by James Ross
They drove to the hotel and carried everything into the ballroom. J Dub lit the Sterno burners while Marcia arranged the place settings. She had planned the menu, prepared the food, color coordinated the presentation, picked out the appropriate flowers and trimmings, and made sure that plenty of her business cards were available. She had thought of everything to make her presentation come off perfectly.
The only thing left was to wait for the people to show up.
At long last, throngs of people started to file through the door. The women were dressed in evening gowns. The men wore business suits mostly and Marcia even spotted a few tuxedos in the crowd.
Marcia had on a uniform that exemplified her professionalism. She put on a great performance and turned on the charm. J Dub, on the other hand, stayed in the background and assisted her when needed. It was his job to make sure that the stock was replenished.
The initial rush was hectic. Both J Dub and Marcia moved at a frantic pace. After the crowd got food the tempo slowed down. That allowed J Dub to take a short break. He moved to the cooler and reached for a soft drink. While he enjoyed a sip he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Long time, no see,” Mel Parker bellowed.
J Dub was elated. “I thought that you might be here!” he howled. “I figured somebody would be representing the hospital.”
“You know how these functions are for me,” Mel said as he smiled and raised his drink in the air.
J Dub reached into the cooler and grabbed a Peach Snapple. “My wife made sure that we were prepared.”
“Oh my, those get me in trouble!” Mel shouted as he laughed heartily.
J Dub handed the Peach Snapple to an invigorated Mel. “One won’t hurt you.”
“How’s life been treating you?” Mel inquired. “Did you ever buy the golf course?”
“I’m working on it. What a long drawn out process that is,” J Dub responded. “What was all that about you naming a room after Lew?”
“We’re adding a wing on to the hospital. All the people that have donated over the years will get their name on a plaque,” Mel explained. “It’s nothing.”
“He’ll be grouped with all the others?” J Dub fished for a response.
Mel nodded. “Speaking of which, I see that your partner is over with the number one power broker in town,” Mel offered.
J Dub had a confused look. He didn’t know what Mel meant. Mel motioned his head in the direction of the podium. A small gathering of people could be seen talking.
Near the stage was a banner that read: PARSONS FOR CONGRESS
Standing underneath the banner was Raymond Parsons and an unattractive gentleman with a short ponytail dressed in a frumpy suit and a necktie that reached about four inches above his belt. Lew and Lois stood to the left of the man with the ponytail. Lew looked very uncomfortable and out of place in his mechanics’ uniform. Lois tried to look her best in a wrinkled suit but had the ragged look of a middle-aged woman that was going downhill rapidly.
“I can remember back to the very first one of these, Monty. At that time one term would have been nice,” Raymond said.
Monty smiled. “You’ve done a great job of taking care of your constituents.”
“I would have never thought that my power base would have expanded this much.”
“You’ve got everybody in this room from the civic leaders to the bankers to the attorneys,” Monty declared. Raymond had a satisfied demeanor.
“Congratulations, Ray,” Lew proclaimed as he extended his hand.
“I can’t thank you enough for all of your support, Lew. As the largest single property owner in my Congressional district you have certainly been a positive influence in my personal and professional life,” Raymond gushed.
Lew nodded toward Monty. “You’ve got a good man in your corner, Ray.”
Raymond smiled at Monty. “Yes, I do. It is invaluable to have long time relationships based on trust.”
Monty and Lew could feel the positive vibrations thrown in their direction. The accolades from Raymond caused each to wear a smug grin.
Raymond looked Lew squarely in the eyes. “With all that you have done for us, you make sure that you let us know if we can ever be of any assistance to you at any time or at any place.”
From the other side of the room J Dub witnessed the exchange between the parties. It was obvious that Lew had enjoyed a fruitful liaison with Raymond Parsons. His first thought was that maybe the time was right to look at their relationship a little more closely. Perhaps Curt was onto something.
A voice blared through the public address system. “And it’s my pleasure to announce, running for his eleventh term as a United States Congressman . . . Raymond Parsons!”
Raymond advanced to the podium under a thunderous ovation. J Dub shook his head in disbelief. Marcia, after noticing Lew and Lois near the stage, glared at her husband and said, “That’s just great! He controls the politicians . . . and probably the judges and lawyers, too! Get away from the guy!”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Despite the bits and pieces that were occurring behind the scenes, life on the golf course continued on a daily basis. On a Sunday morning, nearly nine months after the fire on the golf course, Paul, Curt, Elia and Paco enjoyed a round of golf. Bogey joined the guys for an early morning eighteen.
It was an uneventful morning. The sun was shining brightly. The guys were playing at a steady pace. Bogey was chasing the ducks and watching them fly away into the lakes. The trees were in full bloom and the temperature was perfect. The foursome had just visited with “Easy Earl” who had been out on the course tending to his marshaling duties. Typically on Sunday mornings, he would empty the trash containers, make sure that the play was steady, and cast his fishing line into one of the lakes on the course with the hope of landing a few bluegills and an occasional bass.
The guys putted out on the thirteenth green and headed for the fourteenth tee box. They pulled their golf carts to a stop by the tee box. “I wonder where that idiot is today,” Paco said. “He normally pulls up to bother us before now.”
“He won’t be around to pester us on this hole,” Curt replied. “We’ve reached the spot of His Majesty’s creation.”
The trees to the right of the tee box were charred beyond belief. A burnt bulldozer still sat in the woods completely destroyed. The guys stood and stared at the damage. “Oh, my,” Elia exclaimed. In a sarcastic tone he added, “You know, he does such good work. I wonder if Lew is ever going to move that.”
Muffler sounds broke the peace and quiet of the golf course. Lew could be seen in the distance racing toward them. He cut in front of a foursome that was hitting and revved the motor toward the boys.
“It looks like you spoke too soon,” Paul said. “Here he comes.”
“I wish that he would have thrown that noisy piece of crap in the fire too,” Paco blurted. “Do you think it’s too late?”
Lew pulled up to a stop next to the guys and asked, “What do you think?”
“ . . . About your artwork,” Elia kidded “or your clean-up job?”
“You know, that new look,” Lew blurted. He wanted to hear that what he had done was acceptable to some of the regulars.
“You should have kept your seat belt on,” Paco offered.
Elia couldn’t resist the opportunity to add, “I bet you felt right at home in that heat.”
“Hey look at it this way Elia, at least we don’t have to worry about the birds shittin’ all over us on number fourteen,” Paco joked. The branches and foliage had disappeared from the tree trunks.
“Yeah, there ain’t no birds in those trees now,” Elia replied.
The guys laughed heartily at Lew’s expense. “Say, Lew, when we have the Boy Scout scramble you can throw in a wienie roast,” Paul yelled.
“And you can roast your buns in the drivers’ seat,” Elia added. The guys howled. They thought that the situation was hilarious. Bogey barked at Lew.
“What in the w
orld were you thinking?” Paul inquired.
Lew’s temper boiled over. He couldn’t stand being the butt of the joke. He gave the guys a defiant stare. Without saying a word, he raced the engine on his motorcycle. In a split second he popped a wheelie and squealed off. The sounds of the muffler echoed across the golf course. He could be seen cutting in front of agitated players on the course.
Sunday mornings at Prairie Winds Golf Course were notorious for patterned behavior. The same golfers had the identical tee times week after week. The part-time help fell into a routine also. Easy Earl would always get up early and fish in one of the lakes while tending to his chores. After he killed a few hours he would take a circuitous route back to the clubhouse. During that time he would reach into all of the trash cans and grab the empty aluminum cans.
This Sunday morning was no different, except that Lew, in a rotten mood, pulled up to Earl as he reached into a trash container. “What are you doing out here this morning?” Lew asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Easy Earl countered.
Lew shrugged his shoulders. “ . . . Nothing. Whatever we pay you is way too much. You’re about as worthless as they come.”
“I’m doing the same thing that I do every Sunday morning you idiot. I just got done fishing and now I’m picking up some trash,” Earl replied. “And, by the way, I’m not on your payroll this morning.”
Earl threw several cans on the ground and proceeded to step on them. Lew looked at him with amazement. “Why are you throwing the cans on the ground?” a bewildered Lew asked.
Earl picked the crushed cans up and placed them in a trash bag. “I recycle these,” he said.
“Why bother with that garbage? You look like some bum off the street going through trash,” Lew declared.
Easy Earl had been retired for a number of years. He had been living on a fixed income for quite a while and every little penny that he made helped him make ends meet. “I get three-thirty five a bag.”
Lew was baffled. He asked, “Three hundred and thirty-five dollars?”
“No!” Earl shouted. He then continued to laugh at Lew. “Three dollars and thirty-five cents, you dummy. If I turn in three bags to the recycle center then they will pay me ten bucks.”
When it came to money, Lew could never let an opportunity pass. With an ornery spirit he bluntly declared, “That’s golf course money.”
The statement caught Easy Earl by surprise. “What?” he proclaimed in an astonished tone. He glared at Lew. The thought of Lew ordering him to do something in a condescending way irked him. After all, Easy Earl was at least fifteen years older than Lew. He didn’t need to be told what to do.
“You heard me! From now on you turn that money into Julie. That adds to our bottom line,” Lew shouted.
The whole idea incensed Earl. In his opinion he was spending some of his own time to help clean up the golf course. If nothing else, he felt as if Lew should be thanking him. “I’ll tell you what,” Earl yelled. “Do it your fucking self!” He threw a trash bag at Lew. Earl then reached into the trash barrel and tossed cans all over the tee box. “I’m way too old for this shit!” Earl was miffed. His boiling point had reached its’ limit. He jumped into a golf cart and sped away.
Lew was left holding an empty trash bag. He stood in the middle of the litter and watched Earl disappear in the distance.
Easy Earl was livid. He started to hyperventilate. As his breath labored he clutched his heart. His body slumped at the wheel. The speeding golf cart moved erratically until it ran into a sand trap and stopped abruptly.
Chapter Sixty-Five
The passing of Easy Earl was upsetting to J Dub. Earl had been a “golf rat” the entire time that J Dub had been at Prairie Winds. He had retired years before and wanted to enjoy his golden years by doing something that he loved.
His passion had been golf. He loved to tee it up with the guys on a daily basis and hang around the clubhouse. The camaraderie with the rest of the fellows was what he really enjoyed. He had ample opportunity to play cards, backgammon, or roll the dice with the guys every afternoon. All he had to do was show up.
Earl was in the clubhouse every day in the early years. He became a trusted friend of J Dub to the extent that J Dub would let him run the register frequently. Since Earl was on a limited retirement stipend he wanted free golf. So J Dub put him on the payroll to help out around the golf course and play for free.
If he didn’t fill-in on the register, patrons would see Earl as a starter on the first tee box or as a marshal on the course. He would run odd jobs for the maintenance crew or simply take some kids out to fish in the lakes. If he was needed to fix a flat tire on a golf cart, then J Dub could count on him.
Earl was up every morning at four and was normally the first guy to show up right after dawn. J Dub could depend on Earl to be there early every day for a cup of coffee and some sunrise banter. If J Dub wanted Easy Earl to open up with him a few minutes before daybreak, then he could depend on Easy Earl to be there. Now it was over.
Everyone handles the death of a personal friend in a personal and private way. J Dub’s way of handling the death of Earl was to drive around the course that Earl loved to play. He remembered the stories that were shared in the clubhouse after the rounds of golf. J Dub was going to miss Earl. He lost a good friend, a trusted confidant, and an all-around good guy. He got on the Truckster, drove onto the course, and had an emotional cry on the lake bank where Earl normally liked to sit. He had a chance to privately share a tear for his old friend.
Word of Earl’s death traveled quickly to the close-knit family of regular golfers that played at Prairie Winds. The next order of business was to hold a simple gathering in Earl’s honor. Earl had gotten four hole-in-ones on the same par-three at Prairie Winds. J Dub knew exactly what he wanted to do.
Rollie, BT, Fred, Paul, Curt, Paco, Elia, Julie, and Bogey joined J Dub a few mornings later on the tee box of the par-three where Earl had gotten his glory. Conspicuous by his absence was Lew who was intent on snubbing Earl’s private memorial service. The boys had learned that another group of golfers had reported seeing a confrontation between Lew and Earl just prior to Earl’s heart attack.
J Dub conducted a short sermon. “This was Earl’s favorite spot out here. He had several enjoyable moments here watching his tee shot go into the hole. This tree will be in his remembrance.” He took a tree out of the Truckster and placed it into a hole that Rollie had dug.
“Each and every one of us has a story by which we’ll remember Earl. To some he was an old coot, to some he was a dad and a grandpa, but to us he was a good old friend,” J Dub said as the tears started to flow, “as good of a friend as a guy could ever hope for.”
Rollie threw dirt back into the hole so that the tree was anchored. One by one all of the guys in attendance stooped and placed a flower at the base of the tree. Julie had taken an old scorecard, on which Earl had broken seventy, encased it in a plastic covering, and mounted it on a stand by the tree. J Dub reached into the Truckster and grabbed a plaque that dedicated the tree to Easy Earl. He placed it at the base of the tree.
The guys had lost a good buddy. There wasn’t a dry eye in the group.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Marcia was getting more and more impatient by the day. She wanted to get her husband away from Lew. Easy Earl wasn’t actually killed by Lew, but in Marcia’s mind Lew was the one that was responsible for bringing on the anxiety that triggered the heart attack. She didn’t want that same stress level to rise in her husband.
There was a part of Marcia that wanted J Dub to get the golf course. It would offer a tremendous business opportunity for them. Their financial security would be well established for the remainder of their lives in all likelihood if that was to happen.
Yet, there was another part of Marcia that wanted to get her husband out from underneath the shadow of Lew Zerrmann. She didn’t like him or trust him. She didn’t think that he was going to deliver on his con
tractual obligation to sell the business to J Dub. Marcia hated to see her husband used and controlled by such a contemptible person.
The delays and the lawsuit and the IRS investigation and the due diligence period that Curt and J Dub felt was necessary were all factors that contributed to her uneasiness. Little did Marcia know that all of those things played right into Lew’s hand. Lew wanted Marcia to feel impatient. He wanted to get J Dub to leave. The sooner that he could get rid of J Dub, the quicker he could make a better deal for himself.
Emotions seemed to boil over soon after Earl’s death. J Dub and Marcia were doing some minor landscaping in front of their home. A few of the bushes needed to be replaced. In addition, Marcia wanted to plant some flowers to add a colorful, vibrant look to the scenery.
Marcia worked on her hands and knees and was busy digging a hole when she looked over her shoulder toward J Dub and said, “You never know, but this might be your calling in life.”
She was upset with the delays on the purchase of the golf course. The comment was her way of trying to plant a seed in J Dub’s mind. J Dub had no idea what she was referring to so he just looked in her direction and continued to plant flowers and back fill dirt into the holes that had been dug.
“You’re not the next one that gets put in the ground, are you?” Marcia continued.
“If I am, then make mine an oak tree, too.” J Dub made reference to the type of tree that was planted in Earl’s honor. He wanted to make light of the conversation.
Marcia’s impatience and irritability had been on the rise the last few weeks. J Dub’s comment struck a nerve with her. “J Dub, I’m serious.” She held her gaze at J Dub to emphasize her point and then continued digging.
Marcia’s digging became more rapid. She was frantically throwing dirt away from the hole. Her temper was starting to get the best of her. With the next thrust into the ground she hit a rock with the hand shovel. She grimaced and shook her hand.
