“I can always count on you for an opinion,” J Dub said
with a smile. He headed for the front door. After opening it he
looked to the parking lot and saw a huge black lady walking
with a teenage boy. A middle-aged Caucasian woman walked
alongside a smaller girl. “Good morning,” the head pro yelled.
“You must be Aieshia.” As they got closer he asked, “Did I say
it right?”
“Yo’ did good fo’ a first-timer,” the young black woman
said. A robust smile spread across her rotund face. Standing
five foot ten Aieshia looked formidable. Dressed in blue jeans
and a sweatshirt she must have weighed close to three hundred
pounds.
“What sport did you play?” J Dub wondered out loud.
“Sof’ball,” Aieshia replied.
“You don’t look like the right sex for football.”
Aieshia stuck her hand out for J Dub to shake. “But don’t
yo’ tink dat I dint kick some boys’ butts on da streets back
home.” J Dub winced as her grip tightened around his hand.
“Where would that be?”
“Arkansas.”
“I imagine you could hit some home runs.” J Dub took
a deep breath and let out some air. “Who is your friend?” He
looked at the teenage boy that appeared to be large for his age.
“This is Pabby,” Aieshia said. The boy appeared shy. His
shoulders were slumped and his neck craned forward. He
looked down and then raised his chin ever so slightly to peer
out of the top of his eyes. “Go ahead an’ shake his hand.”
“Are you my buddy?”
The comment caught J Dub by surprise. “Why, of course.
Nice to meet you, Pabby.” The boy broke into an infectious
smile

p. 49

“It was that real wealthy guy,” Uncle Woo said as the
thought was within his grasp.
“That’s right, Pops. Tell the guys who we’re going to eat
lunch with today.”
Just as quickly as the thought came to him, it left. The old
man clenched his fists and then pounded them together. It was
sad to witness the frustration. “He’s that guy that’s building the
skyscraper right outside my window.”
“That’s right,” Pork Chop prompted his dad. “Tell them
who it is. Where did he fly in from?”
“New York.”
“You got it, Pops. What does he do in New York?”
The elderly man winced again as he tried to remember.
He glanced over to the television set that was showing a replay
of the baseball game the night before. “That’s who it is,” Uncle
Woo said matter-of-factly.
“Who?” Fred asked. He had gotten up from his normal
spot to throw a banana peel in the trash.
“It’s the guy that owns the New York Yankees,” Uncle
Woo said as Pork Chop wore a smug grin.
“Tell them where we are going to go to lunch.”
The old man looked confused again. “I don’t remember.”
The memory loss annoyed him. “But I do know that he said he
would pick us up in his helicopter.”
“When did you talk with him?” Captain Jer asked.
“Oh, every day,” Uncle Woo explained. “He’s out there at
dawn with a hard hat on watching the crane pick things up and
move them to the top of the skyscraper.”
“See what you have to look forward to, Pork Chop,”
Captain Jer said in a hushed tone to his golfing buddy.
“And what you don’t know is that after several beers
you’ve got memory loss too,” Julie said as she placed a blueberry
muffin in front of BT.

p.70

“What was all the commotion out there?” Fred asked as
the guys filed through the door after loading their clubs into the
trunks of their cars.
Pork Chop had already taken Uncle Woo back to the
retirement center. Pabby and Shae were long gone. Aieshia
and Carla had loaded them into the van and driven back to the
children’s home.
Solemn looks covered the faces of J Dub, Julie and
BowTye. The mood in the clubhouse made it seem like the guys
had entered a funeral parlor and were attending a wake. “Did
someone die?” Elia asked. He went over his heavy beard with
an electric razor to trim the stubble that appeared to grow as
fast as a weed. After going over his cheek he lifted his left hand
to feel the smooth result.
“No, nothing like that happened,” J Dub answered, “but
you have to be concerned whenever anyone gets hurt.”
“Dat happen befo’ hasn’t it?” YouWho asked. His long
straight bangs covered his brow as he took off his black rimmed
glasses and cleaned the lenses with a napkin.
“Well sure,” J Dub replied. “We’ve had a lot of guys go
down with heart attacks. You didn’t know them but Rollie and
Easy Earl went that way. Then it seems like three or four people
get hit by a ball every year. This time one of the carts got flipped
and a guy was thrown out”
“You got in-shur-once?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Den dat be no pwob-lim.”

p. 88

Crash put the glasses back on and rolled his chair over to a
file cabinet. He slid open a drawer and searched for the Prairie
Winds Golf Course file. After locating it he yanked it from the
drawer and wheeled back over to the center of his desk.
Even though Crash wrote a lot of insurance he wasn’t all
that familiar with the particulars of the golf course insurance
policy. He thumbed through the various pages. “Let’s see here.
You’ve got all-risk property coverage against earthquake, wind
or flood that covers the clubhouse and pro shop, maintenance
buildings, equipment, ball washers, signs, walkways, cart paths
and bridges…yada, yada, yada.”
Crash flipped the page. “The golf course itself is covered
for damages as well.”
“What items?”
“The greens, tees, rough, fairways, sprinkler system, trees,
plants, bunkers and things like that.”
“Okay. That’s good.”
“You’re covered for loss of business income if the occasion
arises as well as if there is an ordinance change that affects your
business. The equipment, cars, trucks, tractors, mowers, golf
carts—they are all covered for theft or breakdown.”
“That’s all nice to know. We haven’t gotten to what we
need to find out yet.”
Crash flipped another page. “Here we go. Liability
insurance. General liability, auto liability, environmental
liability.”
“In case we have some chemicals get in the creek and
people complain?”
“Sure.” Crash answered without looking up. He kept
reading. “Employee benefits liability, liquor liability, and
professional liability.”
“Good, good, good,” Curt agreed. “What does it say about
personal injury liability or whatever this lawsuit is about?”

p. 136

Doc, J Dub, the two kids and their aides, Captain Jer, Trot,
Scottie P and Paul made it to the chain link fence just as the
field paraded by. “That’s the one,” Pabby said as TinManLives
walked by. It was a hazel-colored horse with an orange number
5. The jockey wore a silk jersey with orange and black checks as
well as an orange cap.
“Pew!” Shae yelled. The smell of the horses, the droppings
and dirt track permeated the air. There were ten horses in all.
“Do you remember how long this race is?” Doc asked.
Pabby was intent. He nodded his head. “Six furlongs.”
“That’s right. They will walk around the first curve,” he
pointed to his right, “and when they get to the back stretch the
jockey will make them run a little to warm up.” He pointed to
the far right. “Do you see the starting gate?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s what they will get in before the race. Once they’re
all there the bell will ring, the track announcer will yell ‘They’re
off!’ and we’ll watch them run down the back stretch.” He
pointed to the far left. “They will come around that curve and
finish right in front of us.”
Pabby rubbed his hands together. “Neat! I can’t wait.”
“If you have a hard time seeing,” J Dub said, “the track has
put up a big television screen on the tote board.” He pointed
across the track to the infield.
“What’s that?”
“A television screen?”
“No, a tote board?”
“That’s the electronic board with all the numbers on it.
The track updates it every minute to keep the public informed
on who is betting on what horse.”
Pabby furrowed his brow. “It has an eight by the number
five.”
“That means the horse that we like is an eight to one
favorite to win the race,” Doc said.

p. 205

He studied Pudge for a reaction. The attorney was
busy digging into a folder. “You kind of fall in that category,
you know.”
“I’m here to help you.”
“Then let’s see what kind of progress you’ve made.”
“Not much.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“The court denied our request for a change of venue.”
“Not surprising.”
“Judge Porter denied our motion to dismiss.”
“That was expected.”
Pudge fumbled through some documents. “Oh, I almost
forgot. The judge also ruled that he does not have a conflict of
interest. The suit will stay in his court and be heard by him.”
“So we want this nuisance lawsuit to go away and we’re
already 0-for-3.”
“Well I wouldn’t exactly look at it that…”
“How else can I look at it? That’s like saying I would have
been three under par standing on the fourth tee if the twelvefooter
on one would have gone in and the six-footer on two
and the twenty-foot putt on three. But instead I’m even par still
scrambling to keep a good round going.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“No, don’t misunderstand. That’s the only way I’m looking
at it. I want this frivolous lawsuit to go away and I’m already
spending way more money on this crap than I wanted to.”
“We can always settle.”
“I saw their request. It’s asinine and this thing shouldn’t
even be in court. The demands are ridiculous.”
“So we fight.”
“I’m a peaceful guy that’s minding my own business. I
don’t want the hassle.”
“I understand.”
“Look, this will get us nowhere. You know where I stand.”

p. 317

“Pabby. That’s enough.” J Dub placed his hand on the
teen’s head and looked back at DeWitt. “He’s our resident
expert on animals. He can tell you everything possible on every
species in the world.” J Dub shook his hand on top of Pabby’s
head and smiled. “By the way DeWitt, this is Pabby.”
“Are you my buddy?” Pabby asked and smiled hopefully.
The elder man extended his hand. “You bet I am.” They
shook. “And after our little hunting trip we’ll be better friends.”
The guys headed to the vehicles. “You guys get in with
me. T-Berry has the dogs. He can follow.” DeWitt and J Dub
climbed in the driver’s side. Pabby and Doc walked around to
the passenger side.
The second Doc opened the rear door for Pabby the teen
screamed. “No! No! No!” Four falcons sat on a perch behind the
back seat. Each wore hoods.
“They won’t hurt you,” DeWitt said. The birds were
tethered, a cord held them on their carpeted stand.
“No. I’m not going in there.” The men looked at each other.
“How about if I get in the back seat and you ride up front?”
Doc proposed.
Pabby took a second to think and then agreed. “That’s
better.” He remained apprehensive. “They won’t fly toward
me?”
“Not at all. They are tied down and won’t leave their
spot,” DeWitt explained. With that minor detail worked out
Pabby climbed into the front seat. He nervously kept looking
over his shoulder toward the birds as DeWitt started the car.
“Where are we going?” J Dub asked from the back seat.
“We’ll go down to a couple of farm fields on the bottom.
We can flush some ducks out of the drainage ditches between
the river and the bluffs.”
“Ducks are aquatic birds that . . .”
“Pabby! That’s fine. We know what they are.”

p. 358

“I’ll make it up to them, you know, take them to Florida
or something.”
“That’s not what they want, Tanner! They want their dad
to be in the stands for a playoff game.”
“You’ll have to tell them I’m sorry.”
“Why can’t you go up there and come back in time for the
faceoff?”
“It’s a two-day thing. The first part is later this afternoon
and we have to stay overnight to wrap the process up tomorrow
morning.”
“It doesn’t do me any good to give you my two cents, does
it?”
“I’m afraid not, Hon. This is business and it concerns
my license to operate in the state of Illinois.” Tanner winced,
clenched his jaw, looked at the ceiling and held the receiver
six inches from his ear. Silence followed. “I knew you’d
understand.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Wish the boys well for me and give the girls my love.”
Tanner only felt half bad. He had something else occupying his
mind. “Look, I’m running late. I’ve got to go.”
Click. Janet’s reply was evident.
“Abbie, I’ll be in sometime tomorrow. It’s the Springfield
Q and A. Hold my calls.” With that the lawyer was out the door
and into his black BMW.
He wasn’t two blocks down the street when he texted a
message from his mobile phone.
Kitty, we still on for tonight?

p. 424

Besides the darkness one of the first things that the
foursome noticed was the silence. They had to be quiet. The
group realized immediately that if they talked in a normal tone
their voice traveled and an echo returned. Quickly they learned
to utilize hand signals and quaint whispers.
J Dub shined his flashlight against a wall fifty or sixty feet
away. Stud followed suit. Multi-colored stalactites in various
shades of orange, red and yellow presented themselves.
“They’re beautiful,” Julie whispered.
Jutting from the floor under the stalactites were hundreds
of stalagmites formed by drops of mineralized water that had
found their destination. A few of the formations had met and
created an impressive column. Four flashlights shined around
the cavern from one stellar formation to the next, when J Dub
called them back to task. “We can’t admire too much. We’ve got
to get moving.”
The foursome hugged the wall. J Dub’s headlamp
registered on DeWitt’s map. Every few steps he had to duck
under a low ceiling. At the first fork they stayed to the left. The
same held true at the second junction. All were forced to balance
themselves on a narrow rock bridge when the next decision
needed to be made. “The map says to stay to the right. Hold
hands for balance.” J Dub shined his flashlight on the bridge.
A rock was accidentally kicked and splashed into water below.
“You didn’t tell me we were crossing water,” Julie said
nervously.
“Be careful.”
The path turned. Morgan and Stud followed closely. The
damp conditions and musty smell added to the mystique. J
Dub continued in the lead, his headlamp lighting the way while
Stud helped the girls by shining his flashlight on the rock floor.
A salamander slithered quickly in front of Julie. She jumped
and let out an anxious yelp.