by James Ross
Chapter Forty-Nine
That weekend Curt played golf with Paul, Elia, and Paco. He was running a little late for their tee time and the group was waiting for him on the tee box. “Sorry I’m late guys. What’s the game today?” Curt inquired.
“Same game. We’re playing pig. You’re third,” replied Paco.
“Let’s have a good one,” Curt said after the guys drove their tee shots down the first fairway. As they walked off of the first green, Curt approached Paul and said, “Paul, the son of a gun is finally going to do it.”
“Do what?” Paul replied.
“J Dub said that Lew was finally going to sell him the place,” Curt responded.
“I heard the boys talking about that in the pro shop the other day,” Paul said.
“What do you think about that?” Curt asked.
Paul was held in the highest esteem by all of the members of the group. He had retired from the military and was the most respected and immaculately manicured guy that hung around the clubhouse. J Dub had taken a liking to him years previously and let him close up the pro shop several days a week. His pay was free golf. The good old barter system even worked on the golf course. Paul was like a father-figure to J Dub. He was rational, polite, and insightful.
“Don’t bet on it,” Paul responded. “That lousy so-and-so has something up his sleeve. It’ll only happen if he can make big bucks. He’ll deal from a position of strength. He screws everybody.”
“Wow. Do you think that he’ll take advantage of J Dub after all of these years?” Curt probed for a response.
“Don’t kid yourself,” replied Paul. “J Dub isn’t strong enough to win a battle against Lew. He’ll need someone that’s a heckuva lot bigger than Lew to even have a chance of closing.”
“You think so, huh? Thanks for the words of wisdom. I’ll pass them on,” Curt said.
Later that weekend Curt wrapped up his analysis of the financial statements. He returned to J Dub’s kitchen with the results.
“What did you find out?” J Dub asked as they grabbed a seat.
Curt simply shrugged his shoulders as Marcia served him lemonade. “Was there anything of interest?” Marcia inquired.
“I have a question or two,” Curt replied.
“ . . . What about?” J Dub said in an inquisitive manner.
“First off, the business isn’t making any money,” Curt offered.
“Julie warned me about that,” J Dub countered. “Is there anything else?”
“Do you lease any golf carts?” Curt asked.
J Dub shook his head. “We own the fleet.”
Curt was unfazed. “That’s what I suspected.”
“What else did you notice?” J Dub wanted to find out if his brother had noticed what Julie had warned him about.
“What’s the machinery lease expense all about?” Curt inquired.
“That’s what Julie wanted to talk to me about,” J Dub stated.
Curt shook his head. He looked his brother in the eye. At that time J Dub knew that Curt knew what Julie had been talking to him about. “There are three main expenses. They indicate where the money has been going,” Curt explained. “Two of them are easy to figure out. The payroll expense covers everyone’s salary. That’s pretty self-explanatory. The interest expense is just that. It goes to the bank as an interest payment on the loan. The biggest expense is a machinery lease. What the heck is that all about?”
J Dub glanced at Marcia and back at Curt. He was afraid to hear what his brother was about ready to say. “You tell me.”
“See who those checks were made out to,” Curt adamantly persisted.
A disappointed look came over J Dub’s face. “I think we all know.”
“What does that indicate?” Marcia asked.
“The lousy son-of-a-gun has been skimming all of the profits all of these years!” Curt shouted.
“We hardly pay any taxes,” J Dub conceded.
“That’s no wonder. The books don’t show that you make any money. He’s been taking all of it,” Curt declared. His anger was accelerating.
J Dub had no idea where to turn. “What should we do now?”
“Ask him some questions without tipping your hand,” Curt suggested. “He’ll eventually figure out that you know.”
“Then what should I do?”
“I don’t know off the top of my head. But you’ll need some help. He’s got you between a rock and a hard spot,” Curt explained. “He can dictate the terms.”
“Can I pay that much for the place?” J Dub wondered.
“You can, but it won’t be a golf course for long,” Curt answered. “If you have a rainy season or the competition steals your players or the weather burns up your greens, you’ll be history.”
“At least I’ll be able to sell the land,” J Dub countered.
“That’s your exit plan, but that isn’t going to keep you in the golf business. Plus it isn’t going to correct what he’s been doing,” Curt offered.
“Then what should we do?” J Dub was anxious to come up with a game plan.
“Let’s just stall for right now and see what happens. We need to gather some more information,” Curt proposed. “We need to do our homework and talk to a few more people.”
Chapter Fifty
The Fall of 1995 . . .
J Dub watched Lew drive off toward the fourteenth hole with his bulldozer in fifth gear. He turned to Julie. “Any idea what he’s up to? He said something about this tree and that tree.”
“No clue,” Julie responded as she carried a tray full of beers to the guys.
J Dub locked his register, ducked into the office for a moment, and saw the checkbook on Julie’s desk. He opened the checkbook, noticed the balance, and saw that it was quite healthy.
Julie was making her way back to her register and put up the tray. “Did you see what’s in the checkbook?”
“Yeah, I’m suddenly getting the distinct feeling that an ‘expense’ is going to be incurred today.” J Dub sarcastically replied.
“Jeez my knees, he is as predictable as a . . .” Julie bit her lip and muttered to herself.
Meanwhile, J Dub sauntered over to the picture window and grabbed a pair of binoculars. He watched his partner as he went back and forth methodically and knocked a few trees down. Some of the smaller underbrush was crushed by the equipment. On occasion Lew would pick up a bucket of dirt and swirl the bulldozer around to dump the dirt into a pile. The downed trees were pushed into a separate heap. J Dub disgustedly put the binoculars away and returned to the counter.
After a few minutes of this, Lew picked up a large bucket of dirt. He jumped off the dozer and ran to the bucket to take a look. Inside was a human skeleton. He dug around in the dirt with his hands and quickly located the skull. One of the front teeth had a gold-capped crown. A wicked grin appeared on his face.
Lew promptly looked around and over his shoulder to see if anyone had witnessed what he was doing. Satisfied that he was alone, he hurriedly popped the crown off of the tooth and placed it in the pocket of his jeans. Seconds later he dumped the skeletal remains onto the pile of downed trees.
In a flash he grabbed a small container of gasoline and doused the trees and remains with the flammable liquid. In a matter of seconds the pile erupted into flames. Smoke billowed skyward. The intense heat forced Lew back onto the dozer.
Meanwhile, back in the clubhouse, the boys played backgammon and gin at their table in the back. Bogey napped nearby. J Dub paced behind the counter resigning himself that his partner was an idiot while Julie efficiently worked the rest of the room. The mail sat unopened on the counter top. J Dub started to go through it.
One specific piece of mail caught his eye. The return address indicated that it was from Children’s Hospital. J Dub quickly opened the letter and read the contents. “Children’s Hospital is going to name a conference room after Lew for his donation,” J Dub declared. “Why would they be doing that?”
“The
y’re putting a new wing on the hospital,” Rollie answered from the back of the room.
“Yeah, but that was over ten years ago when we had the tournament over here,” J Dub added.
“Did Mel sign that?” Rollie asked.
“His name is on it,” J Dub said after he examined the letter.
“Lew’s name will probably be on a plaque with a lot of others. That’s a shock that they would do something like that. Mel was embarrassed that Lew ran him out of here that day,” Rollie ranted.
“I think that we all were disappointed,” J Dub conceded.
Rollie wasn’t done with his comments. “You know, I introduced Mel to Lew and Lew sat right here in the pro shop and said that he would donate the course for one day each year to help fund the cause for the children.”
“And then the no-good son-of-a-bitch denied that he said it,” Easy Earl added. He was becoming more and more ornery with each passing day.
“I wonder what they want from you now,” Fred bellowed.
“Who knows? If the event would have stayed here, maybe they would have named the hospital after him,” said J Dub.
“Wouldn’t that be ironic,” said Easy Earl. “He doesn’t even have any kids.”
“It goes to show how much of a liar he can be,” Julie said as she peered out the picture window. “What in the world is he doing now?” she asked.
An abundant amount of smoke rose high into the sky above the nearby tree line. J Dub ran to the window to see the smoke. “That’s over on number fourteen. I guess he was planning on clearing some trees today,” J Dub shouted. The smell of smoke started to invade the pro shop.
“I bet he didn’t bother to get a burn permit,” Julie said. “The fire department will be over here in no time chewing our butt.”
“He was just going to knock a few trees over. I didn’t think that he would burn the whole woods down,” J Dub stated. “I saw how much was in the checkbook, Julie.” He grinned at her. Now that the cat was out of the bag they could joke with each other about what was going on.
“It’s the end of the season. There’s enough in the bank for all of us to have a new house,” she answered. “He noticed it a few days ago.”
“Let me run out there and see what’s going on,” J Dub yelled over his shoulder as he bolted out the door. Bogey took off behind him in quick pursuit. J Dub jumped onto the Truckster. Bogey sat next to him. They sped rapidly across the fairways. Quite a commotion was taking place on the course. Virtually all of the players had stopped playing golf and had rushed over to see the fire.
As J Dub pulled up, Lew still sat on the dozer amidst the burning trees. He was encircled in flames. “Quick! Call the fire department,” Lew shouted at J Dub.
J Dub got on the two-way radio and called for help. “Get down and get out of there,” J Dub yelled as the smoke intensified.
“A gust of wind came up,” Lew hollered.
“Why didn’t you wait for a calm day?” J Dub screamed.
“I wanted to show the boys how much better I made this hole,” Lew barked.
“These woods don’t even come into play,” J Dub cried. “You’re going to burn the whole course down!”
By this time Lew had worked the dozer around so that he had become trapped. “Turn on the sprinklers!” he yelled. “Get some water over here!”
J Dub hit the remote control device that controlled the satellite system for the sprinklers. Water started to spray onto the fairways. “They won’t reach that far!” J Dub shouted.
The circumstances had become quite serious. Water sprayed yards away from the flames. Lew couldn’t move the dozer. Sirens blared in the background. Golfers helplessly chuckled at the comedy of the situation. No one was in a position to help Lew. Everyone had to wait for the fire department to arrive.
“You better get down and get out of there!” J Dub yelled as he encouraged Lew to flee the bulldozer.
A hook and ladder truck and two tanker trucks raced down the fairway. They parked on the edge of the woods and sprayed several hoses of water toward the trees. Lew jumped off of the dozer and ran to safety. Voluminous amounts of smoke billowed across the golf course.
Shortly after Lew fled to safety the dozer caught on fire. As the oil burned, huge amounts of black smoke choked away the spectators. “Don’t you breathe a word of this to anybody, J Dub,” Lew instructed.
“What are you talking about? That dozer is sitting there for the world to see.”
“Keep your mouth shut. Maybe I can get some insurance money out of it,” Lew rationalized. When it came to money, nothing ever seemed to be his fault. Lew wanted to reap the rewards and didn’t want to pay anything out. He would do all that he could to stage an accident and file an insurance claim. There was no way that he would eat the cost of a bulldozer.
J Dub boarded the Truckster and Lew hitched a ride by standing up on the back of it. They made the long trek back to the clubhouse. After they entered through the front door, Julie gave Lew a mild look of disgust. “Well, if it ain’t Smokey the Bear,” she proclaimed.
The comment further agitated Lew. He glared at her while all of the boys in the back laughed at him. Lew motioned to J Dub to keep his mouth shut.
“The whole town has been calling. Everyone wants to know if the clubhouse burned down,” Julie continued.
The boys in the back really laughed it up at Lew’s expense.
“Tell whoever calls that somebody had a heart attack out on the course,” Lew countered.
“And we needed a hook and ladder to get them to heaven,” Julie deadpanned. The boys rolled with amusement in the background.
“Go get the checkbook,” Lew demanded.
“Do you want to give a donation to the fire department?” Julie questioned.
“No, for my work,” Lew insisted. Lew had the audacity to bill the golf course for his clearing work. Julie retrieved the checkbook. “Write me a check for forty-five thousand. Mark it down as clearing,” Lew ordered.
“How did I know that was coming?” Julie sarcastically replied.
J Dub felt the need to put in his two cents. “The only thing that you’ve been clearing out is our inventory. You should see the dozer, Julie.”
Lew glared at J Dub. He grabbed the check from Julie and fled through the door. J Dub wasn’t too pleased with the look that he received from Lew, nor was he happy about Lew going out the door with a check in his hand. He followed him to the parking lot.
J Dub wanted to ask Lew a few questions. He thought that this might make for an opportune time. Lew beat him to the punch. “Are you getting your ducks in order?” Lew asked.
“There are some things we need to talk about,” J Dub offered.
“Any hints as to what?”
“Two and two aren’t adding up to four,” J Dub claimed.
“What are you getting at?” Lew probed.
“I need a lower price,” J Dub demanded.
“Are you trying to screw me after all of these years?” Lew threw the situation back into J Dub’s lap. J Dub stared back at Lew in bewilderment. “I don’t negotiate!” Lew shouted.
“I want to know what you’ve been doing with the business,” stated J Dub.
“It might be a moot point anyhow,” Lew exclaimed.
“What are you getting at now?” asked J Dub.
“We’ve been sued. It might take a while to get it settled,” Lew offered in an agitated tone.
“What is that all about?” J Dub inquired. He was not in the least bit delighted to find out that they had been sued.
“It’s nothing. It’s just a nuisance type of thing. I’ll get it taken care of,” Lew explained.
“That sort of delays things for a while,” J Dub said.
“Keep working on buying the place. I want to sell it,” Lew stressed.
With the news of a pending lawsuit, J Dub took on a resolved attitude. There wasn’t a hurry to buy the place after all. That problem would need to be solved before he could go forward. He h
anded Lew a letter and changed subjects. “Here’s a letter from the hospital naming a conference room after you,” he stated.
Lew grabbed the letter, glanced at it, wadded it up and threw it on the ground. “I’m done being charitable! That probably cost me a million bucks out of my pocket over the years,” he yelled.
He roared off on his motorcycle. He had become an obstinate old man that was near the end of the road. His life had turned to an unhappy saga.
J Dub stared into the distance. He grabbed his golf clubs, rounded up Bogey, and headed to the driving range to pound balls. He had some thinking to do and some stress to release. “Yeah, you’re a regular Jerry Lewis running a telethon with your charity work,” J Dub angrily muttered under his breath.
Chapter Fifty-One
Hearing the buzzing of his alarm sounding at 4:30 am wasn’t as difficult for J Dub as it was most people. He was a morning person to be sure and didn’t mind starting his days this way. His new home was fairly close to the golf course. As a rule the drive would not be more than five minutes or so. Just about one hundred percent of the time he made that drive in the early morning darkness. It was his responsibility to be at the course before the crack of dawn. He needed to have things ready to go by the time the first golfers started showing up for their tee times.
The golf course superintendent and the help that operated the greens mower usually arrived well before J Dub. The first greens had to be cut in the darkness. It took a special person to arrive in the wee hours of the morning to get the place set up for play. The payback for those employees was that their work day was generally over by lunchtime.
When J Dub pulled into the parking lot on this specific morning he expected things to be the same as every morning. After parking his pickup truck his habit was to continue to the cart barn and greet Bogey. The dog would jump into his arms and lap at his face. J Dub would make sure that Bogey’s food bowl and water bowl were replenished. Then the two of them would pull golf carts out of the barn and park them in front of the clubhouse.
Nevertheless, this morning was a little different. Shortly after parking his pickup truck another set of headlights entered the parking lot. J Dub thought nothing of it. He guessed that some golfers couldn’t sleep and wanted to get an early start. Once in a while a couple of golfers would show up and want to shoot the breeze in the pro shop rather than a coffee shop somewhere.
