Birdies and Bogeys

The brothers of Sigma Alpha Epsilon cheered for Masie when she dropped an easy putt for par. Josh was playing worse than usual and bogeyed, then Ben got his par, and everyone watched Marty take his birdie shot. When it sank, Masie smiled and said, “You have until we get to the next tee to come up with a dare for Josh,” before taking off for the par three third, leaving Josh and Marty to deal with the fraternity brothers.

"You're a pretty smooth operator, kid. I like it." Ben opened a fresh beer and passed it to her before opening one for himself. "By the way, what did you say to Marty back on one? He came down that fairway like a scalded cat."

"I'll never tell," Masie replied. "The real question is what will his dare be? Did you know him when he was young? I can't help thinking that he was probably forty years old when he was born and well into his fifties when he was a teenager. I've seen pictures of him with a duck's ass haircut and leather jacket, but it looked like a costume on him, and I think that was standard issue back then.”

Ben laughed and said, “Believe it or not, Marty was a hellraiser in his day. He might surprise you with his dare.” Looking out in the distance, he continued, “Something about this island takes the years away, brings us all back to ourselves.”

“Yeah, that’s the ocean, not this island. Even the concentrated effort to keep the modern world out failed—we’re on a golf course on the island, inside a resort with condos. Everyone’s just clinging to their youth with the same people here, creating some weird collective nostalgia that seems to be arm wrestling with the here and now.” Masie took a long swig of her beer.

Ben was eyeing her thoughtfully when Josh and Marty pulled up with what looked like the entire Carolina chapter of SAE behind them.

“No way in hell they’re playing through,” he mused.

Marty shrugged at Ben as he ambled over from the cart. “The brothers of Sigma Alpha Epsilon are curious about the “Truth or Dare Front Nine Invitational,” or “TDFinny,” as they’re now calling it, and they sent a pledge back to the clubhouse with their clubs. They’re now our gallery.”

Josh joined them and said, “Okay, Marty. I’m hoping you’ll forget some of those dare suggestions your fraternity brothers made.”

“Naked par three!” All eyes were on Masie as the chorus rose from the SAEs.

She rolled her eyes and replied, “I don’t take dares—I make them, and I seriously doubt y’all want to watch the three of them play in the nude. I certainly don’t.”

Appreciative laughter rumbled through the fraternity, and Masie gave them a quick curtsy before approaching the tee.

“Alright, Josh,” Marty began, “empty your golf bag. Let’s see what you hide in there.”

Josh and Masie both exclaimed, “What?!”

Masie continued, “Have you lost your mind, Marty? We’ll be her all damn day cleaning up that mess. Anyway, that’s lame.”

“Fine,” Marty responded, color rising in his face. “I dare you to do that dance you and your groomsmen did at your wedding reception.”

“I need music,” Josh replied, looking relieved.

“Gotcha covered,” Marty answered and held up his phone. He tapped a few times, then the opening notes of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” had everyone laughing before Josh began his over-the-top routine.

When the applause and catcalls died down, Masie faced the gallery of young men and said, “Who wants to caddie for me?”

Every hand went in the air, and Masie looked them all over, finally saying, “My bag is in the cart. Everyone grab a club. Whoever has the one I’m using on this tee gets to be my caddie.” There was a foot race to the cart and lots of jostling for the clubs. Someone even had her putter.

Masie pulled her ballcap off, then rethreaded her hair through the back before she approached the tee. “Okay, whoever has the eight iron, step right up.” Looking over at Ben, she said, “I believe you said something about making it more interesting for a hole in one? You have until we get to the green to think of something. I’m hitting the pin.”

When the guys started murmuring how unlikely that sounded, Josh turned to them and said, “You don’t understand. The minute she heard the word “invitational,” she went in tournament mode. Get ready to have your minds blown.”

Masie licked her finger and held it over her head, paused for a moment, then got in position with perfect form. The eight iron sailed backward before returning to thwack the ball into a long, high arc so impressive that the gallery applauded while Masie held her form in the follow through. A few seconds later, they heard the unmistakable sound of the ball hitting the pole and dropping in the cup. Masie curtsied again, then sat down in the cart, put her feet on the dash, and picked up her beer while her caddie put her rented eight iron back in the bag.

Marty looked at her for a long minute, then said, “You were supposed to go to Duke on a golf scholarship, but—“

“But my grandmother and mother died, and I didn’t go. I went to Europe instead.” Masie cut him off and finished her beer. “Does anyone have a bottle of water? I need to lay off the brews to bring my A game.”

When they got to the green, there were three balls at varying distances from the cup, and one in it.