The Back Nine: A Novel About Life After Fifty

by E. A. Briginshaw

  “Tough day out there today,” Bruce said.

  Josh looked up. “Hi Dad. Yeah, it was.”

  “Have you figured out what the problem is?”

  Josh sighed. “Haven’t a clue. I seem to be okay here on the putting green, but it all falls apart when I’m out on the course.”

  Josh noticed what his father was carrying. “What’s with the bag?”

  “It’s actually for you.”

  Bruce placed the bag in front of him.

  “I don’t understand,” Josh said. “You out-bid me for it. You won it fair and square.”

  “I was trying to get it for you. I was planning to hang onto it and give it to you next Christmas. I’ll have you know, you made me pay about five hundred bucks more than I wanted to. I thought you were never going to stop bidding.”

  “Sorry. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t know you were going to bid on it and then things just started to snowball from there. I was hoping it would be a surprise.”

  Josh hit another putt. “So why are you giving it to me now?”

  “Cause you look like you need it. Besides, I wasn’t sure you’d be talking to me after I kick your ass in our match tomorrow.”

  Josh smiled. “Bring it on, old man.”

  * * *

  When Cheech left the clubhouse that evening, he was surprised to see Maggie leaning up against his car.

  “Maggie, what are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. I just wanted to let you know that I was pretty impressed with you calling that penalty on yourself today. It probably cost you the match.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Cheech said. “I really didn’t have a choice.”

  “Sure you did. You’re the only person in the world who knew that ball moved. We’d be none the wiser if you hadn’t told us.”

  “Yeah, but I’d know.”

  Maggie studied his face. “I don’t understand how a man can have so much integrity about a stupid golf game and yet have absolutely none when it comes to cheating on his wife.”

  Cheech looked around to make sure there was no one else in the parking lot. “Not that it makes any difference at this point, but I never actually cheated on you.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m not stupid. What about that chicky at the convention or your little running mate that I met at the hospital?”

  “Look, I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never slept with anyone else.”

  Maggie studied his face. He looked like he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t want to be played for a fool. “Well, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

  Cheech leaned up against the car and stared up into the darkening sky. “You’re probably right there, but I’m still not sure if I could have actually gone through with it.”

  Maggie crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Then why do it?”

  “Because it felt good to know that someone young and attractive was interested in an old fart like me. It had been a long time since anyone had.”

  “What about me?”

  “You don’t count. You’re my wife.”

  “I don’t count? Well, that says a lot right there.”

  Cheech reached out and touched her arm. “That’s not what I meant. Of course you count, but I mean it’s nice to know that someone other than your spouse finds you attractive.”

  “Well, welcome to the club buddy. Most days, I don’t think I could turn a man’s head even if my hair was on fire.”

  Cheech looked at her. “You still turn lots of heads. I see it all the time.”

  Nothing was said for several seconds.

  “So, you never actually cheated on me?” Maggie asked. “You promise?”

  “Never. I promise.”

  They both continued to lean up against the car staring into the darkening sky for several minutes.

  “So what do we do now?” Cheech asked.

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said. She looked around the parking lot. “I don’t suppose you can give me a ride over to Blackhawk Ridge, could you? I left my car there and I think my ride has already left.”

  “Sure,” Cheech said. He hit the button on his keys to unlock the doors.

  Maggie walked around to the passenger side of the car. “How the hell do you fit into this thing?” she asked. “I feel like my ass is going to be dragging on the ground.”

  “Yeah, this wasn’t one of my smartest purchases,” Cheech said. “It’s too small. My clubs barely fit in the trunk. I’m thinking about trading it in and getting something more practical.”

  Cheech started the car and slowly drove the car out of the parking lot and through the gated community. When he reached the main road, he accelerated, quickly shifting gears as he drove the twisting road through the hills toward Blackhawk Ridge.

  “It looks like it’s a fun car to drive,” Maggie said.

  “It is,” Cheech said. He looked over at her. “Want to give it a try?”

  “I would, but I don’t know how to drive a standard.”

  “It’s not that hard. I’ll teach you.”

  Cheech pulled the car over to the shoulder and they traded seats.

  “It’s not in gear right now,” Cheech said. “First gear is up and to the left, second gear is straight back down, third is back up and to the right, and fourth is back down. We won’t worry about fifth gear or reverse at this point. Just push in the clutch when you’re switching gears and then give it some gas and slowly let it out until it catches.”

  Maggie looked in the mirror to check to make sure that no other cars were coming, revved the engine a little bit, put it in first gear and then released the clutch. The car lurched forward and then stalled.

  “Shit. Are you sure you want me to do this? I don’t want to wreck your car.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Cheech said. “Give it another try. This time, try to release the clutch a little slower while at the same time giving it a bit more gas.”

  Maggie gave it another try and successfully got it moving forward this time. She accelerated as she pulled off the shoulder and onto the road.

  “Great,” Cheech said. “Now push in the clutch and shift into second.”

  Maggie tried, but the stick shift wouldn’t slide all of the way down. She pulled a little harder and released the clutch. There was a horrible grinding sound, but it seemed to finally make it into second gear.

  “That didn’t sound good,” Maggie said.

  “You’re fine, just keep going.”

  Maggie continued to accelerate and shifted into third gear, this time more smoothly. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

  She stayed in third gear while she navigated her way along the twisting road. “You’re right, this is a fun car to drive.”

  In her rear view mirror, she saw a car coming up behind her. “Uh, oh. Someone’s behind me.”

  “You’re fine,” Cheech reassured her. “He’ll just pass you if you’re going too slow.”

  But Maggie knew the road had too many curves for them to pass and she felt too nervous with someone right behind her. At the next turn in the road, she pulled off the main road and down a gravel side road.

  “Shift her back down into second,” Cheech said.

  It took a few attempts, but Maggie eventually managed to get it into second gear. She continued along the gravel road looking for a place to turn around, but none appeared. Eventually, the road came to a dead end and they parked in a clearing that overlooked the city. There was a small sign that said they were at “Blackhawk Lookout.”

  From the ridge, they could see the glow of the city below them. They could also see the lights from the clubhouse at Riverview.

  “It’s pretty,” Maggie said.

  Cheech looked around. There was another car parked at the far end of the clearing. He didn’t see anyone in it, but the windows seemed to be fogged up.

  “Uh, oh,” he said.

  “What?” Maggie asked.

&nbs
p; “We seem to have ended up in a make-out spot.”

  “Really? How do you know that?”

  Cheech nodded his head toward the car at the far end of the clearing.

  “So, is this where you bring all your dates in your hot little sports car?” Maggie asked.

  “Don’t blame me. You were the one driving. Besides, I don’t think this car is big enough to make out in.”

  Maggie looked around. It was a pretty small car. It had a back seat, but it didn’t look big enough for a person to actually sit in. The only thing on it was Cheech’s jacket.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Maggie said. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Do the seats recline?”

  Cheech reached down and pressed the power seat adjuster. His seat-back gradually moved back until it was almost fully reclined.

  “How’d you do that?” Maggie asked.

  “Just hit the button on the side of your seat.”

  Maggie did and her seat fully reclined. They stared at each other for a few seconds, both seemingly wondering what was going to happen next.

  “I’ve missed you,” Cheech said.

  “I’ve missed you too,” Maggie replied. She raised an eyebrow. “You know, it would be a shame for you to trade this car in before it had been properly christened. If you slide your left leg over onto my seat and angle yourself a bit sideways, this might work.”

  Cheech did as he was told. Then Maggie swung her leg over so she was straddling him. When she lifted her head up to remove her top, she accidently hit the button that controlled the moon roof and it slid open.

  “Sorry about that,” she said as she nestled back down toward him. She felt something hard underneath her.

  “Oh Cheech, you really did miss me.”

  Cheech groaned. “That’s not me. That’s the gear shift!”

  Maggie giggled like a teenager. Cheech laughed until he snorted.

  Suddenly their car lit up. Another car was driving through the clearing and its headlights shone directly at their sports car.

  Maggie poked her head out of the moon roof. “Shit, it’s the cops!”

  The policeman didn’t get out of his car, probably not wanting to embarrass anyone. He slowly continued driving through the clearing toward the other car and then circled back toward them. “The lookout closes at dusk,” he announced over his loudspeaker, “so let’s move along.”

  Maggie scrambled to put her top back on. Cheech shimmied out the passenger door from underneath her and felt his back twinge when he did so. He slowly walked around the car to the driver’s side.

  “Good evening, officer,” Cheech said. “We’ll be on our way shortly.”

  The officer lowered his window and shone his flashlight at Cheech. “I don’t suppose you have anyone in there with you who could be under age,” the officer said.

  Maggie got out of the car and the officer directed the flashlight at her. “Thanks for the compliment, officer, but I can assure you that I’m old enough to be doing this type of thing.”

  The officer just shook his head and turned off the flashlight.

  * * *

  The next morning, Cheech was on the driving range warming up before his match against Stryker. He was just going through the motions as his mind was on what had happened the night before.

  After his rendezvous with Maggie had been interrupted by the police officer, cooler heads had prevailed. He had simply driven Maggie back to her car at Blackhawk Ridge. Fortunately, it was just a short distance from the lookout, as no words were exchanged between them on the drive. He had thought about asking her back to his place, but didn’t for some reason. He wondered if she had wanted him to.

  When she got out of the car, all he had said was “Good luck in your match tomorrow”. What a lame thing to say. She had looked at him with a puzzled look on her face and then left without saying a word.

  Cheech hit another practice shot. He knew she would be over on the first tee, as her match would be starting soon. He should probably go over to talk to her, but he still had no idea as to what he would say.

  When Cheech hit his next shot, he felt his back twinge a bit. The ball hit the hosel of the club and careened wildly to the right.

  Bruce, who was warming up on the range beside him, turned to look at him. “Did you just shank that?”

  Suddenly, everyone else on the range stopped and turned toward them. Bruce had dared to say the S-word out loud. The shanks were every golfer’s worst nightmare. When a golfer has the shanks, even his closest friends will abandon him like he has the worst contagious disease possible.

  “No,” Cheech lied. “My back is a little stiff this morning. I just hit it off the toe.”

  He tried to stretch out his back. He was sure he had tweaked it while trying one of their acrobatic maneuvers in the car last night. There was no way he was going to share that information with anyone.

  He hit a few more warmup shots that went long and straight.

  The first match of the day was now teeing off. “Now on the tee, representing Blackhawk Ridge, Maggie Martin,” the loudspeaker announced.

  On the practice tee, Cheech clanked another one and it squirreled to the right, bouncing in front of the other players on the range. There was no denying it this time. A shank has a very distinctive sound.

  No one said a word, but the range was cleared within seconds. No one wanted to be around him.

  Cheech was alone and in trouble. Was the glitch in his swing being caused by his twitchy back? Or was the problem in his head? He didn’t have a clue.

  Chapter 25: Thunder & Lightning

  Max was late getting to the golf course that morning. This, the final day of the Challenge Cup, was the one morning he didn’t want to be late. But Sylvia, his father’s homecare assistant, hadn’t shown up. After numerous unanswered phone calls, Max had finally clued in that she wouldn’t be coming at all. It was a holiday, Labour Day Monday, and she wasn’t supposed to work.

  Max had called his sister to see if she could take care of their father for the day, but she hadn’t answered either. So here was Max, driving like a mad man with his father, Arthur, in the passenger seat beside him, trying to get to the golf course before the first match of the day teed off.

  “Where are we?” Arthur asked when they pulled into the parking lot.

  “Riverview,” Max said.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Max had already explained the situation to his father several times that morning, but it didn’t seem to be sinking in. His confusion and forgetfulness seemed to be getting worse and worse with each passing day.

  “Dad, I don’t have time for this,” Max pleaded. “Please just stay in the golf cart. I’ve got a lot to do today.”

  Max had planned to meet with his team before the first match teed off to deliver some kind of inspirational speech, but the first group was already on the second hole by the time they arrived. Probably just as well. Panic was not something a team should see in their captain before they hit their first shot.

  Riverview was starting the last day of the competition two points behind. Max arrived at the first tee as the third match of the day was about to tee off. Maggie Martin, from Blackhawk Ridge, was going up against Riverview’s Anne-Marie Tremblay. Maggie pushed her tee shot into the right rough, but Anne-Marie striped hers right down the middle of the fairway.

  “Looks like these ladies don’t really need any help from you,” Arthur said.

  Max sighed and looked at his father. But he was probably right. At this point, it was really up to the players themselves to pull out a win.

  Max headed out to the second green to see how the first match was going. Marilyn Thompson, Bruce’s wife, was representing Riverview in the first match and going up against Janice Smith. Psychologically, it was important that Marilyn win the first match to pull Riverview back to within a point. Falling three points behind Blackhawk Ridge might prove too big of a hurdle to overcome.

  Max saw both ladies hit their ap
proaches into the green. Janice had about a twenty foot putt, with Marilyn’s birdie putt about half that distance. Both ladies were smiling and chatting while they played. Don’t they realize how important this first match is?

  Janice hit her birdie putt about three feet by the hole.

  “That’s good,” Marilyn said, conceding the next shot.

  Max grimaced. She shouldn’t be conceding that putt. God, that woman doesn’t have a competitive bone in her body!

  Marilyn missed her birdie putt as well and both women headed for the third tee, continuing to chat up a storm.

  Max wanted to go talk to Marilyn to tell her to stop conceding such long putts, but then reconsidered. He knew Marilyn wasn’t happy with him for asking Bruce to go up against his son in the matches. She’d probably start conceding even longer putts just to spite him. He decided to turn his focus to the other matches.

  In the second ladies match, Ally Walker was going up against Becky Henderson. Becky was one of the top golfers in the city, so it would be hard for Ally to win that match for Riverview. But as the match progressed, Ally was putting up quite a fight.

  Max and his father followed that group for most of the day. Arthur seemed bored, but Max was thankful that he seemed content to just sit in the cart. Max was fully engaged, continually giving Ally encouragement and advice. He was even more despondent than she was when she lost the match by missing a short putt on the seventeenth hole.

  After that match ended, Max raced up to the eighteenth green to see how Marilyn’s match would end up. It appeared that the match was going down to the wire. He watched as Marilyn drained a long putt. Was that the winning putt? No, it couldn’t be because Janice was lining up her putt. Janice ran her putt three feet by once again.

  “That’s good,” Marilyn said.

  Had Marilyn just conceded a three-footer to win the match? Or was that for the tie? Max was beside himself not knowing what was going on. He tried to remain calm as both ladies shook hands and walked off the green toward him. They continued to chat like they didn’t have a care in the world.