Forlot: The Only Golf Course - Book Sixty-Eight

Chapter Eight

I waited impatiently for almost five minutes after Anais and Frida said their goodbyes and strode out with their full golf bags. Anais asked if I would be alright. She and Frida hate leaving me with my attention-seeking sister, especially when she was the only other person at home, like this instant. I patted their shoulders and reassured them that I would be great as long as Lizzy remained in her lane. The truth is that I did not even feel fine. I lied to not worry them, but I think that I worried them even more. I would not feel terrific until I was far away from my devilish sister. Or she packed and ran off.

I quietly speed-walked past Liz's room and into mine. I gripped my green golf bag on the ground in front of my closet and swung it on my shoulder. "Good thing that I did not put away my golf essentials," I said. "My stupid sister would have definitely heard me sliding the closet door open and shut. Curse her excellent hearing."

I scurried back into the hall and to the front door to my freedom. Lizzy may have superb hearing, but when she is busy scheming plans to sabotage me and paint Anais and Frida in a terrible light, her five senses switch off. I can stroll or quietly hurry past her many times without the soft patters of my footsteps snapping her out of her trance. I can be rifling around inside the same room or standing near her, and she would be oblivious until I or someone else or something made an ear-piercing noise or she finished scheming.

I have yet to see any of her schemes. Only dull hobbies. But one day when our house is deserted, I will sneak in her room and find her twisted schemes. My friends and I will foil her plans. Izzy, why do you think that Lizzy is plotting against you and your friends, you ask? Are you familiar with or have you ever felt that off feeling going up and down inside you as if it is riding a rollercoaster? That uneasy feeling trying to warn you that you are not safe. One or more people in your proximity are waiting to get you. Get out of there. If they try talking to you or begin following you, ask a passerby for help. Better yet, a police officer if one is present. If you are totally alone with the creeps, call 911. In Forlot, call 777.

And the Karens and the woke said that this book series is not educational.

The hinges squeaked softly as I slowly opened the front door just enough to shove through. I stumbled onto the stoop and closed the door behind me. I jumped off said stoop and jogged down the sidewalk all the way back to the golf course. Why are you returning to that very area where you, your friends, and your sister were attacked? By some unidentified monster. The disgusting monster could not be as vicious as the one at home. I would risk it. The way that I saw it, if that monster devoured me, I no longer had to tiptoe around Lizzy. I would be as free as a bird. Be in golf heaven. Oh, yeah. But then, I could not help expose Liz for the heinous being that she tried keeping under wraps since that she discovered evil at a young age. Frida and Anais could not expose her alone.

Monster or no monster. I was going golfing. If it leaped out of the woods and came charging at me, I would use my clubs to beat it until it whined and vanished back in said woods.

After running a marathon - it felt like it - I arrived back to the enormous, breathtaking golf course. Holding my bag's straps, I sprinted towards the start of Hole One - and saw that I was not the only person here. Somebody was about to hit his or her first shot on Hole One. I was eager about not being the only golfer in town. I decided to make my presence known after this person made his or her shot. I did not want to mess him or her up. As an experienced golfer, I know the agony of ruining shots. I stood inches away and watched.

The golfer held up the driver behind him or her and hit the ball out of the park. Or in our case, this golf course. The golfer turned, his or her side facing me now. He or she shielded the eyes as we watched the ball fly into the air and bounce three times and roll in the middle of the fairway. I could now decipher that the golfer was a boy. A boy around my age.

If the monster showed, I would not be fighting it alone. Unless that the boy was actually a coward.

I approached him, grinning and brushing my hair away from my face. "Superb shot. Almost as nice as all of my own."

He jumped a little and turned around. "Hey, you nearly scared me to death. My spirit was halfway out from my body."

"Sorry. I do not think that there was another way that I could have approached you without startling you."

"Maybe you are right. Maybe not. But thank you for the compliment."

"Whenever another golfer makes a perfect shot or putt, I never shy away from complimenting it."

He put his driver in his bag. "Judging by your bag...and the fact that you are here, you must also be a golfer."

"Pro golfer. Guilty as charged. I have been golfing since that I was a baby."

"Really. When you were only a defenseless baby?"

"Well, it was mini-golf. But that is still golf. My parents took me and..." I decided against mentioning my sister. "...and I immediately fell in love with golf."