Tuesday's Caddie

by Jack Waddell

  “Well, see that bright star over there?” she said pointing. “The one that if you look at it long enough seems to glimmer with red? That’s the brave beating heart of my champion golfer. I can clearly see his outline around it. I call it my ‘Conor the Champion.’ constellation.”

  Conor chuckled. “’Tis a good imagination you have to see a champion before he’s to earn such a noble title.”

  “No, I do, really. I see it just as clearly as we see all the stars above. Now, what do you see up there?”

  “What am I to see?” Conor mused. “I should start with the moon – a golden crescent like my fair lady’s hair just a glowing in the night. From there I see two stars shining bright like her eyes. Below that there’s to be a string of stars that gleam like her perfect white teeth. It’s my lady’s face I see. And a lovely face it is to fill the sky with such beauty. 'Tis called "Anna my Queen'.”

  Annie turned her face to him. “You’re a sweet man, you know.”

  “Sweet I am, is it? Sweet like candy or sweet like the sorrow of a song?”

  “Sweet like this.” She moved to him and kissed him gently on the lips.

  He rolled to his side and put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. He returned her kiss with a passion that she could feel course through her entire body. She moved closer to him still and put her hand behind his head to hold him in the kiss. He felt her begin to melt in his arms. The kiss ended and they held each other tight feeling the warmth of the other as the dew began to rise on the grass beneath them.

  “I guess we should get up before we get too wet,” she finally said softly.

  “Aye. I don’t want you to be catching your death of cold out here.”

  They rose from the green. Conor picked up his things. “It must be time for you to go. Let me walk you to your car.”

  “Are you staying here tonight in that house? What’s it called? The Bogey House?”

  “Aye, if there’s to be nobody using it tonight.”

  “Well, then, let me walk you home instead!”

  They made their way through the gap in the hedge and then walked holding hands up the lane to the bungalow. There was no candle lit in the window. Billy had gone home. They walked to the back of the house where Conor lifted the cellar door and put the bags next to Annie’s. “I’ll take your clubs up to the clubhouse in time for next week. They’ll be safe.”

  “Can I see inside where you’re staying?” she asked.

  “I don’t know… Gino… he gave me some rules…”

  “It’s for members, really, isn’t it? And aren’t I a member?”

  “Aye, but…”

  “Just let me see.”

  Conor nodded and took her hand. They walked around to the front and up the stoop. He took the key from under the mat and opened the door and let her in. He followed behind and left the door ajar. He went to the table and put down his hat and his wreath. He took off his jacket and laid it across the arm of a chair then lit a candle and put it in the window.

  “You said that’s so people would know not to come in, right?”

  “Aye, that’s right.”

  “Good. Now turn on some light so I can see the place.”

  Conor went to the floor lamp next to the sofa and turned it on.

  “Cozy,” she said looking around. “Quite cozy. Is there a kitchen too?”

  “Aye, in the back.”

  “Show me.”

  Conor walked to the kitchen door, turned on the light and went in. Annie followed him.

  “My,” she said opening the icebox door. “They certainly do keep this place well stocked. I can see why members would like to stay here.”

  “’Tis truly to be like a real house. And ‘tis our house right now. Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

  “No, not hungry, but maybe thirsty. Can I have some water?”

  “As my lady wishes,” Conor smiled. He began opening the cupboard doors looking for a glass. The second door he opened was a liquor cabinet. The next held the glasses.

  “After the water would you share a drink with me? A little Scotch maybe? Just to take the chill off?” Annie asked.

  “Aye, ‘twould be a lovely idea.” Conor went to the sink, drew some water and handed her the glass. She drank it down. Then he poured two Scotches neat, in small snifters, from the second bottle he and Billy had started the night before. “Let us have these in the front room as if we were to be the lord and lady of the manor.”

  Annie smiled and followed him into the living room. She turned off the floor lamp saying, “I’ve always liked the light from just a candle.”

  They sat down close to each other on the sofa. She lifted her glass. “We should have a toast. Here’s to the stars in the sky. Would there be as many days as there are stars that we could share like this.”

  Conor looked into her eyes. “And here’s to my lady, the fairest in all the land.”

  They touched glasses and took a sip. “Do you happen to have a cigarette?” she asked him. “I left mine in the car with my purse.”

  “Aye, I do.” Conor rose from the couch and went to the front door and closed and latched it. He took out his cigarettes and matches from his jacket and returned to the sofa. He took one and put it in his lips, lit it and handed it to Annie. Then he lit one for himself.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It always feels so good to relax a bit after golf.”

  They sat in the dim glow sipping their drinks. In the quiet Conor could feel a tension building inside him, between them. He could feel her next to him, this beautiful woman who had filled his dreams and who now wanted to be with him, to sit beside him alone in the candlelight. This wasn’t a beginning. It had already begun. He leaned forward and put out his cigarette in the ashtray and turned to her. “Annie,” he said softly. “What are we doing? Where are we to be going with this?”

  Annie gave a small smile, leaned forward and put out her cigarette and placed her glass on the table. As she sat back she looked off at the candle and answered, “I don’t know where we’re going. I only know where we are.” She turned and looked at him. “And where we are is together.”

  Conor took a last sip and put down his glass. “Aye. And ‘tis where we’re supposed to be.” He turned and reached for her and pulled her close. He kissed her deeply. He could feel her yield to him then return his kiss.

  Still in his embrace she moved to whisper in his ear, “This is how I want to live… with a man I truly love.”

  “Then come live with me and be my love,” he whispered back.

  “And we will some new pleasures prove,” she breathed.

  They kissed again, then again. They eased their hold on each other. Conor stood and held out his hand for her. She took it and rose and put her hands around his neck and kissed him again. His hands moved to her waist. He turned her and led her to the bedroom. They left open the door to let the candlelight in.

  * * *

  Conor woke first, used to rising early as he was. It was still dark but the light coming through the window from the maintenance yard was enough to paint a glow across the head of the bed. He looked over at her nestled on his shoulder. He thought she looked like an angel. He lay there for some time watching her sleep. Finally she stirred. Her eyelids began to flutter. He kissed her on her forehead. “’Tis time,” he whispered.

  Annie opened her eyes and looked into his. She closed them again and snuggled still closer to him. “Hmm,” she breathed as she laid her arm across his chest. “I don’t want this time to end.”

  He kissed her lightly again on the forehead. “’Tis but the moment must end, not our time. But we must leave before the crew starts to be coming in.”

  “I know, I know. But hold me now.” They held each other tightly feeling again their bodies fit together as one. They kissed and nuzzled. She finally eased her embrace and moved to sit up holding the sheet up against her.

  “I’ll get up,” she said. “But I’d rather spend the rest of my life here
with you.” She rose up and dragged the sheet with her leaving Conor naked on the bed. She laughed as he scrambled for a pillow to cover himself. “You needn’t be modest now!” she chided in jest as she wrapped the sheet around her body. “I’ll be seeing more of that another time.”

  Conor blushed and watched as she turned and walked to the bathroom, her bare back revealing the dimples just above her buttocks. He began to stir and knew he mustn’t. He got up and dressed quickly. He went into the kitchen, turned on the light and began making coffee.

  Annie opened the bathroom door ajar and called to him. “Could you be a dear and bring me my clothes?”

  “Aye, my lady, though I like you better as you are,” he called back. He returned to the bedroom and searched about the floor and bed for her clothes. He gathered them neatly and brought them to the bathroom door. He knocked. “’Tis your manservant with your wardrobe, my lady.”

  She opened the door slightly and stuck out her hand and took the clothes. “Thank you, Jeeves. You may now return to your duties,” she decreed with a chuckle.

  Conor laughed and went back to the kitchen and finished making the coffee. Annie finally emerged and joined him at the table looking perfectly put together.

  “The members certainly do have this place ready for anything,” she said. “I actually found everything I needed in there.”

  Conor looked at her. “You need nothing to be as beautiful as you are.”

  She smiled. “You are too sweet.” They finished their coffee and got up from the table. “I guess we must be off,” she said. “Can I drive you home?”

  “No, I’m to be staying here to clean up a bit. But let me walk you out to the car.”

  The air was still chilly as they emerged from the bungalow. He held her by the waist as she wrapped her arm around his shoulder. When they reached the car he turned to her and held her close.

  “When will I see you again?” he asked.

  “You must work hard to get ready for your tournament. And I’m busy too. But I was thinking maybe this weekend…?”

  Conor deflated. "No, I'm to have plans. I'm to be helping my cousin with something."

  "Oh," she said. "Well, then maybe after that?"

  “Aye, after that then.” He pulled her close and kissed her fully.

  She moved away and opened the car door. “Wait,” she said. “I want to give you something.” She leaned into her car and went into her purse. She came back out with her handkerchief in her hand. She pressed it into his hand. “Here, this is for you to carry into battle in your Calcutta. A lady always gives her knight a talisman to carry. So this is for you. And for luck.”

  Conor looked down at it and saw the yellow tulip embroidered in the corner. He lifted it to his face and smelled her on it. “Carry this I will. And think of you as I do.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Thank you, my lady. Thank you for everything.”

  “I must go now,” she said. She got into the car and Conor closed the door behind her.

  “Be safe. And I will see you soon,” he said.

  “Yes, you will my love.”

  Conor leaned through the window and kissed her again. “My love,” he whispered. He backed out of the window as she started the car then moved away as she backed up and turned up the lane. She waved from the window as she drove away.

  Conor waved back and watched the Cadillac disappear up the hill. Then he walked slowly back to the Bogey House his thoughts filled with his Annie.

  (back to top)

  Chapter 20

  Agua Caliente

  Saturday, May 17, 1930

  The first thing he noticed was the dust. It was yellowish with a faint tinge of orange. It looked as if it could have been scraped off the side of one of the old adobe missions spaced from Baja all the way to Northern California. Conor was sitting in Billy's car waiting to go through the customs checkpoint into Tijuana when he first saw it drifting through the air up ahead of them. When they finally rolled forward into town he saw that it colored everything; the buildings, the cars, the storefronts, the windows of the cantinas, the signs in Spanish, the signs in English, the gravelly pavement, the web of telephone and electric lines strung helter-skelter overhead, the dark men with darker eyes sitting on their haunches against building walls, the women in slim skirts and low cut blouses slouched in shadows arms akimbo, the sweating tourists with cameras strung from their necks and paper bags of cheap treasure in their hands shuffling along the sidewalks, the little brown street urchins wiping windshields and hawking postcards and souvenirs and trinkets and shouting out about tours and tickets to the corrida and good times with tequila and tacos and pretty young conchitas, "Quiero un buen momento?"

  They had to roll up their windows despite the stifling heat to repel boarders as the more resolute among the horde loped alongside and leapt onto the running boards to jabber insistently and thrust their wares into the faces of the gringos. Billy had to drive carefully to avoid the dodgers and weavers positioning themselves for their assaults. Traffic was slow as every car entering Tijuana ran the same gauntlet; so slow that soon every car carried its own mantle of the dust. Through the haze they could feel eyes jealously appraising the dark gray Lincoln coupe and its occupants slowly crawling by. Conor reached down to feel the buttoned back pocket of his trousers. The envelope was still there.

  The ride down from Los Angeles had been uneventful, if long. For the most part Conor had enjoyed the scenery and the glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. Conversation in the car had been light. Billy's jaw still hurt some. It had given Conor time to reflect on Annie. The past three nights he'd fought the urge to look for her, to be with her again. But he resisted and focused on golf and preparing for the Calcutta. But he knew he couldn't wait for Tuesday. It seemed a lifetime away. Now, in this foreign landscape, it seemed farther away than ever.

  It wasn't far to the racetrack, maybe three miles. Once out of the downtown the road ran past houses little more than huts huddled together haphazardly in a hodgepodge of bright clashing colors topped by rusting tin roofs. Just before reaching the track they passed the Tijuana Country Club, the only green earth they had seen since crossing the border. Conor made a note of it.

  Agua Caliente had opened in late December as part of the boom in Tijuana ignited by prohibition and California's anti-gambling laws. Whatever was illegal in California was legal in Tijuana, or at least easy to get. And Conor and hundreds more like him saw all of it from the car on the way to the track. Many would stop on the way back to imbibe.

  They arrived in time to catch the third race. Conor wanted to place Michael's bet immediately, but Billy told him to wait and see how the odds were going and get a look at the horse in the paddock before they put their money down. Conor couldn't understand it because he was going to place the bet no matter what they saw. He had to. But Billy was insistent. While they waited they had beers and hot dogs and watched two races from the grandstand. Billy made a few small wagers complaining that he knew nothing of the horses running that day. None of them ran in the money. After the fifth race they walked out to the paddock.

  Copper Cal was being walked. The sun was beating down and the big horse was already lathered after but a few laps of the paddock. Billy watched him intently. "So this is our great horse?" he asked with no little sarcasm. Then he leaned into Conor's ear. "I'm not sure I'd put a nickel on him. See how he favors that right foreleg? Looks like a bowed tendon. They've been running him too hard on the dope is what I think."

  Conor didn't want to hear that. "Aye, but I'm sure my cousin has seen the same. I can't be doing anything but to place the bet like he wants."

  "That tendon could have showed up this morning. I think you'd be doing your cousin a favor by passing."

  "And what if he were to win? What do I say to my cousin? My friend the playboy thought he was a loser?"

  Billy scowled. "Look, pal, I'm just trying to help. Do what you want. Why don't you think about betting half what he gave you?"

 
; Conor was starting to lose patience. "Understand my cousin made the bet when he gave me the money. I'm only putting it down for him. I can't be second-guessing him. As I was to be telling you, he knows his horses."

  "Suit yourself. I'm passing."

  Conor turned and walked away back toward the clubhouse. Billy followed trailing him. Conor made his way to the betting windows and got in line. Billy stood back and watched as Conor got to the window and took the envelope from his back pocket and counted out the money. He took some satisfaction seeing Conor not make a bet of his own. The clerk handed Conor the ticket and he put it in his back pocket and buttoned it. He walked back to Billy and the two wordlessly made their way down to the rail to a spot just before the finish line.

  As they waited for the race Conor kept his gaze out over the track at the barren hills in the distance, hills the color of the dust. Billy looked at the tote board on the infield. Copper Cal was going off at nine to one. He turned back to look up at the grandstand full of Americans slaking their thirst for the possible in a time of impossibility in a land of impropriety. He was scanning the crowd for pretty women when he heard the bugle blare the call to the post. He turned and with Conor watched the horses parade past. Copper Cal would run from the fourth post position. He was bigger than the other horses in the race and fractious. An outrider had to come in to help guide him around to the gate. He was the last one into gate as it took three grooms wrestling his halter and saddle to pull and push him in. The instant the doors closed behind him the bell rang and the gates sprang open. They were off.

  The track announcer called the race in English. He only mentioned Copper Cal's name once in his nasal staccato: "…And as they enter the far turn it's Bully Boy in the lead with Hard Way coming fast on the outside… a horse is down!… a horse is down!… Copper Cal has fallen…" and then he continued his call as if Copper Cal had never existed.

  Billy and Conor gave each other a look then stared back across the infield. They could see the motionless lump in the distance and the jockey struggling to his feet. Then the field came thundering down the home stretch and blocked their view as the crowd roared at the finish.

  Conor turned away and shook his head. "Should have listened to you. Damn it anyway."