Mr. Fish & Other Fantasy Tales. David Ph.D Dicaire
started to curve and landed in a small clump of trees.
“That’s more like it,” said Lockton.
Mike ignored him.
Once he was in the clump of trees searching for the ball, he looked around for the brownie.
“Beezer where are you?”
The little one appeared and smiled up at Mike. “Right here.”
“How could you let the ball land in here?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just got here. You’ve been doing it all on your own.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s true.”
“Quit playing games, Beezer.”
“Remember it’s a game of skill and patience.”
“Right. With a little help from you.”
The brownie disappeared.
At the end of the first nine holes, Mike held a one-stroke lead over Stockton and Ned Lump. There had been no sign of the arrogant brownie for the last three rounds.
Maybe I don’t need him after all?
On the eleventh hole, he continued to golf just well enough to maintain a one-stroke lead. On the green, he made a twenty-five foot putt and drained it. Just when it looked like the ball was going to move to the right and miss the hole, it curved and dropped in.
On the thirteenth hole he managed to barely avoid the water hazard. With a strong approach shot that bounced on the green and looked like it was going to overshoot it’s destiny, the ball hit the flagpole after taking a strange bounce.
Good work Beezer.
On the fifteenth hole, he worked his way out of the sand trap. The ball shot out and amid a wall of crystals and landed on the green but didn’t look like it had the momentum to make it all the way. In fact, at one point it slowed right down and was about ready to stop when it fell.
On the seventeenth hole, Lump and Lockton were breathing down his neck. They were still each a stroke behind Mike who played with a certain level of confidence.
The tee shot was a good solid hit and raced down the fairway landing in a strategic position. Both golfers hit bad shots and just when it seemed that Mike held a distinct advantage, both golfers recovered nicely. His two rivals finished with one over par for the hole after Mike two-putt and registered a double bogey. The three combatants were now tied.
On the eighteenth hole, Mike hit a towering tee shot and it landed about fifty yards from the green. The other two players followed suit with strong drives of their own.
All three chipped onto the green. But Lockton’s attempted putt curved to the left. Lump missed.
Mike stood at the hole. He was one putt away from winning the Michigan Amateur Tournament. The ball was three feet from the cup on an even surface.
Mike took a deep breath and lined it up. He hit the ball and it rolled toward the hole but at the last minute curved and shot to the right.
Lump followed and sunk his ball to take a one-stroke lead. J. R. missed and the tournament was over.
Mike shook Ned’s hand and walked off the course.
7
The sun was almost setting when Mike entered the woods. “Okay, where are you?”
Beezer appeared behind Mike.
“Here.”
Mike turned around. “I thought we had a deal?”
“We did. I helped you win a tournament.”
“You double-crossed me. You said you were going to help me win the Michigan Amateur Tournament. What happened?”
“I’m a Brownie, not a magician. We are meant to help people out not help them cheat at golf tournaments.”
“But you promised.”
“I promised to help you out. And I think I did. It wasn’t meant to be, Mick. You’re a good golfer, but not good enough.”
“All I wanted to do is win that tournament.”
“And then it would have been another and another until you won them all.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Would you have been able to live with yourself?”
Mike looked down on the ground and shook his head.
“You’re right.”
“Aye, I know it hurts. But, it’s better than living a lie.”
“You did help me out.”
“I did. No hard feelings?”
“No.”
They shook hands.
“Thank you, Beezer McLeary.”
“Ah, laddie t’was nothin’.”
“If you ever need anything you know where to find me.”
“I do.”
“I have to go now. Thanks once again.”
Mike left. He arrived at his car and pulled away.
Beezer appeared on the rooftop and smiled. “This is going to be a fun time.”
The Investigators
Desmond Bray was a very tall, thin individual who looked like he belonged on the basketball court instead of down a jungle-like path amid tall rubber plants, vine-infested trees and armies of annoying, biting insects.
He skirted on the edge of the forest walking slowly each step measured out holding a strange gadget that burped and gurgled like some crazy gizmo. Suddenly, a sharp sound blasted his eardrums and he peeled off the headphones. He looked over at his partner, Luther Gunn, who was busy eating berries from a bush.
Luther was shorter and boasted a girth that made him look like he was pregnant. He was engrossed in the bush and only his butt was sticking out. Desmond was just about to kick him in the behind when the berry eater turned around.
“Desmond you have to try one of these berries they’re delicious.” Slowly it dawned on Luther what his partner was about to do. “Hey, wait a minute, were you going to do what I think you were going to do?”
“Are we here to eat berries or make a million dollars?”
“I don’t see anything wrong with having a little snack now and again. Besides we haven’t seen anything worth photographing in hours. I’m hungry.”
“Look at you. You have juice running down your chin, your commando boots are stained and you don’t have your finger on the camera trigger. What if something popped up right now? Do you want to miss out on a million dollars for a few berries?”
“No, but they’re really good.”
“Concentrate on the work at hand. The Determinator is acting up.”
“Desmond, what came over me? You’re absolutely right. “I’m ready. Come on, let’s do this.”
Desmond turned around and started to walk away. Luther grabbed a few more berries and stuffed them in his pocket.
“I think that we are getting close. The gauge on The Determinator was starting to heat up a minute ago. It could be a fairy or troll and just like that with one picture we’re on Easy Street for the rest of our days. We’ll go out and buy our own tropical island. Right Luther? Luther?”
Desmond