Tuesday's Caddie

by Jack Waddell

  "In a way."

  "Tell me."

  Billy took a slug of scotch, grimaced and shook his head, "Yikes, that burns." He put the glass back down on the table. "Been a bad couple of days I can tell you that. Started yesterday when my old man cut me off. No money, no job, no trust fund. Says I have to earn it for myself. Such bullshit. Only gave me a week, too. So that started it."

  "Why would he do such a thing?"

  "I'm sure it was my mother. She didn't like me cattin' around like I've been. But, hell, it's my life. It's not like I'm some kid or anything."

  "They can be doing that?"

  "Yeah, he controls the trust fund. Never wanted to turn it over to me even when I turned twenty-one. He still wants to be the boss of me. I'm sick of it."

  "So then what happened?"

  "Well, he doesn't know it, but I had to borrow some money a while back from some bad people. Had an unlucky run with my Red Sox. Would've meant dipping too deep into the trust fund and the old man would have had a conniption. It was easier making the payments even though I've already paid them triple what I got from them."

  "Uh oh."

  Billy took a smaller sip of the scotch. "Yeah, right. Well I went over to Angelo's last night to try to square things. You know, make arrangements for a smaller payment, skip a payment, whatever. Just till I get situated again."

  "Angelo's?"

  "Little Italian joint over on Sepulveda. That's where my friends do business."

  "And they were not to like what you asked?"

  "No. And they were pretty emphatic in telling me so."

  "So what happened?"

  "I don't remember much about the discussion. Woke up in the alley behind the place. Knew I couldn't show up like this at the house. Found my car and drove up here to spend the night. Car's parked back behind the barn there."

  “They were to do this just because you asked for more time?”

  “Well, that and the little matter that I was already a month behind.”

  “What are you to do now?” Conor asked becoming alarmed at what this might mean for the Calcutta.

  “Pay them. I have to get them off my back. I’m going to the bank tomorrow. I still have access to some money I can use. That’ll hold them for a while, anyway. But it’s money I really need. There’s not much left to draw on. Once that’s gone I’m broke.”

  "Will you be all right until we play the Calcutta?" Conor asked getting to his main concern. He knew Billy's reputation and wasn't surprised at what had happened. But he was afraid that now that reputation was coming around to haunt him.

  "Well, that's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. Because the truth is I don't know. I think the guys will be okay with the money I get them tomorrow. And that should hold them for a couple of weeks anyway. But I gotta find some work and soon. I may have to sell the car or something if I can't come up with some cash in a hurry."

  "How much is it you owe?"

  "More than you want to know."

  "Well, I could be giving you ten or fifteen bucks. I've been on Robert's payroll for a week, you know."

  Billy let out a laugh then grimaced at the pain it caused in his ribs. "Yow," he breathed. "No, no, I heard from my father about that. In fact he took the occasion to point out you're making more money than me. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the offer. But three fins aren't going to help. But you're a good pal to make the gesture. Look, I know you don't have any money."

  "Have you no idea what you're to be doing then?"

  "Not at this moment. The only thing I have going right now is the Calcutta. The old man said he bought a quarter of the team from Graves. It's mine if we cash in. But who knows about that? It's no sure thing."

  Conor sank back in the couch and considered whether to broach the topic. He desperately wanted to play in the Calcutta and perhaps win enough money to make himself worthy of Annie. But he also felt he held the knowledge in trust. Michael wouldn't be happy at the news spreading. If too many people knew the odds would drop.

  Billy watched Conor's eyes stare at the floor. "What are you thinking?"

  Conor made up his mind. "I may be knowing something that could help."

  "Yeah? What is it?"

  "My cousin knows horses. Works over to the Kellogg Ranch. He says he has a tip on a horse running Saturday down in Tijuana. He says 'tis a lock."

  Billy leaned forward in the chair and took another sip of his drink. He set the glass down. "Oh yeah? What does he know?"

  "He's been watching them train the horse. Says they're to be doping him. He's turning in times that nothing could touch."

  Billy eyed Conor critically. He picked up his glass and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, well, I've heard a lot of such tips and they've all cost me a bundle. There's no such thing as a sure thing. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way."

  "Aye. 'Tis true what you say. 'Twas only a thought. But please don't be repeating what I said. My cousin wouldn't like that."

  Billy thought for a moment. "Is your cousin betting on him?"

  "Yes."

  "How much?"

  "Everything he has: a hundred."

  "Really?" Billy again leaned forward. "He's putting it all on this horse?"

  "Aye. And on the nose too."

  "How about you?"

  "I'll bet what I can. Maybe ten."

  "He's betting it all," Billy said as much to himself as asking a question.

  "Tis what I said. All he's got."

  Billy got up and limped to the table by the door. He took out a candle from the box and lit it with a match. Rain had started to fall in earnest and the sky had darkened as evening approached. He took out the spent stub in the holder on the windowsill and replaced it with the lit candle. He turned back to Conor. "You trust your cousin, do you?"

  "He's my cousin. I'm to know him his whole life. He's a good man. And like I said, he knows horses."

  "Who's he making the bet with?"

  "He's not. I am. I'm to go down to Tijuana Saturday and make the bet at the track for him. My cousin doesn't want any bookies around here to be knowing he's making a wager."

  Billy exhaled a "Whew!" as he moved back to the chair and sat down. "That's a smart move. Real smart. He seems to have thought this out."

  "Aye. He's not dumb."

  "No he's not. And he obviously thinks this is a sure thing."

  "'Tis the words he said to me."

  "I may be interested. But I can't be laying any bets around here either. My friends would not be very happy with me. What say I join you on the trip? I could drive. We could make a day of it. Have some fun, you know?"

  "I was to take the train."

  "Ha! Forget the train. We'll go down in style in my car."

  Conor felt uneasy. The whole scheme was shaky. But it was now set to motor its way to Baja. "Aye, that would be good." He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his cigarettes and lit one. "I may be to take you up on that drink now,"

  "Good, I'll get you a glass," Billy said rising from the chair. "Listen, why don't you stay here tonight? I could use the company. I can make us something to eat."

  Conor chuckled and got up from the couch. "Nay, 'Tis me that's the cook. I'll handle the stove. You just be pouring the drinks."

  Billy laughed, grabbed his side and winced. "Bartending I can handle."

  "You able to swing a club still?"

  "Not right now. But I'll be ready when the time comes."

  "May the saints make it so."

  (back to top)

  Chapter 19

  Bogey House

  Tuesday, May 13, 1930

  Conor stood waiting by the practice green with Meg and Annie’s golf bags. He found himself nervously alternating his gaze and his thoughts out over the golf course then up the path to the clubhouse where Annie might soon appear. He could feel his future rushing toward him. It might come from the golf course and a good showing in the Calcutta. It might come from Annie and all the promise his feelings held for
her. Either way he could sense a change in his life. And he was ready for it.

  He and Billy Compton had talked long into the night. The more they talked the more Billy wanted to talk about the race and the trip to Tijuana and the more Conor wanted to talk about the Calcutta. The race troubled him. Too much was out of his control. Too much was at stake for Michael and, for that matter, Billy and himself. The Calcutta was just as much a long shot, but at least he had some say in what happened.

  But on this perfect cloudless day he had more on his mind. It had been almost a week since he and Annie had their moments of closeness at Westlake Park. Could that really have happened? Had he only imagined the feelings they had shared? And how could he bear to be with her in the company of someone else when all he wanted was for her to be his alone?

  He sensed it was getting late for them to appear. He began to fidget, wiping off the club heads in their bags with his towel even though they were perfectly clean. He rubbed the dust from the top of his shoes. He took off his hat and smoothed back his hair. He began to worry that they would show up at all. He kept looking up the path. Finally, finally he saw her.

  Annie came down the path smiling broadly. She carried a parcel wrapped in brown paper tied with string. As she neared him she called out, “Conor! There you are!”

  He wanted to drop the bags and run to her and take her in his arms and hold her tight. But he couldn’t. Today he was still but a caddie. All he could manage back was a “Hello!”

  When she reached him she stepped close, only the bundle she held in both hands separating them. “Your clothes… they came this morning,” she said softly. “I just know you’re going to look so handsome in the tournament.”

  Conor laid the bags down and took the clothes from her. “Thank you, Annie. ‘Tis wonderful you’ve helped me so. Let me take these back to the yard for now.”

  “That’s fine. And you can return Meg’s bag while you’re at it. She won’t be joining us today.”

  “She’s not to be coming?” Conor said surprised.

  “No. Her daughter is not feeling well – Sylvia, her oldest. Her asthma is acting up and she has to go to the doctor. Such a shame. Meg says it’s chronic with her. And it’s such a beautiful day. It’s too bad she has to miss it. I’ll just hit some putts while you take care of that.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Conor said as he picked up Meg’s bag and walked back to the pro shop. He left the clubs at the rack outside the bag room then went into the caddie yard with his bundle.

  Gino was leaning out his door. “Now what the hell is that?” he demanded as he saw Conor with the package.

  “’Tis my clothes for the Calcutta. I’m hoping you can hold them inside for me for now.”

  “All right. If it’s for the Calcutta I can.” Gino took the bundle and put it on his desk then came back to the door. “I hear you hung around here all day yesterday. A few of the monkeys here have figured out you must be up to something. I told them to put a lid on it, but the word may be getting around. So watch yourself.”

  “Aye, I will, Cap’n. Thanks.”

  “And I want to talk to you about caddies next weekend. Who do you and Billy want?”

  “Give me Stovepipe if you can. And Dogface to Billy.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Dogface is no problem. But if a member asks for Stovepipe you may not get him. Know what I mean?”

  “Aye. And I’m to be knowing you’ll do what you can. So thank you, Cap’n.”

  Gino nodded and Conor turned and made for the gate. Annie was waiting and he would have her all to himself for the rest of the afternoon. Ever since he left her he had worked hard to quell his excitement. It was all he could do to keep from running back to the practice green. He was halfway there when he saw her.

  She was standing with her bag by the side of the green. The late afternoon sun played against the left side of her face. Her blonde hair fairly glowed in the light. She was smiling at him. This sight made Conor stop in his tracks. She was so beautiful at that moment he could barely breathe. He quickly gathered himself and hurried on up the path.

  Annie watched him come to her. She had thought of little else but him since the park. When Meg called to tell her she couldn’t make it she had been secretly elated. She wanted more time with him alone as they had been at Westlake. Talking with Louise she had heard herself say what was in her heart. Looking at Conor she knew that all she had said to be true. And if it were true, then this time together with him was the truest thing in her life.

  When Conor reached her he couldn’t help but whisper, “You are to be but beautiful today.”

  She blushed slightly and made a face. “No, not me, just the day. Come, let’s have some fun, shall we?”

  “Aye, let’s see you play some golf.”

  Conor took the bag and lifted it to his shoulder. They walked together down to the open first tee.

  * * *

  The round started much like any other with Annie hitting her shots and Conor helping her select her clubs, lining her up and helping her to read the greens. It was warm with the faintest of breeze carrying with it the scent of the grass and the trees. They walked slowly and took their time knowing there were groups ahead of them that would bring them to a halt once they caught up to them. After the first few holes Annie would often replay a stroke to try a different strategy or technique with Conor’s instruction. Their pace kept them out of sight of the other players ahead as the sun began to lower and throw shadows across the course.

  Their talk was mostly about the golf – Annie’s play and Conor’s thoughts on each hole and how he intended to play it in the Calcutta. There was some banter and laughter, too, as he chided her bad shots and overly lauded her good ones even as she blamed all the bad on awful advice from her caddie. But it was the moments when their eyes met that much more was said. They began holding hands as they walked the fairways.

  By the time they reached the fourteenth hole the shadow of the eucalyptus trees and the hedge behind it blanketed the green. After she putted out and Conor replaced the flagstick she turned to him. “I quite think that’s enough for me today,” she said. “It’s getting late and you really must practice. Are your clubs over at that house?”

  “Aye, but no, ‘tis your round we’re to be having,” he objected.

  “No, really, I’d much rather watch you. And I know you made a promise to Robert. Why don’t you go get your clubs and start while I walk back to the clubhouse? I’ll change my shoes and bring my car around before it gets too dark.”

  Conor reluctantly nodded agreement as Annie reached for her bag. “All right, then. We’ll be doing that,” he said. “But leave your bag. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Oh, all right,” she agreed. “Just let me get my purse and cigarettes.” She took them from the pocket of her bag and with that they parted, she walking back up the hill and on to the clubhouse, he carrying her bag to the Bogey House where he would trade it for his own under the cellar door.

  * * *

  Annie walked through the gap in the hedge and saw him hitting pitch shots to the green. She waved a greeting that he returned. She loved watching him play. It was as if swinging a club at a ball were the most natural thing in the world. She caught the scent of the eucalyptus tree beside her. It gave her an idea. She turned and broke off a thin branch and then wove it into a small wreath. Holding it behind her back she walked across the green as Conor stopped and watched her approach, a sly smile playing on her face.

  She came to him and with one hand reached up and took off his hat. With the other she placed the wreath on his head. “Every champion deserves a crown. And that’s what you are to be, my champion golfer.”

  Conor looked into her eyes. He smiled and dropped his club to the ground. With both hands he reached for her waist and drew her close. He kissed her tenderly on the lips. She returned it and let it linger. Finally he drew back slightly and whispered, “This champion needs his lady more than he would need a crown. Will
you be my lady fair?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “I will be your lady fair.” She held his eyes in her own from several moments before they broke their embrace. Then she said, “If you are to be my champion you must prepare for battle. Let’s see you do some more.”

  “As my lady wishes,” Conor smiled. “Some putting then we will do.” He picked up his wedge and put his bag on his shoulder and the two of them walked onto the green where he retrieved the balls he’d hit, flipping them into the shag bag with his wedge. He left three balls on the surface and pulled his putter from the bag.

  As he started to take the bag from his shoulder Annie took hold of the strap and pulled it away and put it on her own shoulder. “Your lady is more than just a lady, you know. She can be a caddie too!” she laughed.

  He chuckled, “Aye, so it would seem. But if you’re to be a good caddie you’ll lay the bag on the collar there and tend the flagstick for me.”

  “Yes sir! As you wish, sir!” she joked giving a mock salute. She did as ordered and the two of them continued their playful teasing as he practiced his putts still wearing his crown of eucalyptus. Finally it grew dark with but a sliver of a moon rising to the east.

  He made three putts in a row from six feet and looked up at her. “’Tis now so dark I could be putting with my eyes closed. Have I practiced enough now to satisfy my lady?”

  “Yes you have,” she said. “You may stand down. But come here and be with me.” She pulled his bag onto the green and lay down using the bag as a pillow. “I want to watch the stars come out.”

  Conor took the balls from the hole and put them in the bag. He slid his putter in, took off the wreath and then lay down next to Annie, their shoulders touching. She took his hand in hers. They lay together quietly on the cooling grass for some minutes as the sky darkened further and the stars began to glow.

  She finally spoke. “Do you know any constellations?”

  “Not really. Just sometimes I can make out the Big Dipper. And I am to know Venus as she’s to be so bright.”

  “I don’t know any. That’s why I like to make up my own.”

  “How do you do that?” he asked turning his head to her.

  “I just look in the sky and pick the prettiest stars I see. Then I draw the lines between them and make my own pictures.”

  “Tell me then, what do you see tonight?”