Irene Plax and Margot Eyring

Margot Eyring

Inspiration piece

Irene Plax

Rich is at the eighth hole when his cell phone rings. He procures it from the pocket of his khakis.

Tee off was at nine, same time as her appointment. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out”, she had said, and he didn’t feel so bad about not being there. Besides, he liked to golf with Carter, a stoic older guy, even though it meant losing. Carter exemplified sportsmanship characteristic of an older generation, and rarely reacted to a bad shot.

Rich answers his phone. “Hi,” he says.

Rich nods. “Great,” he says. “Great. I will be home by noon. You too.”

He puts his phone away and taps the ground with his 3-iron.

“It’s a girl,” he tells Carter.

“Congratulations, Sir,” Carter replies.

Rich nods again. He marvels at this situation he’s created. He feels slightly panicked as he becomes aware of the empty space between him and everything else. The grass aroma is really strong. He has no choice but to experience it.

“I’m scared, Carter.”

Carter nods. “That’s par for the course.”

Both men gaze at the green ahead of them. They are standing at the base of a small hill from where the freshly cut grass appears to sprawl forever.

“Ready for the next hole?” asks Carter.

Rich nods. As the two men advance, their nostrils carry the smell of life.