Chapter 19

Monday started out clear, but it looked like it might rain later. I was able to do my exercises and get in my run. I wondered how much longer I could do this. It was still September and I should be able to run till Thanksgiving. That did make me think, how was I to practice golf all winter? I needed to talk to Mr. Collins about what could be done.

Again when I started out to school no one was there. I didn’t even see Eleanor. The best description of Monday is that I just went through the motions. At lunch, I didn’t want to cause problems or embarrassment, so I sat at a table by myself. Even the delinquent’s left me alone.

On the previous Friday, we had several exams. They were returned in class. I had straight A’s going, so something was working right. It was like I was invisible, last week everyone wanted to know me, now no one would speak to me.

They weren’t rude, they would say excuse me or thank you if I did something for them but it was like I didn’t exist. I was glad when school let out.

I boarded a school bus with the other members of the golf team. There were four of them, John Scott a senior, Gary Matthews a junior, Tim Green a junior, and Phil Thompson a sophomore. Phil was the boy that was moving. He was the fourth man. That was a polite way of saying he was the fourth-best golfer on the team.

The guys asked what my handicap was. I told them I had no idea since I had only played one round in my life. I explained that I had an eighty-two last Sunday at the country club playing with Coach Stone and Mr. Collins.

Phil actually was the one that got excited, “I am doing good to shoot a ninety-two out there. You will really help the team.”

Coach Stone was already at the club, we spent the day practicing our putting.

Later at dinner, I told my parents about my day’s experience. They had no answers other than to be patient. I did tell them that the guys on the golf team treated me well.

I started reading a new book that evening, it was some old guy talking about shadows on the wall and trying to decide, “What is truth.”

Actually, it was pretty interesting.

Tuesday was more of the same. Golf practice was more putting. I got the impression that Coach thought this was the most important part of the game.

Tuesday evening was better. Mr. Weaver stopped by the house to drop off a new story he had written. It was about how our family had changed and reacted to my summer vacation. He also wrote about the high school assembly where I explained that I wasn’t a hero, it was people like Bill Samson who landed on Omaha Beach who were the real heroes.

He was funny when describing my singing experience. My down to earth interaction with people like Elvis and John Wayne impressed him, by the fact that I didn’t let it go to my head. Capturing the rustlers was what any red-blooded American boy would do if he didn’t realize the inherent dangers.

My family having the cookouts to answer all the questions impressed him to no end. He even described Mary answering the phone. About the only thing left out was Mum’s broom. I wonder why?

He presented us as an ordinary family thrown into some extraordinary events. Reading his logical presentation of events, I and my family hadn’t any choice in how we reacted. Needless to say, we all liked the story and told him that we would confirm everything he had written if asked.

He could have left out the part where none of the girls rushed the stage to date a rock and roll star.

Mr. Weaver then told us it was going to run in the Examiner on Thursday, they would build it up in Wednesday’s edition, to try to increase Thursday’s circulation. Thursday was the day all the weekend ad’s appeared. They were paid for ads on a sliding scale. The more papers they sold the more they were paid.

Wednesday was more of the same at school. I was glad to get it over with. Golf practice was more interesting because we spent time on the driving range. No one else could hit the ball past the two hundred and twenty-five-yard marker. I was now booming them out close to three hundred yards. Now I could understand why the adults were impressed last weekend.

Thursday was just another day of walking to school alone and having empty chairs next to me in the cafeteria. I tried not to think about it because I felt lonely, rejected, and just plain mad at it all.