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amateur last
year and Burt had been third. That meant they had a lifetime access
to the qualification rounds for any amateur event in the country as
well as entry to qualifying events for either Q School for the PGA
or the new nationwide professional tour. They could even enter the
long series of qualifying rounds for the U.S. Open if they wished.
They were good. They had done much for Coach’s reputation in the
golf world, and after his golfers did well in the nationals he
would have offers from much larger schools for much larger
paychecks. Melanie was in fact a little bit of a fly in his
aspirational plans since he could neither take credit for her swing
nor for her success. He was not sure he wanted to take much credit
since her swing was so odd. She was basically uncoachable. He
reveled in the fame that she brought to the school, but tried his
best to deflect the attention to the star men golfers. He would be
driving Burt and Chad down to California himself. A parent was
driving the other female golfer from Clapshorn. To Coach’s relief,
Rebecca and Melanie were on their own.
     

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
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Part 1 - Chapter 4: California

     
    The trip was uneventful for both. Melanie
drove as usual. Rebecca felt far safer with Melanie behind the
wheel and Melanie loved to drive the luxury car and she loved to
drive it fast. Rebecca called it Melanie’s only submission to
recklessness. She had been driving the old F150 on the farm since
she was old enough to reach the pedals and like most farm kids had
a feeling for machinery and driving fast on gravel roads. They
stayed off the freeway system as much as possible, enjoying the
back road scenery and emptiness. Rebecca grew up with massed
traffic, not speed, so she was more than happy to let Melanie deal
with the open roads of the Midwest.
    Driving was a time when they talked.
    “So, do you miss playing?” Melanie asked as
they pulled off the I 15 for a parallel but quieter road.
    “I still play with you.”
    “I mean the competition. You are still
better than the other girls on the team. Coach was some ticked when
you said you were quitting just to caddy.”
    “Look. First of all, Coach gets his rewards
so don't worry about him. Secondly, don’t say “just” when you refer
to being a caddy. It’s a brutal job to have to follow someone like
you around all day, picking up your ball, carrying your clubs and
getting you dates.”
    They both laughed since they knew Melanie’s
dating life was non-existent. “Come on, be serious,” Melanie whined
as she accelerated to pass a farm truck loaded with hay. “Don't you
miss it? I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t play.”
    “Surely you realize by now, my dear, that I
am not like you. Apart from being considerably more attractive to
the opposite sex.”
    “More available you mean,” Melanie
interjected.
    “What? You don’t think boys are irresistibly
attracted to a perfectly formed Hassidic Jewish nose? And my
figure? Not like your skinny little ass! I have something that they
can get a hold of. Who can ignore my charming New Yoke accent and
personality? What’s not to like and love?”
    “Right. More available. But you aren’t
answering my question.”
    “Alright. Alright,” Rebecca turned serious.
“Unlike you Melanie, I did not choose golf. My parents chose it for
me. They both grew up relatively poor in the garment district of
New York where their fathers had started a fabric import export
operation, bringing in expensive cotton from Egypt and new
synthetics from Asia. I gather it was tough going at the start.
Understandably, the American textile industry was not keen on
competitive imports. I guess they eventually did very well and
while my grandparents never left the “district” as they called it,
they bought Mom and Dad a big home on the Island as a wedding
present. Dad took over the business. He was very good at both the
business and