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After exchanging drivers for putters on the 17th
green, Dustin and Suzie mosey up to fore-caddie. "You
ever use the pissing tree on this hole?" Dustin asks
as they pass The Oak designated for relief.
"Was really close once." she replies.
"What happened?"
"Decided it'd be best to take the pain. You?"
Dustin ahems, then rests down the two bags he's
carrying and walks to The Oak as Suzie moves ahead.
Feeling refreshed Dustin joins her about one
hundred and twenty yards away from the players teeing
off. The 18th fairway is surrounded by a forest right
and O.B. left. Fore-caddying gives the caddies a
better vantage point for finding drives gone astray.
"One time, I was looping with Orlando. He was
using the facilities, when Mr. Todd's drive sliced
really badly." Dustin begins, resuming the
conversation.
"Mr. Todd always slices with his driver."
"Yeah I know, I thought about telling him he'd
be better off leaving the big dog in the clubhouse.
Anyway, he lost his ball immediately, so he didn't
say anything, but Mr. Dour saw -"
"Dour is sharp."
"That he is, so Dour yelled 'FORE!' I'd
forgotten about Orlando, but as the ball got closer I
realized why Dour screamed. I shouted 'O! MOVE!' he
made eye contact with me as I was pointing behind
him. He figured out what was going on and dove barely
avoiding the ball." The wind shifts South, against
the players.
"That's good to hear O was alright."
"Yeah ... save the wet spot on his shorts."
"Ooh. :("
"Totally sucked. Todd did him right, though.
Gave him over two-hundo for the loop, and bought him
a new pair of shorts."
"No he didn't."
"You're right. He didn't, because O refused the
offer."
"You're so full of it."
"You're no fun." Dustin sighs, giving up.
"Not for you, no. You got a pencil?"
Dustin pauses, sniggering inside, as did Suzie
when reviewing her statement, but keeping a straight
face searching his memory and pockets for the
instrument, finding it above his left ear. He hands
it to her and she fills out her caddie card.
As she writes, monsters dancing hedonistic ally
amidst a pink and purple jungle flash in and out of
her head. Where do those come from? Are they bubbles
floating waiting for a host?
"Grandma, about that pencil, you didn't ask if
you could have one."
"What? ... Oh, yeah." Suzie mumbles, returning
to their shared plane of reality. "Here you go."
I wonder where she was just then?
A phwap sound comes from a hundred yards back.
"Shit." Dustin curses, realizing he's once again
neglected his duties as a caddie, failing to pay
attention when his player teed off. Where's the ball?
Part of the reason was he relaxed, knowing Suzie
would take care of him. "Got it, headed along the
left side of the fairway ... ah, rough. Not the start
he wanted."
"Thanks."
"No prob."
"You ever read a story about caddies?"
"Story, as in fiction?"
"Yeah."
"There's this Southern writer whose name is
eluding me now." Mr. Douglas's ball flies above them
landing softly down the right side of the fairway ten
yards beyond Doug's.
"Anyway, he wrote this book with a section where he
streams a special" she does air quotes "man's thoughts. Caddies play a very minor role there."
"That it?" He asks, hoping for more.
"As far as I've read."
"That's a shame. We deserve a better voice in
the English canon."
"Why don't you write the book?"
"Whoa." Dustin emphasizes holding out his hands.
"I don't know about a book. We're just bit players
who magnify the lead actors in one light or another.
I think a short story would suffice."
"You've always been lazy." Suzie chides through
a smile. "On that note, was Mr. Jones pissed at you
last hole?" Mrs. Douglas's ball crashes into the
woods on the right.
"What'd you mean?"
"When you were daydreaming on the left side of
the fairway as he was ready to hit behind you on the
right."
"Oh, that. Nah, he didn't mention anything."
"You're lucky."
"It's more he knows how I operate - we have a
professional relationship spanning my whole career,
starting with my first time out."
"Sucks for Jones."
"Indeed. Our first round he asked me something
like 'Son, how many loops you had this summer?' I
said 'Loops?' 'You know, rounds you caddied on the
course?' I was like, 'Don't you mean gone around the
course?" "Typical Doug form, though, I believe he
smiled and said something like 'Happy to see you
working, young man.'" Alice's ball skips its way to
the beginning of the fairway.
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