can you make yourself disappear and reappear?”
“Agh, you ask a lot of questions. We brownies can do that. Now let go and give me back my soul.”
“On one condition. You help me win a golf tournament.”
“How?”
“With your ability to disappear you can guide my ball.”
“Ah, that’s cheating.”
“If you don’t, I won’t give you your soul back.”
The little figure stroked his chin and carefully calculated the situation.
“Okay. I’ll help you win one and you give me back my soul.”
“Deal. Now how do I know you won’t welch on your promise?”
“Cause we brownies are true to our word.”
“Okay, on Saturday, meet me at the Twin Oaks Golf Course at eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I’ll be there with my spurs on.”
“Great.”
Mike let Beezer go.
“Ever make a deal with a brownie?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Just askin’. See you on Saturday.”
Mike left.
4
It was a perfect day to play golf. Mike stood on the tenth hole and a crowd had gathered around him. He smiled because there had never been interest in his game before. Although the Twin Oaks Invitational was a big deal locally, it was not on the national spotlight.
Mike approached the tee and took a few practice swings before smacking the ball hard. It shot out straight and then started to curve disappearing into a small patch of trees.
“That’s more like it,” said J. R.
Suddenly the ball bounced back onto the green in line for the hole.
“That’s what I thought,” quipped Mike before standing aside for Lockton to hit the ball.
The rude player was next and hit a towering drive that threatened to hit the green, but when the ball fell it landed awkwardly then rolled down into the sand.
“That’s impossible.” Lockton took off his cap and could not believe it.
“That’s more like it,” smiled Mike.
Mike lined up his second shot and hit it too hard. The ball – which looked like it was going to bounce right past the flag – hit the flagpole, stopped abruptly, spun around, and squirted in the hole. Everyone clapped.
“That’s impossible.”
“That was an eagle,” chirped one of the other golfers.
Mike put his club away and tipped his hat at the crowd.
It took Lockton five more shots to finally sink the putt putting him seven strokes behind Mike.
They were on the fifteenth hole, a particular challenging one since the green was located on an island. A well-placed ball meant the different between par and disaster.
Mike was up first and hit the ball a little too far to the right. It plopped in the water and J. R. looked very happy. Suddenly, the ball popped out of the water like it had been shot from a cannon and rolled onto the green a few feet from the hole.
“How can that be?”
“Must of hit a log or something,” Mike assured everyone.
Lockton’s shot looked like it was going to go exactly on the green but bounced and never stopped.
“Stop, stop, stop you crazy ball.”
But the ball rolled down the hill like some unforeseen force was pushing it. It landed in the water.
“There’s something going on here,” protested J. R.
“I think that someone doesn’t like to lose.” Mike smiled.
“You’re cheating.”
“That’s a serious accusation. I could have you kicked out of the tournament for that, but I’d rather beat you fair and square.”
Mike walked away to line up his next shot.
On the eighteenth hole there was no doubt that Mike was going to win the tournament. He lined up his last putt and drained it. Everyone cheered and the tournament organizer arrived with the check and trophy.
A local reporter waved Mike over and he obliged.
“That was some fantastic shooting. How do you explain all of those seemingly impossible shots you made today?”
“I guess you could say that I was just really pumped for this tournament.”
“I see. Well congratulations on the win.”
“Thanks.”
Later that night, the whole family was gathered around the TV to watch Mike’s short interview.
“I can’t believe you won. I mean, you’ve never won a tournament before and today you beat that Lockton creep by fifteen strokes.”
“I just had it going today.”
“I guess so.”
“And the money is really going to come in handy.”
“It is. Because I won today, I’ve been invited to the Michigan Amateur Tournament. If I can win that, I might have a shot at the pros.”
“You mean the PGA tour?”
“That’s right. Green dreams, here I come.”
5
Mike entered the small patch of trees and looked around.
“Hey, Beezer, are you there?”
The brownie appeared behind him sitting on a log.
“Aye, laddie, I’m here. Did you bring my soul?”
“I did.” Mike showed the brownie his picture and then pressed the delete button.
“Agh, where did it go?”
“It’s deleted. I have a proposition for you. How would you like to help me win another tournament?”
“The deal was for only one round. Besides it’s cheating and Beezer McLeary is no
