by Phil Wohl
experienced golf pro Hartwell added as he led the boys toward the large putting green in the middle of the cavernous store.
He then looked at the putters available for use and the fastidious nature of the vampire prohibited him from using such germ-infested items. So he zipped home and then came back with three sparkling-clean putters.
“Here,” he said to Daniel first and then Maxwell, “these will be better for us.”
Hartwell measured up the first ball from about 20 feet and stroked it smoothly, propelling the dimpled white ball effortlessly into the middle of the hole.
“That's easy!" Max said as he stepped up and synthesized the data into his system.
He pulled the club back and Hartwell coughed under his breath, while his dad grunted, “Miss!”
Max was startled by the razzing and reflexed a screaming line-drive about five feet off the ground and headed for the front window like a guided missile. Daniel saw the need for action before the ball either became impaled in someone's head, or shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows and then continued to do damage in the town.
He jetted toward the ball and stopped it before it found a home in a cashier’s throat, stopping a moment to smile at Hartwell and Max before returning back with the ball unnoticed.
“That could have gone wrong,” Hartwell said. “We have to work on your swing, Max."
“But you guys…” Max pleaded.
“You have to learn how to shut the crowd out,” Daniel stated, channeling his days as a star volleyball player.
“When?” Max started asking until Hartwell anticipated the question.
“Your dad was a star volleyball player in high school. In fact, your mom and Uncle Drew were awesome, too!”
“Never lost a match. We were The Three Slamigos!” Daniel explained.
Max couldn’t believe his ears. “What? Why volleyball?”
“It was the only sport we could all play together,” Daniel said.
Hartwell added, “It was also the only sport you were less likely to either kill somebody, or defy all of the modern laws of physics without being noticed.
“That, too!” Daniel beamed.
He then stepped up and measured a 15-foot putt.
“Have you noticed anything different about your girlfriend lately?”
Max was young and impetuous, so it was no surprise when he zipped out and then zipped back before mere mortals could blink.
“No.”
“You sure about that?” Daniel asked.
Max went back and forth again as Hartwell sunk another lengthy putt.
Max predictably returned, still with no idea what his male role models were talking about.
“Five bucks you miss that,” Hartwell said to Daniel, who proceeded to do just that and then hand over a finsky to his father.
“What am I looking for exactly?” Max questioned.
Hartwell focused on his next putt and didn’t look at Max.
“Put your hand on her shoulder and tell me what you see?”
Max returned as Hartwell stroked the ball toward the hole.
“My hand got wet. She’s getting her hair done.”
“Inside!” Daniel impatiently exclaimed.
Max was starting to lose patience with the game of 20 questions. Hartwell’s putt fell inches short of the hole and he reached in his pocket to pull out the five dollars that Daniel just gave him. He extended his arm as Max threw a mini temper-tantrum by slamming his left leg to the ground, sending a tremor through the sporting goods floor and also part of the town.
The after-shock caused the ball to drop into the cup and elicited Hartwell to recoil his arm and return the green paper to its rightful home in his front right pocket.
Daniel was a bit distracted from losing the bet in such a back-handed fashion, but he broke from the disappointment long enough to say, “Two beats, Maxie!”
“Two beats,” Maxwell muttered to himself until the reality of the statement kicked in and then shifted into hyper-drive.
He raced back to Kayla, the quarter-of-a-second flash felt like hours in Max-time. She wasn’t nearly as fast as Max, but she felt the warmth of his lips without actually attaining visual confirmation.
Max looked dazed as he stood in the middle of the putting green with a smirk on his face and the two ‘peace’ fingers of his right hand aloft.
Hartwell muttered something to Daniel internally and the struck the small white ball with the face of his putter. The ball rolled through Max’s slightly-parted legs and nestled gently into the sparkling white cup.
Daniele exclaimed, “WOW!” as he jabbed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill.
“I have to learn how to play this game!”
Hartwell waved the money at his son, “Then you’ll have plenty of time to get this back one day!” he said out loud and then concluded his thought for Daniel’s thoughts only, “when we’re playing with our foursome!” Hartwell winked.
Daniel smiled and the two of them glided over and hugged Max in the middle of the store.