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by Greggory Moore | 02 Nov 2007, 16:54
"Let's cut through the golf course," Mitch suggested. "I don't wanna go all the way around."
"We'll get hassled again, man," Abe replied. "Those fucking tight-asses. I don't wanna deal with it."
"Oh, come on," Debra chirped, following Mitch as he jogged ahead a few steps.
"But ... fuck, I don't wanna get hit by a golf ball. We almost got beaned the last time."
"No one's golfing right now," Mitch rejoined, spinning around. "It's gonna start pouring." He gestured at the dark gray of the sky with a swoop of his right arm. "It's fucking drizzling already. No one's playing golf today." He went up to the wall of ivy and pulled up a thick sheet of it, revealing a hole in the chain-link fence between the sidewalk and a fringe of the course. Debra slipped though, and Mitch waited on Abe as if he were holding open a door. "Coming?"
Abe rolled his eyes, muttered "Fuck," then ducked through. Mitch swung himself through the opening and let the ivy fall back into place with a couple of small bounces.
All three of the teenagers were clad in black trench coats, and they could hardly have been more conspicuous as they jogged across the greens and fairways. They frolicsomely crested gentle hills and descended into miniature valleys, jockeying each other and laughing. There was not a golfer to be seen.
About halfway across they reached a long incline and slowed to a walk. When it suddenly plateaued, Mitch jumped and rolled onto the short, even grass. "Whooo! I'm a rock-and-roller! Whooo!"
"What are you doing," Abe asked dubiously.
"I'm rocking and rolling! Whooo! Hey," he said, eyeing a range ball about 50 feet away. He stood up and jogged to get it, diving on it when he got there. He rolled over to one knee. "Go out for a pass," he motioned to Abe, who didn't move. He cocked his right arm back and beckoned for Abe to run. "Go long." Abe finally obliged, and Mitch gently lobbed the ball in front of him. "Dive!"
Abe half-dove, the dimpled globe bounced gently off a forearm. He rolled over and over demonstratively. Debra laughed with glee. A deafening crack sharply echoed from everywhere. For a long moment Abe and Mitch could see absolutely nothing. Finally they regained their equilibrium, as if a prodigious head rush had passed. Their ears were ringing, and both were stiff with tension and adrenaline.
"What the fuck was that," Mitch yelled. "Holy shit!"
"Holy fuck," Abe called. "Holy motherfucking fuck!"
"What happened," Mitch asked, still yelling.
"Holy fucking shit," Abe answered. Abe and Mitch looked at each other, then at Debra.
She stood unmoving, completely dazed. Her earrings were gone, and a wisp of smoke sedately rose from somewhere in her hair. Her companions realized simultaneously what had happened. Both jumped to their feet, calling her name and running towards her. When they reached her, they stopped short and looked her up and down, inclined to touch her but balking.
"Debra," Mitch said urgently, "Debra! Debra! Are you okay?"
"Debra, are you okay? Can you hear me?"
"Debra!" Mitch jabbed at her arm. She looked at him absently.
"Hey, Debra, are you okay?" Abe grabbed her elbow, and slowly she turned her gaze to him.
"Debra, hey. Debra. Say something!"
"Whoaaaaaa," she said.
"Debra, are you okay?"
"Fuuuuuuuuuck," she replied, smiling in amazement. "Oh my God, dude. Fuck."
"Are you okay," Abe asked. Mitch began to laugh. "What are you laughing at, you idiot?"
"Fuuuuck," Debra said with a nervous titter. Mitch was now laughing in fits. "Dude, I got hit by lightning."
"Jesus Christ," Abe stammered, "Jesus Christ."
"WHOO," Mitch screamed, "WHOOOOOO-HOO!" He took Debra by the hand, and they bounded towards the clubhouse, Abe following their lead. The rain began to come down hard, and they screamed and ran and laughed.
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