Swing Thoughts

Beep, beep, beep. The groceries passed by the barcode scanner, forming a monotonous beat that was further enhanced by the popping of the cashier's gum. The sounds lulled me into a daze as I found myself staring at the cover of US Weekly, not caring enough about what I was looking at to focus my eyes and learn which celebrity was pregnant this week.

"Cash or credit" the bleach blonde teen behind the counter asked me.

"Uh credit." I said, returning to the real world. I turned to my cart, looking for the package of Oreos that I had just purchased. I pulled back the plastic, grabbed a cookie, and was just about to put it into my mouth when I turned to find the cashier staring at me, popping her gum with her hands crossed in front of her.

"You have to swipe your card if you're gonna pay with credit." She said to me, not attempting to hide her displeasure with me.

"Shit my bad." I said, putting the cookie in my mouth as I fished my wallet out of my back pocket. Waiting for the card to process, I looked to my left to the line of people waiting to check out behind me, only to find the same look of displeasure on their faces. Quickly scribbling a signature on the pad, I grabbed the receipt from cashier Barbie with a half-smile and hustled my cart out towards the parking lot.

As the automatic doors slid open for me to go outside, the sun hit my eyes at a blinding angle causing me to throw one of my hands up in an effort to actually see where I was going. With my other hand I pushed on, angling across the parking lot towards my truck. Through my outstretched fingers I caught sight of my black ford right where I left it and made a beeline for it.

As I reached the bed of the truck, I started hoisting my groceries into the back when there was scraping at the glass from inside the cab of the truck. I looked up to find my dog Tuck scraping at the back window with both claws trying to get out.

"Get down from there you smelly bastard, you know better than that." I said to him as I put the last of the bags into the bed. I gave the cart a push towards a couple of others that were congregating in the spot next to the truck. As I opened the driver side door and climbed into the cab, I looked across the seat to the now half asleep Tuck and told him, "If you're not careful I'll put you back there and put the groceries in your seat, then you'll see how you rate." He and I both knew that it was an empty threat, and he yawned as I laughed to myself and put the key into the ignition.

As we made our way out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Tuck got up and put his two front paws on the dash in order to better to survey the road as we made our way out of town. I switched on the radio and before long we were off the busy streets of Darney, Indiana and on our way back to the farm. Tuck and I both enjoy being around civilized folk once in a while but we'd both rather be back on the farm where it's much less inhabited.

Turning off Route 17 and onto our driveway, the house and the barn came into view, the setting sun casting sunbeams around and between them. The sun also reflected off the sign that read "Paul's Driving Range" that protruded off the roof of the barn. It's been a while since the farm had any animals other than Tuck and a few barn rats on it, but it still feels right to live somewhere with a barn in case I get the inclination to have some horses like my father. In any case, I need a place to lock the driving range equipment up in so the barn is more helpful then harmful.

As I pulled up and parked next to the barn, I opened the door and Tuck jumped out in front of me as the familiar sounds of a golf club hitting a ball rang out from in the barn. I walked over to the door and looked into the barn to find as familiar a sight as there is at the range, my little buddy Johnny hitting range balls off a mat into an old carpet that I had hung from the hay loft. Now his clubs might be bigger than he is but it doesn't stop Johnny from coming down to the range on his bike every day to hit balls from dawn till dusk. Johnny and I have a deal that he can hit as many balls as he wants as long as he helps me pick the range when I'm giving a lesson or out on the town like today. Johnny learned quickly that he was the one that hit the most balls out on to the range, and he now very rarely hits balls outside so that he doesn't have to pick them up himself. I have to say I applaud his lazy ingenuity, as I ould have done the same if I was him.

"I think you shanked that last one." I said to him after he took another one of his long, loopy, out of control swings.

"Bull shit I did, that was pure." He said to me without looking up, pulling another ball up on to the mat with his club and hitting it with a little extra oomph.

I smiled as I said to him, "I think it's time for you to be on your way, the suns going down and if you get hit biking home your parents will be some pissed at both of us. Is the range clean?"

"Course it is, that's what you pay me for isn't it?" He said, still not looking at me but smiling as he continued to pound golf balls into the carpet, aiming at a red X he rather unceremoniously painted on it one day. "A couple more swings and I'll head out, I'll be sure to lock the barn before I leave."

"Sounds good Johnny, see ya tomorrow." I said as I turned back towards the truck. Grabbing the groceries out of the back, I headed for the front door of the house and whistled for Tuck. He came running from around back of the barn and hit the bottom step of the porch right as I did, ready for me to open the door so that he could go look for food inside.

I turned the key in the lock and Tuck did the rest, throwing all his weight at the old wooden door so that it swung open enough for him to get inside. "Thanks for holding the door for me, ya ass." I said to Tuck's backside as he headed up the stairs across from the front door. I swung the door open the rest of the way with a well-placed nudge of my hip and walked towards the kitchen to put away the groceries. As I took everything out of the cumbersome plastic bags and put it on the table, I made the same realization that I always do after I went grocery shopping; none of it was good for me. That's what you get for living alone, I thought to myself as I looked across my collection of confectionary sugars, salty snacks, and fatty foods. They'll find me one day dead in my chair with a Twinkie in one hand and a soda in the other, I thought with a silent laugh in my head, at least I'll have a smile on my face.

I abandoned my groceries on the table and headed to check the answering machine. "Honey I'm home!" I yelled up the stairs to my imaginary significant other, but like usual she was too busy not being a real person to respond to me. Switching on the television, I crashed down into my favorite chair and clicked the play button on the flashing red answering machine next to me.

"Hey Paul, it's your cousin Steve, just checking in on yo-" Skip, I'll deal with that one later I thought. I had learned from past experience that I had at least a week to call back before I got a follow up call to see if I was still alive. Don't get me wrong I like my family and all but sometimes it takes way to much brain power for me to hold up my end of a conversation about how everyone's kids are dong in ballet class.

"Mr. Henderson, this is Natalie Pritchard from Twin Valley Credit Union, I'm calling to discuss with you the terms of your-" Delete. I know that if it's really serious I'll get a visit from someone in person, or at the very least a strongly worded letter. I'm never too worried about my dealings with the bank, the vice president has a finicky golf swing and the number of times he comes to me for a lesson each season before his corporate outings he alone can keep me in business.

"Hey Tin Cup, you must be out picking golf balls outta horse shit again, so sorry to have missed you." The sarcastic but welcoming sound of my friend Tim Lautner's raspy voice came out of the box. I took my hand off the button in order to listen to the rest of his message. "I'm sending someone over to your executive range tomorrow to take a lesson, didn't think you'd mind the extra cash flow. I got a big scramble to take care of tomorrow or I'd do it myself, you know me. Call me back if ya can't." The machine beeped and alerted me that that was the end of my messages and I turned my attention to the television that I had clicked on in the middle of Tim's message.

As I flipped through the channels I thought to myself, that'll be good, a couple of lessons already on the books for tomorrow will be a nice guarantee of some cash flow. Plus I had nothing better planned so I welcome the opportunity. I just pray to god that it wasn't an old women, there is no bigger waste then teaching a 70 year old grandmother how to hit a golf ball. I'd rather stand there and let Johnny it range balls at me from 10 yards away.

Tuck must have heard me turn on the television as he came bounding into the room and leapt up into the chair with me, laying between my right thigh and the arm of the chair with his head on his front paws. I scratched the hair between his ears as I turned to the widow to see Johnny locking up and hopping on his bike. I waved from the window, and returned my attention to the television which was playing a rerun of Two and a Half Men.

The rest of the night went by uneventful, a quiet supper of mac and cheese, some more TV with Tuck, and then off to bed just as the Tonight Show was coming on. As I lay down, I plugged in my phone and set an alarm for 7:00 am. I wasn't when those people were coming by, but I wouldn't put it past Tim to have told them to show up at 7:30 in the damn morning so I wanted to be up just in case. Before I had time to think twice about it, I was out cold, deeply enveloped by dream land.

7:00 am came all to quick, and I had half a mind to throw my cell phone out the window and go back to bed. Thinking better of it, I rolled over to the side of the bed and threw my feet over to rest on the floor as I sat on the edge. Tuck, who had been sleeping on the end of the bed sprawled out to take up much more room than a Jack Russell should opened one eye and looked at me as if to say "This early?"

"Ya buddy, it's time to get up." I said to him reaching over to scratch his belly. I stood up and stretched, Tuck did the same, and both headed off toward the stairs. In the kitchen, I threw some food into his dish and switched on the kettle to heat up some water for coffee. I still don't like the taste of coffee, but I feel like as an adult it is my duty to drink it in the morning or else my day isn't started the right way. Plus, if you put enough milk and sugar in it, it doesn't taste half bad.

As I waited for the kettle to whistle at me, I walked over to the window to look out across the field to see the sun now fully risen over the trees in the distance. There was already a steady stream of cars on Route 17, and soon enough the fine patron's of my establishment would be coming to hit golf balls to their hearts desire. The kettle started screaming so I turned to the stove and made up my morning coffee.

Breakfast in hand I headed up the stairs to throw on some jeans and a shirt. At first I put on an old comfortable t-shirt but then I remembered that I would be giving lessons today and opted instead for one of my official Paul's Driving Range polos. Dressed and ready to go, I headed back down the stairs and straight out the front door, pausing only to make sure that Tuck passed through my legs and outside so that I didn't have to worry about watching too much TV or eating too many cookies.

The dust from the gravel driveway kicked up in the soft breeze as the soft spikes on my golf shoes caught the earth. The door to the barn creaked as it opened, and as soon as I saw that everything was in its place, I grabbed my clubs, locked it up again and headed to the range.

My range is nothing special, but it's mine and I'm not ashamed of it either. It's got 20 stalls, metal dividers, both turf and real grass hitting areas as well as a fake grass putting and chipping green. I plan on building a couple real holes on the land around the range as soon as I hit the lottery or marry rich, but until then I do just fine with the range. Having so many fields is a positive, as it means that I didn't have to invest in any nets to keep the golf balls from hitting anything; you'd be hard pressed to hit a golf ball anywhere close to the road or to anyone's house, you might need a cannon to do that.

Being that I was already up and it didn't seem like anyone was in a hurry to come hit balls or get a lesson, I took out my key to the ball machine, unlocked the back, and scooped out a small bucket to hit to warm myself up for the day. After all, to me there is nothing quite like hitting a golf ball in the morning to really make you appreciate the life you live. I put down my bag next to my regular spot, dumped the bucket of balls on the ground, and grabbed my pitching wedge. A few quick stretches to crack all the right bones, and then I was right into it. I corralled the first ball, and took aim at the rusty truck that was parked on the range as the 100 yard marker. Just like I had a million time before, I took the club back behind my head, and followed through nice and smooth right back down to where I had started. Only this time something felt different and as I made my follow through and looked up to my target, I saw the head of my wedge flying off like a boomerang towards the truck, with the ball skittering off to the left on the ground.

"Son of a bitch." I muttered to myself as I held the now headless club out in front of my face. The damn head had snapped clean off, right on impact. I looked down to the ground and found nothing suspicious, no rocks had migrated to under the mat the night before. "Shit," I said, still not believing that this had happened on my first swing of the day. "That can't be a good sign."

Shaking my head in disgust, I headed off on to the range to retrieve the now dismembered head of my fallen pitching wedge. I picked it up, and as I walked back toward my bag I kicked at the golf ball that had caused me to break my club somehow. As my swift kick sent the ball rolling back towards the rest of them, I heard the sounds of a car headed down my driveway. There goes that, I thought, no quiet range session this morning, time to go to work. As the car parked next to my truck in the driveway, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door of the pro shop.

When I say pro shop, I mean the shed that I turned into my golf business center. It sits between the barn nd the range facing all of the hitting stalls, and inside you can find just about anything you need to play golf, and if not I can get it ordered for you real quick. It's not big but it's packed full of gear and it's got a fridge full of soda and a vending machine if you need a snack while you're at the range. I even plug in the grill and make hot dogs and burgers sometimes when I'm feeling like a real business man, but that's once in a blue moon.

Putting my bag down behind the counter at the back of the shop, I switched on the register and clicked on the TV above my head. It's always on the golf channel, even if it does get any other channels I wouldn't know or care, nothing makes people want to buy golf clubs like watching the way they are supposed to be used. Not that anyone coming to my range is about to challenge Tiger Woods anytime soon but you get the jist.

Just as I was getting comfortable, I heard a trunk slam and footsteps begin to make their way towards the shop. As the voice of Brandel Chamble talking about the PGA tournament coming up tomorrow came softly through the speakers of the television, I looked up the doorway and immediately cursed to myself in my mind. In the doorway stood the quintessential golf douchebag. He was wearing a completely orange get up like he was Rickie Fowler on Sunday, complete with the flat billed hat. Nothing against Rickie, it's just that anyone wearing that outfit that's not on television, I immediately know that they can't hit a golf ball to save their life.

"Good morning there, what can I do for ya?" I said, hitting the mute button on the television remote and hoping that he wasn't here for a lesson.

"The head professional at Darney Country club sent me to get a lesson from you, as long as you are Paul Henderson." He said back to me. Damn. Is it bad that I don't even like the sound of his voice? I thought to myself. I'd be giving Jim hell for this next time I saw him.

"Guilty as charged, you ready to go?" I asked, getting up from behind the counter.

"Ya." He said back to me as he turned for the door. I grabbed my 7-iron out of my bag and headed out to follow him. As I got to the door he appeared again, bag over his shoulder (which was also orange), blocking my path out. "Is it a big deal if my girlfriend hangs out while I get my lesson? If not it's ok she can hang out in the car."

"Did ya crack a window for her?" I asked, chuckling at my own joke, which I immediately saw had fallen flat on my companion.

"So she can't watch?" He asked, not much of a smile on his face at all.

"Nah of course she can, I was just messing with ya man." I said, scooting by him and out the door.

"He said you can watch." I heard him say, but I didn't bother to turn around to see what she looked like, I just silently prayed that she wasn't also wearing orange. I headed towards the bucket of balls that I had gotten out for myself and pulled them all into a pile as I waited for them to come over.

As I heard him put his bag down behind me I turned and said "I didn't catch your name?" but I wasn't listening to whatever he was going to answer. Behind Rickie Jr. was undoubtedly the prettiest woman that had ever been on my driving range. She looked to be about my age; her hair was brown and curly, and it lay upon her shoulders just right. Her eyes were just barely green, and her smile was simple and sweet. She wore a simple shirt, jeans, and sandals but somehow she still seemed so elegant. I could have looked at her longer, but I noticed that Orange bro had stopped talking so I had to put my tongue back into my mouth and do my job.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch that." I said to him, twirling the 7-iron in my left hand, still looking at the girlfriend out of the corner of my eye.

"Jay, my name is Jay." He said in the same disinterested voce that I had already grown accustomed to hearing from him.

"Nice to meet you Jay, it is a beautiful morning to hit some golf balls." I said to him extending my right hand to shake his. After he shook my hand, I turned to the girlfriend and asked, "and you are?"

"I'm Lily, nice to meet you." She said with a smile, shaking my hand as well. Damn, even her voice was beautiful; so calm and smooth like a warm breeze had swept across the range.

Shaking myself back to reality, I turned back to Jay and said, "Alright, why don't you get stretched out while we talk about what you want to work on today." Just like that I was into lesson mode, asking him about his game, having him hit a couple of balls with each club to look at what I was working with, and starting to work with his swing. Just as I suspected, he didn't have much of a swing at all. He only got the ball up into the air about half of the time, and every time he shanked one he would look back to Lily to see if she had been watching. Luckily for him Tuck had shown up and Lily had taken to siting on the ground and playing with him. If not anything else, at the very least that dog was a great wingman even if she did have a boyfriend. It took a lot of my mental strength to not stare at her more than I was, but soon we were heavy into the lesson and my attention turned to golf.

After a while I started to get Jay straightened out and he was beginning to hit the ball a lot better. All the while out of the corner of my eye I kept stealing looks at Lily as she sat in the grass, legs sprawled in front of her while she played with Tuck. Lucky dog, I thought to myself as Jay sent a range ball flying with his 3 wood out towards the tractor that sat at the 200 yard line.

"How's the swing feeling now?" I asked him, crossing my legs and putting all of my weight on the 7 iron I had been carrying around as a teaching tool.

"Surprisingly good." He replied, sending another ball shooting straight towards the tractor. I wasn't sure whether or not that was a jab at me, but I was in a good mood so I shook it off and continued.

"It's been just about an hour, I'd love to schedule for another lesson if you're interested in coming back. I know it's not exactly the Country Club out here but you've made some real good progress today." I have used that pitch so many times I forgot the first time I thought it up. I had devised it as a sure fire way to try and make as personal a sales pitch as possible. Even people like Jay that aren't exactly my cup of tea represent revenue every time they make their way down my driveway, and if you aren't out to make money then why are you in the business in the first place, right?

"You know what, I think I will. I wasn't sure about this place when we were driving in but it's not terrible." Another back handed jab, this time a little easier to discern, but again I let it go. "Is the same time next week alright?"

"Sounds good to me boss," I said back, giving him my best salesman smile, "I'll write you in on the calendar."

Jay gave me a nod, handed me a brand new $50 bill to pay for his lesson, and started putting away his clubs. Seeing that the lesson was over, Lily got up from the ground and walked over to us, Tuck following close on her heels.

"If I wanted to, could I get a lesson as well next week?" I hadn't expected her to ask me anything, let alone ask for a golf lesson. Jay hadn't either.

"I thought you said you didn't like golf, you never want to try when I ask." He said, not in jest but as if to say that she wasn't allowed to get a lesson, without actually using those words.

"I never said that, I said I didn't know anything about it. Paul looks like he knows what he's doing, and I'm thinking I want to learn how to play now." She said with a smile towards me that was so sweet I thought my heart might have skipped a beat. "So can I."

Regaining my ability to speak, I said "Well sure, the more the merrier!" with a little bit more gusto than I had originally intended. I looked at Tuck to find him giving me the same sideways look he always does when I'm doing something out of the ordinary. Some days I swear that dog is smarter than most humans, he always knows when something is up.

Jay gave me a bit of a scowl, I'm sure that he as hoping that I would have said no. He was also probably regretting letting her come along right about now, but I couldn't be happier about it. Even if she had a boyfriend, something about Lily was exciting to me. She hadn't spoken more than 25 words to or around me but I was already a bit smitten.

Just like that, Jay had put all of his clubs back in the bag and they were headed back towards his car, which I now noticed looked noticeably newer and more expensive then my less than pristine pick up. As they walked away, I turned and looked at Tuck who was laying on the ground, scratching his back on one of the turf mats. "That was a pleasant surprise wasn't it buddy." I said to him, playfully pushing him over with my foot.

"Hey Paul!" I heard Lily yell from over near the vehicles, my heart once again skipping a beat, "I like your truck!" She said with a wave, and then disappeared into the passenger seat of Jay's car. I could see him scowling once again through the windshield as he backed up and sped down my driveway in a flurry of dust and gravel.

"Well god damn Tuck, I think I might be in love." I said to the dog as he got up to follow me back into the pro shop. I was kidding of course, but I was in good spirits as I had $50 in my pocket, 2 lessons already scheduled for next week, and Lily to look forward to for a whole week.

The rest of the day went by like any other day at the range, but I would be lying to you if I said I wasn't in a good mood all day. Enough so even that when Johnny came in at his usual time, he looked at me and asked, "What the hell are you smoking?" Even Johnny's teenage attitude couldn't shake the smile off of my face, as I laughed and told him,

"You better get on that ball picker before I fire your ass!"

When the last range rat got done hitting balls and the sun began to set again behind the barn, I called it a day and locked up the shop, being sure to shut off the TV and get Tuck out from under one of the racks where he likes to sleep. As we walked back to the house, we could hear the all too familiar whack of Johnny hitting away as usual in the barn.

Hot dogs and pasta salad were on the dinner menu, and I even was feeling generous enough to cut one up for Tuck as a treat. He's fat enough as it is, but I can't help but share my food with him sometimes when he won't stop following me around in the kitchen. As we made our way into the living room to eat, I flopped down in my usual spot and clicked on the television to find the evenings entertainment. I know it may sound like I do the same thing every day, and that's because for the most part I do, but I don't mind. I rather like the routine, and whenever I feel like venturing out into the real world I have enough friends to find something interesting to do. That's what's good about golf, no matter how much you try, if you play on a course regularly enough you make more friends than you can remember.

As I bit into my hot dog, I flipped through the channels and found that the local news was on. I'm usually not one for watching the news as it never leaves me in a good mood, but I figured what the hell and left it on as I went about eating my dinner. The good thing about local news is that for every story about the war or someone dying, there were three stories about a puppy parade or the girl scouts holding a pancake breakfast to make people feel good about themselves.

"...all in all, the scouts were able to raise over $1,200 for their yearly camping excursion, congratulations girls." The talking head on the television said. Then, the anchor did something peculiar. She put her hand to her ear, and a frown spread across her face. "We have a breaking news story, it appears that two armed men walked into the Twin Valley Credit Union less than an hour ago and made off with close to $20,000 in cash. We have also learned that a teller has been shot in the process of the robbery, but word on her condition is not available as of now. The police want us to inform you that these armed men were last seen in a blue Honda Civic headed southbound on Route 17, and that they are considered armed and very dangerous. If possible stay off of Route 17." I was in the middle of putting another hot dog in my mouth when I recognized that that was the road that was right outside my range.

No sooner then I made that realization, I heard the sound of sirens off in the distance. I got up, hot dog still in hand, and looked out the window towards the road. Within seconds, off in the distance I saw three state police cruisers speeding northbound on 17.