“Those are nice sunglasses,” Wade said.
I pulled them off.
Wade smiled and the pro shop came into focus.
“Ryan wants competition. Why don’t you give it to him?”
I walked outside. He was taking long strokes with his belly putter and drinking beer.
“I’ve been working out; can’t you tell?”
I looked at him. He looked the same.
“Quarter a hole?”
“Pretty rich. You got the money?”
I showed him the bills.
“Those are nice sunglasses. Can I try them out?
“Sure,” I said.
“That’s the wrong hole.”
“I don’t understand it, I was making everything earlier.”
We finished 9 and he paid up.
“Can I have my sunglasses back?”
“I’ll give you 50 for ‘em.”
“Deal,” I said and I took his money.
Ryan lost his luck that evening
and his world grew darker than midnight.