Once Upon a Time

Here is what we have to work with:

Character Names:
Braiden
Habib

Plot Suggestions:
Habib teaching young Braiden to play golf

Subplot options:
Clubs that break without hitting anything
Losing clubs in ponds

This ended up needing to be longer than I wanted to write tonight, so I’ll continue it at some point. But here is the beginning anyway.

Scratch the Manners

“You’re 2:00 lesson is here” my co-worker said teasingly. He knew I wasn’t looking forward to this lesson.

It didn’t take me long before I saw Braiden walk into the clubhouse, his father walking behind him talking on the blue tooth device that might as well be implanted within his ear.

Braiden had been raised with privilege. Unfortunately he had not been raised with manners. He watched a friend playing a Tiger Woods video game a few weeks ago and started to bug his dad to teach him how to play golf. Though his dad didn’t play golf. Don’t get me wrong, his dad, John Stradquist, owned clubs and wandered around the course swinging them at golf balls, but his demeanor showed anything but play.

I expected Braiden to be the same. I’m used to seeing young rich kids try their new activity for the week, and when it doesn’t come easy, they quit.

“Why is it they get all the best equipment?” I muttered back to Jimmy as I headed to pick up Braiden’s clubs from the locker room. “He won’t even carry them himself.”

As we made our way to the driving range, I handed Braiden his 7-iron. He took it from my hands, squeezed his hands around the shaft turning his knuckles white, and swung at the ball he had placed on the tee in front of himself.

“When do I get to hit it far? I want to use the driver!” Stated more as a demand than a question.

“It isn’t worth our time to hit that club until you can hit the one you are holding well.”

He swung again, this time, hitting the ground 3 inches behind the ball and stinging his hands with the reverb of the steel shaft.

“The ball must be too far forward, I keep hitting behind it.” Braiden said as he adjusted his stance to move the ball next to his back foot.

“That isn’t the problem we need to fix, the ball is where it should be.” I muttered, hoping he would listen, but not with much intent to care.

I expected him to be gone in a two days anyway. He didn’t seem willing to put up with the demands the game of golf has.

“Who are you to tell me what I need to work on Habib?” Scowled Braiden.

I tried my best not to show my offense at the insult he clearly intended. While I may be middle eastern decent, my name is not Habib. Though he had heard me introduce myself clearly as Enhaviv, he chose to pick this name for me instead. My name had been deemed unimportant to remember, not for the day, but forever.

The rest of the lesson continued with Braiden trying to no avail to hit the ball 200 yards with his 7-iron. He didn’t care to loosen his grip or slow down his swing, though he did allow me to correct his stance and keep him from dropping his head. He started hitting the ball a little better and seemed to be improving at enough of a pace to keep him entertained for the afternoon.

Unfortunately, this meant he would be back again tomorrow.