by James Ross
“Let’s hit it guys!” Fred yelled to the group. “Curt, Pork Chop, Dr. DV, and Captain Jer can play a foursome. You guys can go out first. It will be me and Paul, Paco, Elia, and BT in the other group. There’s a quarter on all skins and greenies.” He glanced over to J Dub. “It’s okay if we play a fivesome, isn’t it?”
“Just stay up with the group in front of you. We need to keep the griping from the other customers to a minimum,” J Dub said.
“Justin, you and Keith can get everybody loaded,” Curt said as he motioned to the boys.
“Here,” Captain Jer said to Keith as he handed him a cooler. “One of you is going to have to ride with Curt and the other can go with Dr. DV. Put my clubs and the cooler in the cart with Pork Chop.” It was insightful that Captain Jer realized that the boys needed to ride with the responsible ones in the foursome.
“It’s only seven-thirty in the morning. Are you going to drink all of those beers out on the course?” Justin asked as he grabbed the other cooler.
“I’m going to try,” Captain Jer said. “There are only twelve of ’em in those coolers. If they’re done by the turn then we’ll come back in and fill ’em up for the back nine.” He popped a beer that Julie had given him and took a healthy swig. Captain Jer then grinned at Julie, gave her a wink and smooched in her direction. After waddling to the door he bent forward at the waist, bent over and wiggled his butt for her to see. Next he kicked the door open and sauntered to the cart with a beer in each hand.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Captain Jerry Stafford was an interesting character to say the least. His travels with the military had exposed him to parts of the world that were only known to a few governmental agencies. He had been to deserted islands, rocks in the middle of the sea, and in air space and water space that no one else had ever occupied. After leaving the military, he worked for a number of years in the commercial airline industry and had the opportunity to visit everywhere from Tokyo to Rome to Rio de Janeiro to Stockholm.
He had seen it all and he had done it all. Now it was time for him to retire, drink beer every day, play golf . . . . and get it on with as many women as his wife would allow.
Justin and Keith had been doing a good job of spotting the balls and being forecaddies more-or-less. After every shot they would wipe the clubs off for anyone in the group. Curt thought that it was a great way for them to learn the game of golf. Hitting the ball was one thing, but learning the idiosyncrasies and the etiquette of the game was another. With them traveling around with a foursome, the boys could indoctrinate themselves to the game and get a better understanding of what was involved. He thought it would be a valuable experience that they would appreciate as they grew older. Not every kid had an opportunity to do that while growing up, so in some respects, they were very fortunate.
The fifth hole at Prairie Winds was a par three. More often than not, if there was a backup that occurred on the course, it was on that tee box. Captain Jer popped the tab on another beer can as the group waited for the green to clear. “How many is that?” Pork Chop asked as he peered into the basket behind the seat.
“I think there is only one more cold one left in that first cooler,” Captain Jer responded.
“Are you on some sort of a mission today?” Curt followed.
“No. No. No, I’m on vacation,” Captain Jer countered, “and a long one I might add,” as he referenced his retirement. “I hope that it continues.”
“If you don’t back off a little your kidneys and liver won’t make it,” Dr. DV warned.
“Are you going to drive him home after the round?” Curt questioned.
Dr. DV shook his head up and down. “Yeah, we drove over together. He needs somebody to get him there.”
The boys had been witnessing the beer guzzling of Captain Jer and had been kibitzing during the wait. Keith was inquisitive. “You didn’t fly airplanes drunk like that, did you?”
“No way!” Captain Jer said, “The FAA was strict about alcohol.”
“Then why are you drinking so much now?” Justin inquired. “Doesn’t it affect how you golf?”
“I’m so bad at this game that the beer actually helps,” Captain Jer replied.
“Until he passes out or his eyes are closed shut,” Pork Chop interjected.
“If you like to drink beer this much, then how did you ever learn to fly an airplane?” Justin asked.
“That’s a long story and goes all the way back to when I was a teenager,” Captain Jer began as he took a healthy swig out of the can.
“Like when you were our age?” Keith asked.
“I was a little older than that,” Captain Jer corrected. “Eighteen actually.”
“You were eighteen years old when you flew your first plane!” Justin exclaimed. He was impressed that anyone could fly their own plane at such an early age.
Captain Jer nodded his head. “Yeah, there wasn’t anything to it. It was a single engine Beechcraft.”
“How did you learn how to fly the jets?” Keith asked. Both the boys were impressed that a man who could drink so much beer could fly such an enormous aircraft.
“It was sort of a progression of things,” Captain Jer went on to explain, “or maybe an accident. I was down in Tucson minding my own business and didn’t exactly know what I was going to do for the rest of my life.” The boys were all ears. “Then the Army drafted me.”
“What did you do?” Justin asked.
Captain Jer looked at the other men standing on the tee box and shouted, “I about crapped in my pants!”
“You didn’t want to go?” Keith asked. He imagined that something like that would be difficult to handle.
“No, not really,” Captain Jer said. Then he backpedaled a little. “But you kids don’t have to worry about making decisions like that. There isn’t a draft right now.” He raised the beer can to his lips and took another gulp. A mild hiccup followed.
“I bet you were scared,” Justin said.
“It wasn’t so much that, but it was more the uncertainty that came with it,” Captain Jer said as he downplayed the significance of the service. “Back then I had started taking a huge interest in flying and the Army didn’t offer the type of advancement in that area that I was looking for.”
“So, what did you do?” Keith asked.
“I did a little finagling and got myself in the Coast Guard instead,” Captain Jer rambled on.
“I thought that the Coast Guard was all about boats,” Justin said. He was confused as to how the boats had anything to do with the airplanes.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Captain Jer went on. “As it turned out, getting into the Coast Guard was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
The foursome ahead putted out and was heading off the green. “Come on,” Pork Chop urged. “Let’s hit. Jer can finish his story on the next tee box. The guys knocked their balls in the direction of the green on the par three. After playing the hole, the group headed for the next tee box.
Justin and Keith were absorbed in the story. They were inquisitive as to what happened next in Jerry’s life. “I still don’t understand how the boats and the planes had anything to do with each other,” Justin commented to Captain Jer.
“Stop and think about it,” Captain Jer began. “Hold on a second.” He reached into the cooler and grabbed another can of ice cold beer. Then Captain Jer popped the tab and enjoyed another plentiful gulp of ale. “Boys, they sure are going down smooth today,” he announced to anyone wanting to listen.
“Come on, Captain Jer,” Keith prodded, “we want to hear the end of the story.”
“I’m glad somebody does. Most of these guys around here just think that I’m some drunk.” Captain Jer exchanged glances with Dr. DV and Curt and grinned.
“You probably do drink too much beer,” Justin admitted.
Captain Jer stuck his tongue out at Justin. The alcohol was kicking in. “You sound like a couple of my ex-wives.”
“You do!” Keith hollered
. “These other guys came out here to play golf and all you want to do is get drunk.”
“It relaxes me and makes me a better player,” Captain Jer said.
“Come on, Captain Jer. Finish your story,” Justin begged.
Captain Jer looked at the two boys like they were dog-pecker gnats circling around his head. “Stop and think about it.” In a slow and deliberate, almost childlike manner, he pronounced the words very elementarily. “It’s . . . the . . . Coast . . . Guard.” He paused to let the words soak in. “We guarded the coast.”
“It’s time to hit,” Pork Chop announced. “We’re out here to play golf today instead of telling fairy tales.” Curt, Dr. DV, and Pork Chop laced drives down the middle. Captain Jer hit a wicked slice about seventy-five yards off line. “I thought you said that beer relaxed you,” Pork Chop chided him.
The round kept going and Captain Jer continued the story as the moments allowed. During one break in the action Justin thought that he had the situation figured out. “If you guarded the coast, then the boats were on the water and you flew the planes to help the boats, right?”
Captain Jer was starting to slip into a drunken stupor. “It sort of works like that,” he began anew. “The international waters are twelve miles off of our coast.”
“And if the enemy gets closer than twelve miles then you went and got them,” Keith guessed.
Captain Jer rolled his eyes and started laughing. “We would patrol twelve miles out to sea in the boats. But our territorial waters reached out two hundred miles from our coast.”
“That was where the planes came in,” Justin deduced.
“I guess you could say that.” Captain Jer stopped and raised the beer can to his mouth once again. “You know, you kids have a lot of questions today. I don’t know if my brain is going to be able to handle all of the overtime you’re putting me through.”
“We’re only trying to figure out how you got to fly jets,” Keith said in his own defense.
“And right now you’re on a boat,” Justin added.
Captain Jer sent a dazed look of frustration toward Justin. “We had command posts and intelligence centers that were located on the land,” Captain Jer relented. “They were based in South Florida and Texas. At least those were the ones that I was familiar with. But they’re up in Alaska too and on the West Coast as well.”
The boys were intently paying attention to the story that Captain Jer had continued. “You got a chance to go to Alaska, too!” Justin called out.
“Sure. The coast of Alaska is only like fifty-four miles from Russia. We really took advantage of our two hundred mile territorial rights up there in the Bering Sea,” Captain Jer went on.
“Did you ever go to the Artic Ocean?” Justin inquired.
“Yeah, I’ve been up there a couple of times.” Captain Jer went to the cooler and grabbed another beer. “And it was as cold up there as this beer is down here.” He took a swig and let out a burp. His eyes were almost closed.
“I still don’t know what you did with the planes,” Keith reiterated.
Captain Jer figured that the best way for him to get away from all the questions was to start volunteering more information. “Where the planes came in was when I was flying reconnaissance flights down over the Gulf of Mexico. At the time the US government had a big fight going on over drugs.”
“And you tried to catch the bad guys,” Justin surmised. “That was what I said a long time ago.”
Captain Jer once again downplayed his involvement. “Yeah, I guess that I did. But I will say this; it was the most exciting time of my life.”
“Tell us what happened,” Keith pleaded.
Captain Jer was on center stage with the two teenagers. He ran his hand through his silver hair. His tanned face soaked up the hot, morning sun. It was only mid-morning but the buzz was kicking in. “You’re more interested in hearing my stories than playing golf today it sounds like.”
“Kind of like you’re more interested in drinking beer than playing golf, too,” Justin said.
That forced a smile out of Captain Jer. “Okay, here’s one for you. One day we were tracking a single engine Beechcraft that we had picked up leaving Florida. It was flying to one of those island countries down there in the Caribbean. So, we radioed ahead to the government to ask for clearance to follow the plane to its destination.”
“Did you catch them?” Justin asked.
“No. Well yes. I don’t know,” Captain Jer stammered. “When we radioed ahead to the island government to get clearance, they sent their own Cessna out to intercept the plane.”
“So you didn’t really catch them,” Justin responded slightly disappointed.
Captain Jer didn’t want to dissolute the boys. “ . . . Not exactly. The Cessna that the other government had in their fleet shot them right out of the sky. The plane dove into the ocean.” Captain Jer shrugged his shoulders. “Some of the governments down in the islands have zero tolerance for the drug runners.”
“Wow! Just like that,” Keith stated with amazement.
“Because they had drugs?” Justin questioned.
Captain Jer shook his head up and down. “ . . . Yep. We were sure of it. The registration number on the plane was not registered with any flight plan and had been known to us for a while. They paid a hefty price.”
“Would you guys get a move on it?” Pork Chop yelled over at Captain Jer and the boys. “We’re out here to play golf. Not only are you a lousy golfer Jer, but you’re playing slow and you’re drunk.”
“But he’s got some great stories, Pork Chop,” Keith insisted.
“Then save them for the clubhouse. We’ve got bets going on out here,” Pork Chop shouted back. The delays were annoying him.
“What other stories do you have, Captain Jer?” Justin asked.
“Let’s hurry over to the next tee box so Pork Chop won’t get all worked up,” Captain Jer suggested. “Keith, hand me another one of the cold beers.” Keith reached into the cooler and grabbed a cold can. “How many are left?”
“It looks like two more after this one,” Keith replied as he peered into the ice.
“We’re coming up to the turn. I’ll pound those down real quick so we can get a refill after number nine,” Captain Jer responded.
“Aren’t you drunk enough yet?” Justin asked.
Captain Jer had the grin of a Cheshire cat. He flashed his pearly whites. “I’m getting there.”
“Tell us another one,” Keith insisted.
“We hooked up on another drug runner one night. It was pitch black out over South Florida and the plane started flying pretty low. As we followed, the plane flew over the west coast of Florida and into the Gulf of Mexico. Then it took a nosedive into the water.”
“What happened with that one?” Justin wondered.
“We started putting the pieces together the next day. The best we could figure out was that the pilot knew that we were onto him. Then he went over land to parachute out. He sent the plane back out over water after he jumped out and it eventually ran out of fuel.”
“Wow!” Keith exclaimed.
“You know, there was so much money in the drugs that the bad guys would sacrifice the plane to get away. It was viewed an expendable asset,” Captain Jer rationalized for the boys. “Hold on a second.” The beer was starting to be recycled. Captain Jer walked over to the woods and relieved himself.
Dr. DV turned up his ire. “Jerry, what the heck are you doing?”
Jerry looked over his shoulder. “Cool your jets. It’s only Mother Nature. It won’t be the first time, or the last time.”
“Couldn’t you wait until the turn?” Dr. DV suggested. Captain Jer merely shook his head from side to side. He zipped up his shorts and stumbled back to the rest of the group.
“Did you do any other neat things in the Coast Guard?” Justin asked as Captain Jer returned.
“One of the missions that we had called for us to intercept every plane that flew out of Columbia, you
know the country down in South America,” Captain Jer rattled on.
Keith was confused. “Why there, of all places?”
“Back when I was in the Coast Guard that was where all of the cocaine was coming from. We’d fly right behind the planes and copy their registration number and track them that way.”
“They wouldn’t know you were there?” Justin inquired.
“No way,” Captain Jer laughed. “Planes don’t have rear view mirrors. They had no idea someone was right behind them.”
“What would you do after that?” Keith asked.
“We’d follow them until they got to the States. Lots of times they would land right on the beach and abandon the plane. Other times they would head for a landing strip in the middle of the South somewhere. If we were on top of things, then we could radio ahead and have personnel on the ground waiting for them.”
“That must have been so much fun!” Justin cried.
Captain Jer smiled. “It was exciting to say the least.”
The foursome approached the finish of the front nine. “You’re playing pretty well. How are you feeling, Curt?” Pork Chop asked.
“I’m holding up just fine,” Curt said. It was good to be back out swinging a club.
“The effects of the chemo aren’t bothering you?” Dr. DV inquired.
“No, I feel great really. My side doesn’t even hurt.”
“Are you ready to go out and play the back nine?” Pork Chop asked. “Do you think that you can make it?”
Curt nodded. “Oh, yeah. No problem. I’m kind of getting a kick out of Captain Jer’s stories. I never knew about a lot of this stuff. Justin and Keith aren’t the only ones who are fascinated.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
“J Dub, I’ve never seen a guy drink so much beer,” Justin said as he walked up to the counter in the clubhouse.
“Who?” J Dub asked. He had an idea what the answer was going to be.
“Captain Jer,” Justin responded. “He sent me in here to get another twelve-pack for him.”