that would be so wonderful! I sure hope you do it whenever it is.”
We gave each other a hug goodbye and wished each other well. Abby had a few tears in her eyes. I told her to call me to confirm if she was still up for the bridge game in a couple of weeks. She promised me she would, and we said our final goodbyes.
When I got home, I changed into some nicer clothes before heading out to the muni to practice my putting. I was a little anxious because I was having some trouble with my putting lately. I seemed to have developed a little hitch in my stroke that didn’t allow me to square up the putter face in time. I had nearly lost a match the other day because of it. Before leaving to practice, I had a few ounces of scotch—not enough to impair my driving— but just enough to take the edge off. I hoped this would settle me down so that I could concentrate on and correct this little problem.
Abby St. Claire: Age 20. She has just graduated from Penn State University where she was a math major and has decided to go for a masters degree there next year. She is intelligent and beautiful, yet shy and awkward with most people her age, having been picked on quite a lot while growing up. She works at the snack bar and as a waitress at Brentwood Country Club during the summers. She is dating Kenny who she met earlier this year and is a member at Brentwood.
Kenny Payne: Abby met him briefly at a frat party in her senior year and was intrigued by him, then she sees him again when he walks up to the snack bar several months later. Tall, good looking, and an all-around nice guy.
E.J. Budrowski: Age 37. An alcoholic with a traumatic past (an abusive father and a mother driven to suicide) who is a caddie at Brentwood CC. One day he finds a dirty old golf ball on the edge of a pond that seems to have unusual powers, for he makes two holes-in-one with it. He and Abby become friends when she encourages him to take up both golf and bridge again after long layoffs.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Kenny Payne: Abby met him briefly at a frat party in her senior year and was intrigued by him, then she sees him again when he walks up to the snack bar several months later. Tall, good looking, and an all-around nice guy.
E.J. Budrowski: Age 37. An alcoholic with a traumatic past (an abusive father and a mother driven to suicide) who is a caddie at Brentwood CC. One day he finds a dirty old golf ball on the edge of a pond that seems to have unusual powers, for he makes two holes-in-one with it. He and Abby become friends when she encourages him to take up both golf and bridge again after long layoffs.
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