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James Ross - A Young Adult Trilogy (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

Page 15

by James Ross


  “Are you alright Curt?” Paul asked. It was so unusual to see Curt struggle to do the simplest tasks.

  “Yeah, I’m just a little tired,” Curt countered. “I must have risen up too quickly or something.” He assumed his stance, took the club back slowly, and powered a drive down the middle of the fairway.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Paul added as he watched the ball soar into the sky and land over two hundred fifty yards away. “Some things never change.” Curt smiled as he huffed and puffed his way back to his cart.

  “You guys don’t show any mercy to the newcomers, do you?” Dr. DV grumbled in a good natured manner. “We old timers will be lucky to get there in two.” He teed the ball up and laced one about fifteen yards farther than Curt’s drive.

  “Yeah, right,” Curt said as he admired the blast. It was obvious that Dr. DV could play the game. “And I imagine you’re going to tell me next that you need some strokes.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Fred bellowed. “Paul brought some players out here.”

  The group took off in a procession down the cart path. The “cart path only” rule was going to make for an extra-long round. The time it took alone to walk back and forth from the path to the ball would probably add an extra thirty minutes to the round. As Curt approached his ball he noticed that it was covered in mud. He called Justin and Keith over to look at it. “Now, under these conditions we should be playing under the lift, clean, and place rule,” Curt mentioned to the boys.

  “What’s that?” Justin asked.

  “Since it is real soggy out, we should be able to mark the ball, lift it up off the fairway, clean it, and replace it so that we can hit a clean ball,” Curt clarified. He shouted over to Fred. “We should be able to clean the ball today Fred. It’s too wet out!”

  “I agree. Let me run up and tell the guys in front of us.” Fred took off in the cart to tell the first fivesome. Since all of the guys were in the skins game it was important for all of the players to be playing under the same rules.

  “Why bother telling them?” Keith muttered. Justin had a puzzled look.

  “If we didn’t tell them, then we would have an advantage. We’re not out here to cheat our friends. The minute you start doing that is the minute you start losing good buddies,” Curt cautioned Keith. “It’s not about who wins the most quarters at the end of the day. It’s about having fun competing against your friends.”

  “I think that I would want to win the most money,” Keith defended himself.

  “Sure, each and every one of us wants to win all of the money, but that isn’t going to happen every day,” Curt said. “So in the meantime, we’re going to play fair against each other. Besides, if you play enough with the same group of guys, the quarters just get passed around in a circle. We all get a chance to hold them for a few days and give them back the next time we play together.”

  “Look at the new guy,” Keith pointed out. Captain Jer was busy moving the ball roughly ten feet so that he could get a better lie in the rough and get out from behind a tree. It was obvious that he wanted to put the ball in a place where he could get a clear shot at the green.

  Hmmmm. We’ve got a cheater on our hands, Curt thought as he pondered what to do next. Better wait for the right opportunity. “I’ll remind him what the rules are on the next tee box,” Curt told the boys. “After I tell him what the rules are, then you can keep an eye on him.”

  The group finished the first hole and headed for the second tee box. The normal chit chat resumed as they got out of the carts. As they stood on the tee waiting to hit, Curt turned to Dr. DV and said within earshot of Captain Jer, “Typically the way we play it out here is that you get to move the ball the length of a grip. But that’s in the fairway only under the lift, clean, and place rules.” He knew that Dr. DV had been on many golf courses before and he could tell that he was a true gentleman that commanded a lot of respect. He gave the doctor a wink. A slight smile at the crease of Dr. DV’s lips indicated that he understood what Curt was talking about. He returned the wink.

  The round continued amid jokes and camaraderie. All of the players were playing well and the pars and birdies were being spread around. Curt had started to struggle with his conditioning halfway through the front nine. It had gotten so bad on the seventh hole that he instructed Justin to pick the ball up for him. He did not finish, opting instead to stay in the cart.

  “What is wrong with you?” Fred pleaded to Curt as they pulled up to the twelfth green.

  “Maybe it’s all of the mud,” Curt rationalized as he grabbed the putter out of his bag and moseyed to the green. “I’m beat.” He bent over to fix his divot on the green and dropped to one knee. All of the blood seemed to rush out of his head. Curt pinched the bridge of his nose between the eyes. His labored breathing resumed.

  “Can you help him, Dr. DV?” Fred asked.

  “I’m better with animals,” the doctor countered.

  “Let me putt out and then I think I’m going to call it a day,” Curt decided. He wondered how he was going to stand over the ball and putt, let alone make it back to the cart. He lagged the ball down to the hole and motioned for Justin to pick the ball up.

  “You don’t look good,” Justin told him as they stepped gingerly off of the green.

  “I don’t feel too good either. I can hardly hold my shoulders up,” Curt grumbled. “I’m totally pooped.” He poured himself into the passenger’s seat. “You drive us back to the clubhouse, Justin.”

  Paul and Fred as well as Dr. DV and Captain Jer walked over to the golf cart. “You need to get yourself to the doctor,” Paul said.

  “I’ve had an appointment for six weeks,” Curt began. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Can it wait that long?” Fred asked. He had never seen Curt act this way before.

  Curt sprawled out in the front seat of the cart. He had one arm on the back of the seat behind Justin. The other grabbed the rail next to the seat cushion. “Right now I hope I don’t bounce out of here on the way back to the clubhouse. I’ve never felt this tired before.” He started shivering despite being in seventy-five degree weather.

  “Don’t mess around with things,” Paul urged. “You need to get some tests run.”

  “I’ll get everything checked out, but right now I think that I’ll take it in. Go ahead and finish the round. Nice to meet you guys.” Curt extended his hand to Dr. DV and Captain Jer then turned to Justin. “Let’s hit it, Justin. Take us back to the clubhouse.”

  As they disappeared down the cart path, Fred turned to the rest of the group. “I’ve never seen him stop in the middle of a round. As much as he likes to play, he’s gotta be in sad shape.”

  Out of nowhere a young voice broke through the disbelief. “I know he’s hurting,” Keith guaranteed. “He always completes what he started and goes hard to the finish line. At least that’s what I’ve seen the whole week that I’ve been here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Justin and Keith showed up at the crack of dawn the next day. It was Monday morning and the course was open for business as usual. In the public golf world, the courses stayed open on Mondays to get as many dollars through the till as possible. It wasn’t the same at a country club environment.

  They bounded up the stairs two at a time and busted through the door of the clubhouse. Curt was wiping down the counter and making a pot of coffee. “What’s got into you two this morning?” Curt greeted them with an increased energy level.

  “We wanted to see how you were feeling,” Justin responded.

  “Good, just like always,” Curt said as Tina rushed through the clubhouse door

  The concerned look on her face said it all. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” Curt insisted. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Curt, you know I always will,” Tina expressed her concern. “Justin said that you couldn’t finish the round of golf yesterday!”

  “I was just tired. I think that it was the
mud. The course was wet and we had to do more walking than usual back and forth to the ball,” Curt downplayed.

  “You look fine,” Tina admitted. Curt was moving behind the counter as if nothing had been bothering him.

  “I feel fine. I’m okay.”

  “For the life of me I don’t know why you are so darn hardheaded about things!” Tina blasted Curt. “Get yourself to a doctor!”

  “I am, Tina! The appointment’s been scheduled. I’m going this afternoon.” Curt hated to be lectured to.

  “Do you want me to get the boys early?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’ll work for a few hours and you can come and get them around lunch time,” Curt suggested. “They’ve been putting a lot of hours in. They can go home early today.” Justin and Keith were excited about getting half of the day off.

  “Do you want me to drive you to the doctor?” Tina asked adamantly.

  “No, I can get myself over there,” Curt said. “I’m fine.”

  “Well you wouldn’t be going to the doctor if you were fine,” she nagged.

  “It’s my annual checkup. I’m just going a few months later this year,” Curt maintained.

  “Why didn’t you go when you were supposed to?” Tina badgered him some more.

  “We had a golf trip this spring and I had to reschedule it,” Curt said as he tried to shield himself from her onslaught of questions.

  “And see what all of this golf stuff has caused,” Tina stressed.

  “What golf stuff?”

  “Your trip. It caused you to miss your annual checkup,” Tina kept after him.

  “Tina, would you cut it out?” Curt raised his voice. She had increased his ire. “What difference does it make if I go for my check up in March or June?”

  “If you were on time they might have been able to catch it before it was too late!”

  “Catch what?” Curt questioned.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Tina yelled back.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fine!”

  “No you’re not or you wouldn’t be going to the doctor!”

  “I give up,” Curt said as he threw his hands into the air. The elevated tension caused him to lean over and place his head on the counter. Her line of questioning reminded him why he had not been keen to marry her years before.

  “See,” Tina replied in a gentle voice.

  “See what?” Curt buried his face in his hands. Deep down he knew better than to ask her a question.

  “You’re not feeling good,” Tina pointed out. “I can see it in your face.”

  Curt was clearly frustrated. “What you can’t see is how much I want to smack you.” He looked squarely into her eyes and grinned. “Thanks for your concern. Now get out of here. I’ll be fine.”

  “No, you won’t. I don’t have a good feeling about all of this.”

  “Tina, stop it.” Curt counted to three. “Please.”

  As if on cue, Tina gathered her purse and looked over to Justin. “Give mommy a hug.”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “Mom!” he whined, embarrassed that she talked to him like that in front of the other guys.

  “Oh, come here,” Tina demanded as she hugged her youngest son. She headed for the door. “Let me know if I can do anything for you,” Tina directed her comment toward Curt.

  “You’ll be the first that I call,” Curt assured her.

  Tina waved to the guys. “Bye. See you at lunch time.” She exited the door and walked to the parking lot.

  Curt turned to Justin and Keith. “Now do you two see the main difference between men and women?” The two teenage boys had just witnessed an exchange between an adult male and an adult female. They both looked puzzled. “It’s gets worse the older you get,” Curt said. “Let’s go out and get the carts ready, then we’ll take a morning run.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It had been a little over a year since Curt had his annual checkup. Everything had been fine at that time. The only thing that seemed to be cause for concern this time around was the shortness of breath that he had been experiencing the last several months. He was grateful that he could take the elevator to the third floor office instead of the stairs. The walk down the long hall was difficult enough.

  Dr. Isaiah Henry had been Curt’s general practitioner for years. The two of them had met at a scramble tournament many, many years earlier. One thing led to another and the two of them ran around socially for a while. They had been to a Halloween party a couple of decades earlier and Dr. Henry had worn a costume that rivaled one of the rock groups of the 1970s. Dr. Henry’s look raised a lot of eyebrows as the alcohol flowed. In the wee hours someone mentioned how butch he looked. The phrase caught on. From that time forward the nickname stuck and Dr. Henry went by Butch, not Isaiah.

  Curt had been going to Butch’s office for such a long time that he rarely saw the doctor. After updating his personal information and insurance data he was led to a room to wait for an assistant. That was generally the routine at Dr. Henry’s office. Curt knew the schedule. As much as he wanted to reminisce with Butch, Curt had a feeling that some assistant just out of med school was going to actually be the one that honored the appointment. He patiently waited as a young nurse checked his vital signs.

  As Curt sat on the table he tried not to rip the paper that covered the cushion. The drab four walls seemed to never change from year to year. The sink in the corner had an ample supply of antiseptic soap. Curt watched the second hand tick around the clock. He knew the time was near when he heard noise from papers being rustled outside the door.

  As the door opened, Curt’s mouth flew open. Where does Butch find them? Curt wondered. Standing in the doorway was a Scandinavian beauty, five-foot eight inches, with blonde hair and blue eyes. There is no way this gal is over thirty, Curt thought. If her breasts weren’t augmented then she was the by-product of the most amazing genes in the Nordic world. If her brain is half as good as her looks, then I’m in for some outstanding care.

  “Curt Schroeder?” asked the voice with a Swedish accent. Curt worked his eyes up from her body and slowly felt his gaping mouth close. All he could muster was a sheepish nod. “Kimber Svenson.” The young doctor extended her hand to introduce herself. “I’m Dr. Henry’s assistant.”

  Oh my Lord is she going to be the one that checks me for a hernia? Curt mused. He lost track of time as the thoughts raced through his brain. “Glad to meet you. Just wish it was under different circumstances,” he blurted. She looked at him and smiled. Oh my, did I actually say that? How stupid did that sound? I wonder if she knows what I’m really thinking.

  “I understand that you are in for your yearly check up,” Dr. Svenson started. Curt nodded. He was still speechless. “Have you been experiencing any problems?”

  “Uh . . . well . . . uh . . . the only thing that has been real different . . . uh . . . as of late is that I . . . uh . . . can’t catch my breath,” Curt stammered. It felt as if it took five minutes to utter a simple answer. I must sound like a real idiot.

  “When you exert yourself heavily?” Dr. Svenson asked.

  Just when I have sex, Curt caught himself momentarily. He jolted his head a few times to shake out the cobwebs and then shook his head negatively. “No, only when I do simple things.” After a brief break in concentration his composure had returned. “Like getting the mail, or taking out the trash, or even going upstairs to bed.”

  “Is that it?” she probed further.

  “It just feels like I’m always out of gas. Tired. Pooped. All of the time,” Curt continued. He really wanted to open up and let the doctor know exactly what he had been going through. “You know, I’ll go home and get a good nights’ sleep. After I wake up and take a shower I want to lay back down and sleep some more.”

  “Hmmmm. That doesn’t sound right,” the doctor replied. She flipped through the charts. “Blood pressure is normal. Your heart beat is running high.”

  “That’s what I though
t too,” Curt agreed. “I have a home unit that monitors my vitals and for the life of me I can’t figure out why my heartbeat is elevated. I’ve always been in good shape.”

  “Have you noticed any loss of blood?’ she questioned.

  “No,” Curt said, “if I cut myself shaving it might take a while to stop it because I’m taking aspirin to thin my blood. My cardiologist wanted that.”

  Doctor Svenson nodded. “How about your stool?”

  “Nah, nothing.”

  “What I’d like to do is take a blood test,” Doctor Svenson said.

  “I would too,” Curt concurred. “If there is something going on, then maybe that will indicate a potential problem.”

  Doctor Svenson wrote out an order for lab work. “They can do this right here in our own building,” she said. “Go down to the lab right now and we can have the results back in less than an hour.”

  “Do you want me to wait?” Curt asked.

  “No, it’s just a good place to start,” she said. “I’ll give you a call and we can go from there.”

  Curt was of the same opinion. He nodded his head. “Say, how long have you been with Butch . . . er . . . uh . . . Dr. Henry?”

  “This is my third week,” Doctor Svenson answered.

  “Let’s find out what’s going on,” Curt said.

  “Getting the blood work done is a good place to start,” she reiterated. “We’ll get a comprehensive report.” She ripped off the lab order, handed it to Curt, and opened the door to leave. “We’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

  His eyes dropped to her derriere as she walked out the door. Man, oh man, oh man. I wonder if she plays golf. We can use some new scenery.

  Curt made his way down two floors to the lab. After turning in the order, he only had to wait a minute before a cute and robust nurse burst through the door in the waiting area and called his name. She held the door open for him and he noticed her round face with its touch of pink rouge and how the ruby red lipstick contrasted so beautifully against her dark caramel skin. He followed her to a cubicle and took a seat in a chair that looked similar to the easy chair that he had in his home. Curt quickly put the chair in a reclining position.

 

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