Schifflebein's Folly

CHAPTER 8: THE GOLFER

It was not yet mid-morning, but the relentless Florida sun was baking the grass of Garcia-Katz Park in its glare. On his knees, Lloyd ignored the heat and focused on holding a wooden stake firmly upright, its pointed end pressed against the ground. He handed a hammer to Rudy and maintained a hold on the stake.

Rudy found the head of the stake with one hand and raised the hammer with the other. Lloyd cringed as Rudy pounded the stake into the dirt. As soon as Lloyd felt the stake could stand alone, he yanked his hand out of harm's way. Rudy kept pounding.

"That's good," said Lloyd. "That's great. Stop. Stop now. Now. Stop now. That's good. Good work."

Finally Rudy stopped, proud of himself. Lloyd, still kneeling beside the child, gave the boy a hug and a kiss.

Then Lloyd called loudly, "Okay, Ray! Send her down!"

Several yards away, Ray squatted beside another stake in the ground. To his stake was tied a stout string. The string led to a reel held by Nguyen. At Lloyd's call, Ray signaled Nguyen, and she began walking from Ray's stake to Rudy's, reeling out string as she went.

Lloyd watched Nguyen, Nguyen watched her reel of string, and out of the sky a golf ball plunked into the dirt behind her, narrowly missing the oblivious child. Lloyd's head jerked up, looking for the source of the ball. He saw a man teeing up a hundred yards away.

Lloyd was already moving toward Nguyen when the distant golfer took another swing.

"Nguyen!" Lloyd shouted, but the tiny girl heard nothing and saw nothing other than her precious reel of string.

She was unaware of any danger until Lloyd, with a flying leap, grabbed her while turning his back to the incoming missile. With a whack the golf ball banged hard into Lloyd's shoulder, spinning him around.

Nguyen screamed. Lloyd groaned and twisted as they fell so that when they hit the ground, he landed on the bottom, cushioning the child's impact.

From all directions of the playground, five children ran toward them, calling out in alarm. Lloyd hurried painfully to his feet, cradling a frightened, crying Nguyen in his arms. He waved the other children away.

"We're okay! Get back! Get way back! Lucy, take your sister to the van, please." Lloyd gently placed Nguyen on her feet and pushed her toward Lucy, who moved forward to take her away.

"Y'all go to the van and get a drink out of the cooler. Stay there 'til I come for you. Scoot!"

The children took one look at the angry face Lloyd turned toward the distant stranger, and they ran for the Tea Party Custom Playgrounds van in the parking lot.

Lloyd stalked toward the unsuspecting golfer.

Dr. Arthur Frankel may have been unsuspecting, but he was far from innocent. He could see other people in the park, yet not for a moment did he consider altering his personal plans to hurl stone-hard spheres in their direction at the greatest speed he could muster.

Until this pivotal day in his life, Arthur Frankel had always done exactly as he pleased, when he pleased, and where he pleased. Today, however, Arthur Frankel would confront a beast few men had seen and none had forgotten: Lloyd Schifflebein's version of The Incredible Hulk.

Dr. Frankel teed up his third ball, unaware an eighth of a ton of barely restrained rage was stomping toward him. He froze when he heard a shout like the crack of doom.

"Sir! Excuse me! Sir! Wait, please!" Lloyd's stentorian tone belied his polite vocabulary.

Frankel looked toward the voice and saw a stevedore-like person wearing old jeans and a sleeveless sweatshirt. Massive, muscular arms swung from the stranger's wide shoulders.

Frankel felt the beginnings of fear but disregarded it when he read the front of the sweatshirt:

"I  💝Bunnies."

Hesitating only a second, Frankel looked down again and calmly addressed his ball. He began his backswing, but stopped because Lloyd now stood solidly in front of the tee.

"I said, please wait," Lloyd growled.

"I heard you. Now move, before someone gets hurt."

"Someone already has," said Lloyd, pointing across the land behind him. "There are children playing over there."

Frankel had to lift himself briefly onto his toes to see over Lloyd's shoulder. The doctor spared only a casual glance toward the indicated area.

"Not any more," Frankel said, unconcerned.

"No," said Lloyd, "because I sent them to the car so they wouldn't get hit."

"Wise precaution. Now, if you would take the same precaution yourself...," Frankel left the statement unfinished and once more started his backswing. His eyes widened in surprised disbelief when the club disappeared from his hands. He looked up to see it now in Lloyd's grasp. The club looked small and fragile in Lloyd's hands.

"Please, sir. For the safety of the children."

"What are children doing here anyway?" Frankel's tone grew strident. "They can't live around here." He waved an arm to indicate the surrounding neighborhood.

"They're with me," said Lloyd unapologetically. "This is a Miami-Dade County park. We're residents of Miami-Dade County."

"Fine," said Frankel, as if making a sacrifice to allow such people the use of his neighborhood's public land. "For the children's safety I'll call 'fore' before I swing, so they can move."

Lloyd grasped the golf club at both ends as if he would snap it in two. Cords of muscle in his arms, shoulders, and neck tensed as he resisted that impulse. Through gritted teeth, he forced himself to speak softly. "I'm afraid that won't work. My daughter is deaf."

Frankel resorted to his Outside Voice. "Look, Bunny Boy! I live in this neighborhood, I pay my taxes, and I've been hitting balls in this park for years! I'm not leaving!"

Lloyd shifted the club to one hand.

Frankel cringed, expecting a blow, but Lloyd only pointed with the club.

"I'm not suggesting you leave. But could you just hit your balls in that direction instead." Then Lloyd added as an afterthought, "Please."

Frankel spun to look in the direction the club was pointing – the opposite direction from where the children would be. "But my car is parked over there!" he protested.

Lloyd actually smiled. "Oh, come on, that car's three hundred yards away. You're not gonna hit it." He handed Frankel the golf club and began walking away. "If you hit that car, I'll buy you a brand new one exactly like it."

Frankel took pride in his limited-edition European roadster with its six-figure price tag. The nerve of this yokel's thinking he could replace such a work of art even if he had the money, which the oaf most assuredly did not.

"Buy me another one?" Frankel challenged. "You obviously didn't get a good look at that car!"

Lloyd stopped walking and turned back to face Frankel. Softly Lloyd said, with a grin, "No, but I got a real good look at your swing."

Turning away and resuming his walk, Lloyd shouted toward the van, "C'mon back, kids. We've got work to do!"

Frankel watched Lloyd's back then eyed the stream of kids emerging from a van bearing a Tea Party Custom Playgrounds logo. Quickly the facts fell into place, and Frankel's eyes narrowed. He called after Lloyd, "I know who you are, Shiftlesstime!"

Lloyd neither turned nor slowed but shouted back, "I know you, too; I just don't know your name."

Frankel muttered beneath his breath, "You won't be so cocky when I'm through with you, Father Goose."