“This is a gentleman’s game, guys,” Royce said snidely. “A gentleman would let us play through.”
Russ remained frozen in his backswing. He looked over at Dwayne, who nodded with a smile.
Russ brought his club back down and walked purposefully toward Royce’s pretentious waiting foursome. Three of the upper crusters were seated in golf carts. Only Royce was out of his cart, leaning against a large stone water fountain, offering a fake yawn as Russ approached.
Russ took a big pull from his joint and blew it right into Royce’s thin, yacht-tanned face. “Do you have any idea who the fuck that is over there?” Russ asked, pointing to his friends.
“I don’t know,” Royce responded sarcastically. “Two golfers and a caddy?”
Royce’s friends chuckled.
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Tommy walked over to stand beside Russ, showing his support. Tommy knew he might be able to add a “crazy black guy” feel to the dispute, even though he’d never actually thrown a punch. He even tried to walk with a touch of gangster swagger, but he ended up just looking injured.
“I’ll tell you who that is,” Russ said as he pulled down his glasses to display his wild, bloodshot eyes. “That’s the motherfucking Jedi Alliance. And if you don’t back the fuck up and happily play at whatever pace we deem proper, we will unleash The Force on your uppity asses until the angels of heaven scream and blood pours from your ears.”
A look of horror swept over Royce and his friends’ faces.
“And if you ever refer to me as a caddy again,” Tommy added, “I’ll jam every one of your custom-fitted golf clubs all the way up your asshole and stomp on your scrotum with my golf cleats until you scream that Billy Dee Williams is your daddy. Do I make myself clear?”
Royce was silent. His eyes had welled up with tears. He was considering peeing in his pants.
“I asked you a question, boy!” Tommy yelled.
“Yeah, I mean yes sir, I mean—it’s just that, I don’t know who Billy Dee Williams is.”
“Billy Dee?” Tommy shot back with disgust. “Lando motherfucking Calrissian? Are you fucking with me right now? Jesus! That’s the most racist thing I’ve ever heard! Get the fuck off this golf course right now before I disembowel you with a ball repair tool, you arrogant little bastard!”
Royce began to slowly back away toward his cart. Tommy lunged at him, waving his driver while making lightsaber noises. Royce dove behind the wheel of the cart and sped away, his friends close behind him.
Russ lit another joint as he watched the foursome disappear into the parking lot. He turned to Tommy, and they exchanged a high five.
“There’s a large part of me that wants to inform you guys that you’ve all gone completely insane,” Steve said to the group. “But this Star Wars philosophy on life appears to be pretty effective. I mean, I was always more of a Star Trek guy, but shit. Not knowing who Lando Calrissian is? That’s a whole new level of racism. That’s tantamount to the Holocaust.”
Dwayne stood back proudly, analyzing his ramshackle group of forced friends. They now appeared ready to embrace this new lifestyle. He hadn’t stopped to think, much less care, what his friends’ reactions might be to his new approach to the world. But he liked the idea of this not being a solo mission. He liked the idea of strength in numbers.
It was obvious that they were buying in, too. He could see that they’d been awakened, as he had, through the simple act of not taking shit.
“Gentlemen,” he addressed his foursome, “I can’t say that I have this endeavor we’re embarking upon clearly mapped out. I take great joy, though, in seeing that you may come to know what I now know: We are in control. We deserve respect. We don’t have to sit idly by if respect is not given. There is no real hierarchy. The caste system has no true control. We choose what rules do and do not apply. We ask for nothing that is not deserved. We are reintroducing ethics and natural law to a society that has tossed them aside, in favor of lives led by greed and pseudo spirituality.”
Dwayne extended his arms out wide, his head tilted upward and eyes closed, like a rock star soaking in the glory from the stage.
“We’re the new evolution of man,” he continued. “We’re the suburban Jedi.”
Large grins overtook the faces of Dwayne’s friends. He could see that their worldview had received a massive overhaul. The transformation had taken place. Even with Steve. They now looked at the world differently. They looked at it as Dwayne did.
“Get ready for where this will take you, guys,” he said. “We’re going to burn this motherfucker down, and build it back the right way.”
27.
The newly formed Jedi Alliance continued on through eighteen holes of golf in the blistering Texas sun. Following four of the most spectacular tee shots ever made off the first tee box, the men were certain that this was to be a round of golf that would end with a record score. They had grand visions of a plaque being hung in the pro shop for all club members to envy.
Unfortunately, a superior attitude on life had no effect on the cruelest of sports. The tee shots on hole #1 ended up being the only respectable shots made that day. However, that evil whore named golf, no matter how hard she tried, had been unsuccessful in stripping the crew of their newfound mental superiority.
The foursome stood in the parking lot after the game, drinking beer and passing joints. Dwayne hopped into his truck to slap on a pair of flip-flops. When he tossed his warm dank cleats over to the passenger seat floorboard, he noticed something that had not been there before. An envelope with photos peeking out. He rifled through them. It was more photos of Estelle. Just like last time, except far more explicit.
Estelle was in a seated position between two men who were standing. The men were only visible from the waist down. She was nude, while the men had on unfastened pants. Estelle had a firm grip on each less-than-soft penis. She’d probably been playing them like a circus seal on the horns.
“Jesus, Estelle,” Dwayne said under his breath. He knew she’d slept around, but he’d always figured it was one at a time. He hadn’t expected this. The rage began to grow.
Somehow he managed to remind himself that he was a Jedi now, and he put the beast back in the cage. In an extraordinary display of forgiveness, Dwayne decided to let it go. He loved his wife. She loved him. They were working it out. Those photos represented the former shell of her. She was different now. He knew it.
Dwayne took a long pull from a joint and let all of the anger go. This was how he rolled now. He returned to his crew, feeling fine.
In Dwayne’s absence, five of the club’s bag boys had joined Tommy, Russ, and Steve. The bag boys delivered and retrieved carts and loaded and unloaded golf bags. Each bag boy had been sent one at a time by the manager of the club to ask the men to extinguish their marijuana cigarettes because of complaints. But in the end, all five boys were swayed by The Force, joining the Jedi Alliance and smoking weed with the baseball dads.
Russ shared the group’s ideas about the power of positive thinking, convincing the youthful Jedi apprentices that they could make it over the massive ravine that cut across the fourteenth fairway in a golf cart if they simply believed they could.
As Russ began his drive home, he glanced off in the distance at the fourteenth fairway. A lone cart barreled full-speed right up the middle. He noticed three of the bag boys sitting on the bench seat of the cart, with the other two hanging on to the back.
“YOU GOTTA BELIEVE!” Russ yelled, his body nearly halfway out the window of his Ferrari as he pumped his fist in the air with excitement.
The boys all looked back toward Russ and pumped their fists, yelling and whooping as the cart launched up the elevated edge of the ravine to make the seemingly impossible jump of a lifetime, equipped heavily with the power of positive thinking and an equally large lack of forethought. They quickly disappeared over the forty-foot drop-off.
Russ slowed and slid back in the cabin of his car. He watched as a tiny puff o
f smoke appeared above the ravine’s edge. He pushed his sunglasses firmly onto the bridge of his nose, rolled up his window, and continued home.
His phone beeped from a text on the text chain. He glanced in his rearview mirror and noticed that Dwayne and the other guys were behind him, taking the same way home.
DWAYNE:
For future reference, this whole using the force thing is more of a lifestyle choice. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t nullify the laws of physics.
RUSS:
Duly noted.
STEVE:
For the record, I was as curious to see if they could pull it off as anyone.
TOMMY:
I hear ya, man. I was pulling for them.
DWAYNE:
Me too. Oh well. Pretty cool way to go out, anyhow.
RUSS:
Fuck yeah.
TOMMY:
I’m digging this thing we’re doing by the way, D. I suddenly feel like going home and making sweet love to my wife.
STEVE:
Me too. I’m gonna rock that ass when I get home.
RUSS:
That’s disgusting, Steve. Don’t tell us that shit.
STEVE:
Screw you, Russ!
RUSS:
Dude, your wife’s nose is nothing short of massive, she has a mustache, and her ankles are bigger than my thighs. Have you really not noticed that? Tommy, can you fix that mangled train wreck?
TOMMY:
I can dress it up a little for you, Steve. I can cut that shark fin off her face and laser that afro off her lip. Not sure about the ankles. Maybe camouflage socks or something. It still won’t look good.
STEVE:
What the HELL, guys? Jesus! Tommy, your wife is half plastic, and Russ, your wife has a first grade education!
RUSS:
Yeah, but they’re both hot, Steve. Huge difference. Your wife looks like John Belushi. But whatever, man. If that’s what does it for you, that’s cool. Just don’t tell us about it. Keep that shit to yourself.
STEVE:
Screw you guys. I love my wife.
RUSS:
That’s all that matters, bro. I’d probably hit her with a bat and light her on fire if I ever ran into her on a dark night, but that’s just me. I’m glad you’re happy.
DWAYNE:
Okay, men. I’m pulling up to my house. I’m gonna have my way with Estelle and then get ready for baseball practice. We’ve got a game tomorrow, so we need to make it count today. See you there.
TOMMY:
Cool. Gonna go get some.
RUSS:
I’m gonna rock some booty too. See you there.
STEVE:
And I don’t care what you guys think. I’m gonna throw a rubber sheet on the bed, pour a gallon of oil on Judith and myself, and get all kinds of dirty.
RUSS:
BLORF!
TOMMY:
LOL.
DWAYNE:
Jesus.
RUSS:
Do us a favor and use kerosene instead of oil.
STEVE:
Suck it. See you at practice.
DWAYNE:
Later.
28.
All of the lights were dimmed at the Devero house. Candles were lit, and the sweet smell of lavender filled the air. Dwayne walked through the front door and immediately became aroused. He knew something, aside from his trouser snake, was up.
He repressed the memory of the photos. He vowed not to bring them up to Estelle. Forward, not backward.
On the entryway floor was a piece of paper. Estelle had scribbled, “Take all of your clothes off and meet me in the bathtub.”
Dwayne stripped; threw a bottle of white wine, some fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and two glasses on a silver serving tray; and sprinted to the master bathroom. He was ready to head to pound town.
Estelle couldn’t have looked more attractive. He was taken aback for a moment at her beauty as he turned the corner. He couldn’t speak. He approached her slowly, ready to ravage her.
She held an unlit joint up to her voluptuous lips as she lay sprawled out beneath the clear water. She flicked the lighter. Her eyes looked stunning in the glow of the flame. Estelle took a long pull from the joint as Dwayne set the tray on the edge of the tub. She reached up with her free hand and grabbed his manhood, slowly massaging it as she stared deep into his eyes.
“What are you waiting on, Big Boy?” she whispered. “Why don’t you climb in here and make me feel like a woman?”
Dwayne slid into the tub behind Estelle. He let his hand slide from beneath her breast to below her bellybutton, continuing downward. She placed her hand on top of his, guiding him, and began to moan as he kissed her neck and ear. She reached her other hand behind her, up his thigh, until she found what she was looking for.
After a couple of minutes, Dwayne couldn’t take it any more. He had to have her. He lifted her up and spun her around, leaving them both standing in the tub facing one another. He leaned down and began to kiss her passionately, letting his hands glide over her lower back until they found her ass. He grabbed firmly and lifted her up, carrying her to the bathroom counter, where he placed her gently. Only then did he make his way down between her legs.
Estelle gripped Dwayne’s hair until she almost pulled it out. She screamed as she climaxed, and he made his way back up. She forced herself forward off the counter, her body heaving in total ecstasy, and pushed him backward into the bedroom and onto the bed. She climbed on top of him and rode him, her hips grinding skillfully back and forth, harder and harder, until his whole body convulsed, and they collapsed together into complete and total full-body orgasms.
They lay atop the bed afterward, twitching and smiling from the euphoria that comes from those rare, once-in-a-decade, mind-bending orgasms. The combination of bath water and sweat had made their bodies slick, and Estelle slowly slid her mouth up to Dwayne’s ear, offering a tiny nibble, followed by a giggle.
“Oh my God,” she said quietly, all of her energy drained. “You fucking rock my world.”
As he tried to catch his breath, Dwayne rolled Estelle onto her back and admired her body. She was perfect. He drew a line of kisses from her stomach to her lips.
Within seconds, they were full-on making out like a couple of college kids. It didn’t take long before Dwayne was fully aroused again. Her rolled her back over to where she was on top of him and sat up. He then stood with her in his arms and walked across the room and back into the bathroom. He pushed her up against the wall by the bathtub. Her feet didn’t touch the ground at all for the next ten minutes as they went another round.
Estelle ran her fingernails down his back, and she gripped his ass and screamed until they were finished.
He walked them back over to the tub, stepped in, and lay down with Estelle on top. His legs fidgeted a few times from the muscle strain.
“I feel like I’m living in an awesome porno, you know? Like … a classy one,” Dwayne said.
“I know, babe,” Estelle replied. “I swear, I’ve never had orgasms like that. Holy shit, that was good.”
“No shit,” Dwayne sighed. “Maybe porn is the wrong word. Porn isn’t really as good as this. It’s like mainstream porn, like a Mickey Rourke movie that made it into theaters but got picketed by church groups or something, you know? Like … all of the other aspects of the movie are good too. It’s not just the sex that’s good. So it’s not really porn. But at the same time, the sex is outstanding. Maybe like 9½ Weeks, but also with a little bit of The Notebook, but so fucking badass that it’s like The Matrix too.”
He paused for a moment as he lit a joint again. Then it came to him.
“That’s fucking it!” he exclaimed. “That’s what this is like! It’s like Neo banging it out with the chick from The Notebook!”
“And they’re wearing Star Wars outfits,” Estelle added.
“You’re goddamn right, babe,” Dwayne said with a smile. “You’re goddamn right.”
29.
After his brief erotic escapade, Dwayne grabbed Alex from his friend’s house and headed to practice at Jenny Field.
The other three newly appointed assistant coaches pulled up as Dwayne was unloading the baseball gear. They looked sexed-out and ragged. Russ was extra jumpy, Tommy was hunched over and limping, and Steve had what appeared to be a black eye with a chunk of hair missing from the front of his head, partially covered by a blood-soaked bandage.
“What happened to your face?” Dwayne asked Steve.
“No shit!” Tommy laughed.
“What are you laughing at, Tommy?” Steve snapped back. “Why the hell are you all bent over and limping, bro?”
“I’ve got my dick stuck to my leg with surgical tape,” Tommy replied, wincing, “I took a boner pill. It hasn’t worn off yet. I didn’t want to coach baseball with a hard-on. Parents tend to frown on it. What’s your excuse?”
“Well,” Steve said, glancing toward the ground, knowing he was about to take a heaping helping of shit. “I was going to get all funky with Judith, but her bush has gotten out of control lately, like massive, so I felt like I had to bring it up before I went to town.”
“So she fucking punched you and ripped your hair out?” Russ yelled. “Jesus!”
“No, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” Steve continued. “I don’t know why I feel the need to justify myself to a guy who had a man’s pinky in his ass twelve hours ago, but still … Judith was actually pretty cool with the bush conversation. I told her I wanted to shave it for her, you know? Get a little kinky.”
Russ turned around, walked back toward the fence, and projectile-vomited for a few seconds. The other guys’ eyes went wide. He walked back to the group, wiping his mouth on his t-shirt.
“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Russ said, physically ill at the idea. “I’m sorry. Keep going.”
Base Ball Dads Page 11