He checks in, pays for his round and strolls toward the driving range with a bucket of balls. He sits on a bench on the far end of the driving range and surveys the tee boxes. He spots a few women hitting balls and moves to the section where most of them are swinging. He pulls his 3 iron from the bag and begins to stretch his back.
David feels empty; he hasn’t been touched by her soul, where is she? The essence of the seventh hole has yet to personify herself.
Two women are hitting the ball quite well, and he decides that he will concentrate on them. If it seems appropriate, he will use the same strategy he used with the fourth hole.
He is warmed up. He sets out his wedges and picks a flag that is 110 yards out. He is working on spinning the ball back to the flag. It requires a downward motion on his swing, and he is picking up some large pieces of grass on the follow through.
He notices that the lady on the right is watching his swing and his ball, but he just can’t connect to her emotionally. He doesn’t feel her.
He finishes with the wedges, cleans them and replaces them in his bag. He pulls a 5 iron and begins working the ball around the 180 yard flag. He is hitting the ball extremely well, and he continues to watch the lady on his right until her male companion arrives.
He turns his focus to a woman behind him who is hitting middle irons. He glances at her out of the corner of his left eye each time he finishes a shot. She has a lot of the characteristics he likes, but he doesn’t believe she can be a par 4. She has too many lines on her face.
He changes to his 3 wood for about a dozen balls and hits the remaining few with his driver. He is ready to play and walks to the practice green until he is called to tee off. It is sunny, warm and humid. He marvels again at how well maintained the course is; it is exceptional for a public course. He will do well; his exhaustion will be his real challenge.
He and his group are called to the first tee. The starter announces: Murdock, Chauncy, Stellman and Stanley. He is apprehensive as he picks up his balls and bag.
Two men are chatting near a golf cart at the first tee. They introduce themselves as Bob Murdock and Dick Chauncy. The three players stand on the men’s tee, taking practice swings until the fairway ahead of them clears. Then they tee off.
They are about to head down the fairway when a second cart speeds up to the tee, passes them and stops at the lady’s tee. A woman jumps out of the cart, takes her driver and hits her ball well down the left side of the fairway. It is crisply hit and rolls a distance further after landing. As the men reach the tee, she turns to them.
“Hi, I’m Kate Stanley. I hope it’s all right if I join you gentlemen. Sorry I’m late, but I couldn’t get my cart going.” She shakes hands with each, then walks back to her cart and drops her driver in the bag.
Murdock says something under his breath that can’t be understood. His playing partner smirks and they jump in their cart and take off.
“Would you like to ride with me?” Kate smiles at David. “I’m a pretty decent player. I wouldn’t be on this course if I couldn’t play at least par.” She pulls her cart up beside him as he walks. “It’s really going to slow us down if you walk and they time us here. We need to keep up a good pace and stay with the players ahead of our group or we’ll be asked to leave the course.”
David stops and looks at her. He just wants to walk back to the tee and off the course, but he fastens his bag to the cart and sits. She stomps on the accelerator and they’re off to find her ball. He tells her they’d better catch up with the others, and they don’t speak for the rest of that hole nor the second.
David makes birdie on each of the first three holes, all par 4’s. His putting has definitely benefited from practice. Kate makes two pars and a birdie on the third, a par 5 for women players. She makes a perfect third shot close to the hole and putts out for birdie with ease.
He compliments her on her play. She is a good player, if only she didn’t constantly talk.
They round the turn by mid-morning, David is 4 under par and Kate is even. They gradually engage in conversation. Their playing partners have kept pretty much to themselves, and everyone has been hitting the ball well enough to cause few delays.
Kate Stanley is a forty-three-year-old registered nurse who lives with her daughter and her mother in her mother’s home in Queens. Kate is talkative, friendly and full of fun. She hasn’t allowed David to maintain his usual laconic demeanor.
He answers her questions reluctantly at first, but then becomes increasingly more responsive, more imaginative with his lies. She is trusting and doesn’t question anything he says. After all, he thinks, it isn’t unusual for a stranger from out of town to be in Long Island for the LPGA Open.
Kate Stanley’s golf game is good. As the round progresses, amidst expressed mutual admiration of one another’s playing, she has provided him with all the information he needs.
He has found his ball and by the end of the round she will be the seventh hole. His course management is forming in his head.
On the 17th tee, he asks her if she would like to attend some of the rounds at the Open with him.
“The Open! I’d love it! I’ve wanted to go for years, but it’s so expensive.” Her brows knit in a frown. “But I can only go on Saturday or Sunday. I work a ten-hour shift at the hospital tomorrow. I’d love to go for the final round on Sunday. My mother and daughter are planning to go to into the City for the weekend.”
She is begging with her eyes. David is ready to tee the seventh hole.
When they reach the clubhouse, she hands him a card with her name, address and phone number.
David promises to call her Friday, tomorrow, to confirm plans for Saturday. He can already sense the moment when she will give her life to the match.
Chapter 53
When he gets in the Navigator, David sets his GPS for the quickest route to Sebonack Golf Club. Parking won’t be a problem thanks to his clubhouse pass. It’s the first day of the Open, and he must walk the course.
Stopping at the clubhouse on his way to the course, he picks up a few scorecards and buys a cap with the LPGA Open logo. He switches caps in the clubhouse restroom, throwing his in a trash container. He looks in the mirror to make sure his hair is hidden; he washes his hands. The cap allows him to blend in with the crowd.
He works his way to the 16th hole, a par 4. If his match plays as he hopes, this hole will be the setup for his seventh hole. The par 4 is treacherous, with fairway bunkers and a green contoured to outwit even the finest of putts.
He stands adjacent to the green. Since it is the first day of the tournament, the pin placement is relatively easy. Birdie is an attainable score today, but by Saturday reading the putts will be more difficult. The 16th hole is one that can make or break a golfer. A tee shot in the fairway bunker, and the player is down a stroke. The green is unreachable from the bunker.
He embraces the character of the hole. He can feel the breeze, the texture of the green, the motion of the balls as they are putted across the surface.
From now until the completion of the seventh hole, David Steadman is the match.
On Friday, he returns to Sebonack Club, so obsessed with the 16th hole that little else interests him. Eventually, he ends up in the trees adjacent to the green, watching group after group putt out.
The hole placement is closer to the back bunker than it was yesterday, and there is a tricky headwind knocking balls down. It is a day when a golfer really needs a longer iron. If she hits a 7 iron for the second shot, today she would need a 6.
He watches attentively as players make bogey after bogey. He would hit a 9 iron to the back of the green and try to draw it. If he could get the ball there it is a much easier putt. But from the top, it is impossible to read and impossible to stop.
He is mindful of the pairs of law enforcement personnel everywhere, although he hasn’t seen any of the flyers at the course. The breeze is just cool enough in the shade that the nylon windbreaker he�
��s wearing is appropriate; no one will see his arm.
When he isn’t watching the game, his mind is full of the match tomorrow afternoon. He is pleased to have found a birdie hole to play for the Open. He plans to do something sensational, something that will set them all back on their heels. But he must be on his way by Monday. He has less than a month to prepare for the Marathon Classic in Sylvania, Ohio.
The day becomes a blur by late afternoon. He works his way back to the clubhouse and takes a shuttle to his car. David is hungry and will have an early dinner.
He calls Kate Stanley at seven and confirms their plans for the following day. He is to pick her up at eight to have breakfast before they head to the Open. She is her usual talkative self, and he has difficulty getting her to hang up. He finally has to end the conversation himself. It turns out to be rather abrupt but he has things to do.
He spreads out the necessary items for the Seventh Hole. The knives receive his attention first. He works each with the stone until the edge is perfect. The large knife, the butcher knife, has a spot of rust on one side. He is more upset than he should be, but he can’t understand how he was so careless. Even when finished with the knife, he continues to chastise himself. He isn’t concentrating on what he’s doing, and while sharpening the boning knife he nicks his thumb on his left hand.
He has to quit work until the bleeding stops. He watches his own blood swirl down the drain in the bathroom. While he waits for the blood on his finger to clot, he thinks of the packing plant nightmare, and again sees all the blood from the dream. The images are still vivid in his mind.
He reaches into the darkness of the blood in the drain, trying to see the figure, the one who couldn’t hear his screams. Straining to see, he thinks it is his father but suddenly has an impression it is a woman. The image sends a shiver down his spine…a woman? No, surely, it was his father.
He finishes with his knives, places each carefully into the sheath and returns it to the briefcase. He unravels the pennant for the seventh hole. He checks for his two packages of plastic coveralls and two plastic caps. He has several pairs of latex gloves and a box of new golf balls. He makes up a fresh vile of sedatives and puts them aside to carry in his light jacket on Saturday. He finds the Sebonack scorecards in his jacket pocket and adds them to the pile. He fills a baby food jar with alcohol and sets it aside for the trophies. He clips today’s Open standings from the newspaper and begins marking out the scramble.
Then he reorganizes everything in the briefcase to be used most efficiently.
He showers late in the evening and shaves his body hair. Finally he lies down to sleep, hoping to sleep without nightmares.
Chapter 54
Briefcase in car, he is on his way to pick up Kate Stanley. It is another perfect day, partly cloudy with a slight breeze.
He turns down her street into a neighborhood called Memory Park. He is intrigued by the houses in the neighborhood. Some look to have been built in the sixties, but there are also some very traditional homes. Based on the style and craftsmanship they probably date back to the nineteenth century. Some are pristinely restored and others in a state of disrepair; it is apparently an area being revived.
He stops in front of 1620 Broad Street. Kate Stanley is sitting on the front steps of a sixties, ranch-style home. The house is well-maintained, and the yard has the look of belonging to someone who enjoys gardening.
He steps from the vehicle and walks toward Kate who is waving to him, motioning for him to come to the house. As he approaches, an older woman and young girl emerge from the house. Kate meets him about halfway.
“Come meet my daughter and my mom.” She reaches for her daughter’s arm and coaxes her out from behind the girl’s grandmother.
“Oh, Samantha, don’t be so silly. This is Mr. Stellman; remember I told you about him? I’d like you to say hello.”
David takes the first step. “Hello, Samantha. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Do you enjoy golf like your mother?”
Samantha, apprehensive, only says, “Hi.”
“And this is my mother, Mrs. Bokeman.”
“Hello, I’m Mary,” she says. “It’s Daniel, isn’t it? Kate is always so formal. You must really like golf to come all the way from Illinois to see this.”
Mary looks like an older version of Kate. Her hair is slightly gray and she is sturdily built, slightly overweight.
Samantha is startlingly pretty. She is wearing shorts and a blouse and a pair of sandals. Her dark brown hair is like her mother’s, and there is a smudge of red jelly on her upper lip.
“Come on, Sam,” Mary turns Samantha toward the open door. “We need to finish our breakfast and get going, too.” She says to David, “Please excuse us,” then asks Kate, “When will you be back? I’m not sure when we’ll be back from the City. I want to return the summer dress I bought for Sam, the one that doesn’t fit, and we’ll probably do some other shopping. Are you two going to have dinner? I doubt we’ll be back before then and you know Sam is going to want a Mc-something and I just can’t say no.”
“I don’t know, Mom, but I’ll take care of myself. If we don’t have dinner, I’ll find something here. We’re planning to go to the Open again tomorrow, so I won’t be late.”
“Okay then!” Mary moves toward the door and looks over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Daniel…I hope it all right if I call you Daniel?” She pauses. “Well, be careful and enjoy the tournament. We’ll see you later.” She pulls the door shut behind her.
Kate Stanley looks at David and he motions to the car.
“You look very nice,” he says. She is neatly put together, wearing shorts, white blouse, white sneakers, blue scarf tied around her neck and a gray sweater tied around her waist.
Kate is as talkative as ever on the way to the shuttle lot for the Open. She talks a lot about Samantha and her mother, who is also a nurse. They work different shifts so that someone is always available to watch Sam. Mary loves to garden but Kate isn’t interested. She spends most of her free time with Sam, and whenever she can, she golfs.
They reach the shuttle and minutes later are at Sebonack Golf Club.
“Where would you like to start?” asks David. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Sure. A diet Coke would be nice.”
They walk to the nearest concession stand. Kate continues to chat as they wait to be served. She likes her job and likes the hours. Her life is mostly consumed by Sam, who is brilliant, in Kate’s opinion, and she wants to give her every opportunity to be happy and succeed in life.
David is finding her incessant prattle increasingly annoying and is additionally put off by the fact that he doesn’t have an opportunity to spike her drink. He hands her the soda and suggests they watch some players tee off.
The day gets quite warm, with further stops at concession stands, giving David several opportunities to add the sedative concoction to her sodas. He has to be extremely careful; Kate is a nurse, and there is a chance she might taste the drugs.
Although she asks for bottled water, he returns with soda and tells her they are out of water. Finally, she complains, wondering why everyone else is drinking water. He shushes her when the “quiet” signs go up in the air so the players can putt.
By mid-afternoon, Kate is crabby, the drugs having completely suppressed her sparkle. She is complaining of not feeling well, and he suggests that they leave.
“Let’s go to the clubhouse, we’ll catch the shuttle back to the car and I’ll take you home. I hope you’re not getting ill. It would be a shame to miss the final round tomorrow.”
“No, I don’t think I’m ill. I shouldn’t have come out today. I worked a long shift last night, and I guess I’m just tired. I’m kind of groggy and woozy. Who knows? The combination of sun and being tired has taken its toll. I’ll be fine tomorrow; I’m looking forward to spending the day with you.”
“I’ll get you a cold drink for the drive home; you’re probably dehydrated. You’ll feel better
when you get some air moving around you.” David helps her to her feet. They are at the 17th hole, a short walk to the clubhouse. She is steady on her feet and he’s glad for that; he doesn’t want to attract any attention.
David picks up another soda when they reach the clubhouse and doctors it while she is in the restroom. She drinks most of it on the way to the car, but the final effects aren’t visible until they get to her house.
She acts suspicious. “You know, I feel just like I’ve been drugged. I feel just like…I can’t understand…”
He pulls up in front of 1620. “Let’s get you inside. You can lie down and rest. I’m sure you’ll be fine with a little sleep.”
He can’t afford for her to resist or fall asleep in the car.
David jumps out and jogs around the front of the car. He opens the door and helps her out. A small girl comes running up to them.
“Can Sam come out and play?” she asks.
“Sam isn’t home, Cindy. She won’t be home until this evening.” Her manner is getting clumsy.
“Okay, Kate.” The little girl runs down the street to where other children are playing.
Kate removes the keys from her pocket when they reach the front door. “I’m sorry I sort of fell apart, I can’t believe I’m so tired. Honest! I’ll be more fun tomorrow!” She kisses him on the cheek and waits, as though expecting him to turn and leave.
“Wait.” He reaches for her keys. “Let me get the door open for you.” Before she can react, he has her keys and is opening the door.
Kate starts to say something, but he nudges her through the door and continues pushing until she falls on the couch. She is startled and tries to resist but loses her balance, and he is on top of her, pressing a pillow against her face.
She fights back, trying to claw at him for what seems a long time. Luckily he has his nylon windbreaker on so she can’t scratch him. The struggle turns into a few muscle spasms, then nothing, and he slowly removes the pillow from her face. She is staring up at him as he watches the color leave her skin.
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