“But tell me, are you serious about being able to read minds?” Gregson asked.

“Sure—and that’s not all I can do—but it’s a curse. The gods gift us with their abilities, and then sit-back and laugh,” Vick said.

Before Gregson could ask Vick about the gods, a meteor fell to earth, hitting him in the back.

“Fore!” A bellow came from a beast on the 3rd tee-box.

Gregson pulled-out his 2-iron. “I’m going to hit this pill up that guy’s ass and make him take it rectally.”

Before he could swing, another ball fell from the sky.

“What are you boys doing—waiting for the grass to grow?” Yelled the man. “Let me guess—you’re accountants.”

He was wearing a beret, with a dress uniform.

“Army?” Gregson asked—knowing full-well he was a Marine.

“What?” Are you yanking me?”

“Did anyone teach you the rules of golf—or course etiquette?”

“Did anyone teach you about the pace of play?”

“Okay—let’s settle this as men,” Gregson said. “What’s your name?”

“Cornel Weathers.”

“Well Cornel—we’re going to see if the ministry of propaganda turned you into a girl.”

“How dare you?”

Gregson balled up his fists, and the Cornel took an athletic pose.

“Might I suggest you settle this score as gentlemen—we’re on the golf course, after all,” Vick said.

“Sure,” Gregson replied, relaxing his shoulders a bit. “If you have pistols, we can duel to the death. My honor has been offended.”

“I’ll squash you like a bug—we don’t let fat boys into the Marines.”

“Perhaps—a wager on the next hole?” Vick suggested.

“What did you have in mind?”

“What are you driving?”

“A Hummer.”

“The loser walks home.”

“Closest to the pin wins a new car?”

“You’re on!” Gregson said.

Beads of sweat were dripping off Cornel Weather’s nose. “Shake on it?” He asked.

Gregson shook. Then he teed-up his ball. His muscles were tightening like a vice. The moment was a core of his philosophy—you define it, or it defines you. His swing was pure. His pill left the ground, entering the sky. It landed on the green, fourteen feet away from the flagstick.

“Not bad,” Cornel Weathers said. “But watch this.”

SMACK. It sounded awful, but his ball tracked the flagstick like a missile, landing within five feet of the hole.

“See what I did there? I taught you a lesson.”

“Wait a minute,” Gregson said. “What’s happening to your ball?”

“It’s movin'”

“Darn right it is—that pill is going underwater.” And sure enough, it trickled off the island. SPLASH.

“Well—I never. It was like the wind blew it, or something?”

“Keys?” Gregson asked.

“I honor my bets—it’s the first lesson they teach you in the Marines.”

“Gambling?”

“No, you fool—Honor.

“We’ll see you back at the pro shop.”

The Cornel walked away—defeated.

“Now tell me—did you interfere?” Gregson asked.

“Sure,” Vick said.

“I can’t accept his keys. He won in a fair bet. What else have you done?”

“Well—I didn’t mean to, but my neighbor got electrocuted in his bathtub when his radio fell in—he was always playing it so loud, I could never get any sleep.”

2 thoughts on “Chapter 5 Gregson Defines the Moment

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