by James Ross
The blonde softly whispered into his ear. “Whatever it takes, baby. Tell them that they can come too.” She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and clasped her hands behind his neck. Her breasts practically touched his face as he sat on the bar stool.
BT motioned with his hand to his gambling buddy. In a soft voice he murmured, “Pork Chop, help me out and get me a room with your comp points.”
“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” Pork Chop asked.
BT shook his head up and down. “You and Curt can come too. I’ve already negotiated that for you.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Pork Chop declined. He seemed scared to death of women, and Curt simply looked at the bar and shook his head from side to side. He was wondering whether BT knew what he was getting himself involved in.
“I can help you out if you want me to,” Pork Chop agreed. He bent over to whisper in BT’s free ear. “Just tell me all about it tomorrow.”
BT aggressively shook his head up and down. “Just remember, what happens at the Aqua Mermaid, stays at the Aqua Mermaid.” He gave Pork Chop and Curt a wink. “If my wife ever finds out . . .” He stopped short of finishing the sentence.
“I’ll be waiting for you right here,” Curt offered. “Don’t be long.”
“I won’t be,” BT stressed, “I’m only going to help them out with their rent.” He winked again at Curt.
In a few short moments, BT was walking through the hotel lobby with a youthful blonde on his right elbow and a young brunette on his left for every camera and patron in the casino to see. As the elevator door closed the blonde softly stuck her tongue in his ear and rubbed her breasts along the right side of his body. The brunette took liberties with his belt buckle and rubbed her hand across his crotch. The blonde began to purr in his ear.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” BT begged off. “Can’t we wait a couple of minutes until we get into the room?”
The blonde spoke softly and whispered again into his ear. “I don’t think I can. You’re driving me craaaaaazy. I can’t keep my hands off of you.” She took her hand, rubbed the base of his neck and gently placed a couple of fingers inside his shirt. The elevator door opened onto the sixth floor just as she put two of his fingers in her mouth.
BT politely escorted the young women down the hall, fumbled with the electronic key, and opened the door to the room. Within seconds the atmosphere changed dramatically. The girls meant business. “Now look,” the blonde started, “here are the rules.” The brunette unbuckled BT’s belt, undid the top of his pants and pulled down his zipper. “It’s two hundred for me and two hundred for her. We’ll do anything you want up to a point and then we’ll have to negotiate some more. Once thirty minutes are up, we’re out of here.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, ladies,” BT objected. The brunette pushed him down onto the bed and slid his pants down to his shoes. “Four hundred dollars for thirty minutes is a little more than what I bargained for.”
“Fork it over right now or I’ll go up and down this hallway screaming rape at the top of my lungs,” the blonde threatened.
“Hey what happened to all the sweet nothings that you whispered in my ear?”
“That’s exactly what they were, big boy,” the blonde admitted, “nothing but sweet nothings. Give me four hundred.”
“I told you, I don’t have that kind of money on me,” BT begged. His pants were around his ankles. He was on his back on the bed wearing only his underwear. The brunette knelt between his legs, her face only inches from his crotch.
“Bullshit,” the blonde admonished him. “You’ve got ten seconds or I’m up and down this hallway yelling rape. Every security person in this building will be up here.” She reached for his ear lobe and gently massaged it. Her tone softened persuasively. “Now you wouldn’t want to get your name in the paper and have all the public embarrassment that comes with that, would you?”
“Well, no, of course not.” BT was clearly in a compromising position. He wasn’t even thinking about what could have been. His mind was racing to figure out how to get out of the situation. Out of sight around his ankles were his pants. The brunette carefully rifled through all his pockets as BT thought about what he would do next.
“I’m sure that you would hate to have your wife find out about your rape charge.” The blonde gritted her teeth. “Five more seconds,” she demanded.
“Wait, I have an idea!” BT suggested.
“Four,” the blonde said. She paused. “Three.” She paused again. “Two.” BT was speechless. “One! That’s it!” The blonde nodded to the brunette. In a flash the brunette threw BT’s wallet in the blonde’s direction. The brunette sprung to her feet with the cash that was in BT’s front pocket. The blonde bolted out the door and down the hallway. BT dove for the brunette only to ram his head into the wall as he caught one of her feet. She kicked his face to break away. Out the door the brunette went, only a few yards behind her friend. They hurried to the elevator and were out of sight. BT made like a penguin and waddled down the hall with his pants at his feet. Blood was dripping from his head.
A few minutes later BT walked up to Curt, who was still sitting at the bar listening to BowTye. BT held a damp washcloth to his head. “That was quick,” Curt commented.
“Those bitches rolled me,” BT said, his eyes still in a daze.
“Let’s go get security,” Curt urged. He could see that his golfing buddy was clearly stunned.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” BT countered. He kept hearing the blonde’s warning. “I need to go and cancel some credit cards. I think I’ll just let bygones be bygones. Lesson learned.”
Curt felt for his friend. “Okay. That’s your choice. Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Justin and Keith were in the clubhouse at daybreak the next morning. Curt was there waiting for them. It had been a while since his last chemotherapy session and he was feeling pretty good. Even though he had been out late the night before he noticed that his body didn’t need as much sleep as it had in the past. He attributed that to the red blood cell count that had been steadily rising. More oxygen had been getting through his body. Once he got the transfusion and had the operation to rid his body of the tumor that was stealing his blood, he felt his energy level rise and the anemic feeling disappear.
“What are we going to do today?” Justin asked Curt.
“You guys should know the routine by now,” Curt replied. “We’re going to start off running around the lake. You kids should be in great shape by now. You haven’t missed many workouts all summer.”
“I sure didn’t think that I’d be spending most of my summer getting up when it’s dark and running before breakfast,” Keith said.
“You know, summer is almost over and it hasn’t been that bad, has it?” Curt asked them.
“I guess we could have had worse summer jobs,” Justin remarked. “At least we’ve had the chance to pay off our debt to Mr. McCormick.”
“You two have to be getting pretty close to having Dave reimbursed for that,” Curt agreed. They both stared at the ground and shook their heads in agreement.
“We messed up,” Keith acknowledged.
“That’s part of the healing process,” Curt explained. “Before you can totally feel right you have to admit that you made a mistake. You two boys fouled things up at the beginning of the summer. It’s good to hear you own up to that fact. Let’s hop in the utility vehicle and get out to the lake.”
The trio headed to the cart barn and boarded the John Deere. “Are you going to run with us today?” Justin asked Curt.
“No, but I’m going to walk. I want to beat this cancer that got in my body and exercise is a good start,” Curt reminded the boys. “You should know by now how big I am on that. I’ve made you work out almost every day you showed up for work.” He steered the utility vehicle down the fairway and headed for the maintenance shed. “I’ve got to make one stop on the way.”
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��Are we going to feed Puddles and the rest of the cats?” Justin asked.
“We’re going to make a quick stop there, so you’ll have a minute to check their food and water,” Curt stated. He pulled up to the shed, got out, and searched for a measuring wheel while the boys fed the cats. After locating it he yelled, “Come on, let’s get going.”
“What’s that you put in the back?” Keith asked.
“That’s a measuring wheel that people used to use a long time ago to measure yardage and things like that. Now they have more recent and accurate technology like lasers and all that stuff, but this is still what we use around here for things that don’t need too much scientific accuracy,” Curt explained.
“Wow, that was a mouthful for a simple wheel,” Justin said with a grin.
Curt looked at him, smiled, and reached over to put his hand on the top of his head. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, it sure was, wasn’t it?”
“What are we going to measure?” Justin asked.
“You asked me a question a few days ago and I didn’t have an exact answer,” Curt started. “Do you remember what it was?”
“You’ve told me all summer that I’ve been full of questions,” Justin answered.
Curt smiled at his buddy. “You wanted to know how far it was around the lake, remember?” Curt reminded him.
“Oh, yeah.”
“While you two are jogging, I’m going to walk around the lake with this wheel and give you an exact measurement. I want to know the exact answer,” Curt said. “Do you remember what I guessed off the top of my head?”
“You said it was seven hundred yards,” Keith offered.
“That’s right. So let’s see how close my guess was.” Curt pulled up to the pampas grass and parked the cart next to the line they had painted on the cart path. “Okay, you guys can hit it. I’m going to walk around the lake with this wheel and see exactly how far it is.” The boys took off jogging as Curt got the measuring wheel out of the back of the utility vehicle. The wheel itself was attached to a handle that was about four feet long and came up to Curt’s waist. Once the wheel was on the ground it was simple to push it along.
Several minutes later the boys had wrapped up their workout and Curt was standing at the finish line. “How far is it?” Justin asked Curt.
“We came up with a number that is kind of scary,” Curt teased the two lads.
“How can a number be scary?” Keith pried.
“Because it’s a number that we’re going to have to keep a secret from at least one guy around here,” Curt stated, “and maybe even more than that.”
“Why?” Justin asked.
“It has to do with a problem he has,” Curt said.
Justin was curious. “What’s the number?”
“Seven eleven,” Curt blurted. “Don’t let Pork Chop hear you say those numbers.”
“Why?” Keith asked.
“Those are numbers that are on the craps table and it will bring back bad memories for him. So just don’t ever mention those numbers when he’s around. That’s a secret for all of us to share,” Curt conspired.
“You got it,” Justin agreed. The guys put their hands together and promised each other that they would keep the number to themselves. “Seven hundred and eleven yards. How far is that?”
“It’s a little over three-eighths of a mile. If you run six laps around this lake then you will have run about two and a quarter miles, maybe even two and a half miles,” Curt answered. “That is a nice goal for you kids.”
“Now what are we going to do?” Keith asked.
“You guys can go in and take a shower if you want and have breakfast. But then we’re going to have a nice project today,” Curt started. “You remember what happened yesterday.” The boys nodded their heads. “I’ve got a wrecker coming out to fish the golf cart out of the water. That should be one heckuva messy job.”
The threesome got back into the utility vehicle and headed for the clubhouse. While the boys took a shower Curt and J Dub confirmed the appointment with the towing company. The expertise of the towing company owners concerned wrecked automobiles, illegally parked vehicles, or broken-down cars or trucks that needed repair work. Retrieving golf carts out of lakes was not their specialty, but they thought that they had the equipment to get the job done.
After the boys cleaned up and ate a small breakfast, they went with Curt to meet the tow truck operator in the golf course parking lot. Curt had to lead the truck on a circuitous path over the golf course in order to avoid crossing a creek. They were careful not to cross any more cart paths than necessary. The weight of the tow truck could quite possibly tear up the asphalt.
Curt pulled up near the spot where Captain Jer drove the cart into the lake. The tow truck operator followed suit and then he and his assistant got out of the cab to survey the situation. After hemming and hawing for a few moments and kicking a couple of tires, the operator asked, “How deep is the water?”
“It should be about twelve to fifteen feet,” Curt answered. “Have you had any requests like this before?”
“Quite a while back some lady ran off the shoulder, down an embankment, and into a retention area,” the operator said. “We had to get a car that time. But I can’t say that I’ve never had to ever get a golf cart.” He jumped back into the cab of the truck and maneuvered it so that the back bumper of the truck was backed up to the water.
“I’ll keep my eye out for the golfers,” Curt yelled as the operator exited the truck. “We’ll wave them through and have them move to the other side of the fairway when need be.”
The operator put his hands in his hip pockets and guffawed some more. “It’s twelve feet, huh?”
“Maybe a little more,” Curt corrected.
The operator looked at Justin and Keith. “Can you boys swim?” Justin and Keith glanced back and forth at each other. Neither was too anxious to assist with the job. They simply shrugged their shoulders.
“I wouldn’t know where to hook the line up,” Justin begged off.
“Yeah, I’d hate to hook it up to the wrong part of the cart and tear the thing apart,” Keith followed.
The operator laughed. “That’s what my helper is here for.” He chuckled some more. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to recruit you guys to do our dirty work.” The young man that accompanied the operator had been on the other side of the tow truck stripping down to a swim suit. “He’ll have to take the rope from the winch and dive in. Hopefully he’ll be able to feel around and find the back bumper.”
The young man continued to the side of the water and inched his way in. He had kept on an old pair of tennis shoes to protect his feet from rocks or other sharp things that might be in the mud. He waded into the water until it got up to his chest and then the bank dropped off at a steeper angle. “I’ll try to locate it and see what we’re dealing with,” he said as he went head first into the lake. Thirty to forty seconds later he surfaced.
“ . . . Any luck?” the tow truck operator asked.
“Yeah, I found it,” the young man yelled.
“Is it still upright?” the operator questioned.
The young man nodded. “We got lucky there. It even feels like most of the clubs are in the bag.”
Justin and Keith snickered about that. “The way Captain Jer plays golf it would have been better if they all fell out.”
“Throw me the rope and I’ll try to hook it to the back bumper. Maybe we can get it to come out straight,” the young man hollered. The tow truck operator had unwound a lengthy piece of the rope from the winch. He took the line and threw the end of it where the hook was attached into the water for the young assistant to retrieve. “Let me go down again and see if I can find something to attach it to.”
After three dives, he thought that the rope was attached securely and signaled the operator to begin the procedure. Slowly the rope connected to the winch became taut. “Why don’t you dive down there again and see if it is coming out okay?” the operato
r shouted.
The young man once again took a dive. When he resurfaced he gave thumbs up to the operator. “It’s only about two feet under my feet right now. Keep pulling it out.” The synthetic line inched out of the water as the winch rotated around. “It’s coming! I can feel the roof with my feet.”
Several minutes later the roof of the cart could be seen coming out of the water. A few moments after that Captain Jer’s clubs were visible. The assistant stood waist deep in the water and steadied the cart as it was pulled to land. Shortly thereafter a water-logged cart rested on the fairway.
“What a mess that is,” Curt said as he shook his head in bewilderment. He had no idea how to clean it up.
“Will you be able to fix it?” Justin wondered.
“I doubt it,” Curt countered. “We’ll have to call the golf cart people and see what kind of trade they’ll give us or what sort of damaged property they take. Captain Jer’s insurance people may have to see it before they can reimburse us.”
Curt unhooked Captain Jer’s bag from the cart and threw the set of clubs into the rear of the utility vehicle. He wanted Jerry to see the damage and possibly file a claim with his insurance company for a new set. The towing people loaded the golf cart onto the truck and hauled it away. Curt was confident that it couldn’t be fixed up and returned to the fleet at Prairie Winds. The trio then hopped into the utility vehicle and made the trek back to the clubhouse.
Awaiting their arrival were Fred, Elia, Captain Jer, and BT. They were at the back table conversing and playing a game of gin. Two members of the group were sporting battle signs from the day before and officially declared walking wounded. Captain Jer had a nasty looking bruise on the left side of his forehead thanks to the misstep into the golf cart. BT had a bandage on the right side of his face courtesy of a kick in the head by the brunette.