Penny Man

Chapter 5

5

It was a beautiful property. A swan pond sat at the center of everything. They appeared as approachable, cuddly birds, then when you got to close, they chased you down like you were a felon. The hedges had been trimmed to the shapes of African animals. A lion sat in a crown with a posy of zebras at his feet.

I was nervous of meeting Uncle Jerry. It seemed I always managed to make an interaction with a new person, the most uncomfortable experience the two of us had ever gone through. It was one thing if they shook my hand and the two of us were on our way, but when the conversation went on, I would run out of material quickly. The both of us would be left standing there hoping someone else we knew would arrive and put us out of our misery.

Uncle Jerry stood at the end of the gravel path waiting for us. His arms were tucked behind him. He was a slim man, five ten, skin a tone darker than Gloria's. He had an approachable look to him, the kind of person who just has a certain facial structure in which you feel you can ask as many questions as you need, or and if you make a mistake, it won't result in a demanding correction in which the two of you have lost instant respect for each other.

Gloria sprinted ahead of me. "Uncle Jerry," she ecstatically yelled.

Her arms wrapped around him, cracking his back in three places. He was a good sport, laughing it off. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his bald head, returning the embrace to her. I kept a consistently average walking pace, until I made it to the top of the hill.

"This must be little Peter," he said. "Doesn't look so little to me."

Already I was struggling to come up with a clever response. What was wrong with me? The best I could do was say, "Yeah." I gave him one of my weaker handshakes, a start worth cringing.

Yeah? That was the best I could do? My real problem was getting a flow. Once I had a topic to talk about, I was unstoppable. I would have to be the one to shut up. But when it came to clever, genuine, remarks I was a train wreck. There were certain times when I would do fairly well, with a joke of my own, though most of the time it was a laughably pathetic attempt.

"My Gloria says you work at the airport with her, she giving you any trouble?"

I was already liking this guy; he was helping me out. He could tell I needed some assistance with the conversation, so he asked me about something I was familiar with. He gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"I sure do," I said. "We have been working together for a bunch of years now. We go to lunch together almost every day. She is one of my best friends."

"Nice, very nice. Well, Hey, let's not waste no time, let's get golfing. You want the beginner's course or the more advanced?"

I had some mini golf experience. It was not something I tried all the time but would usually do it once a week in the summer. I was okay at it, usually placed in seventh out of the fifteen-person group I was in.

Gloria examined both courses. I was fine with either, so long as we got through the holes with water near them in a hurry. It was not unheard of for me to get my ball stuck at the bottom of the pond. I still have a fifty dollar fine over at Larry's Place for ball returns.

The more advanced course seemed complicated for even the most skilled golfers. There drastic curves and bumps in the surface made it a challenge to assess the angle you approached it with. There were certain holes in which you began at the top of a staircase, and finished ten feet below, where you followed your ball down a drain. The final hole was on the side of a granite hill. It had an amazing view of Atlanta's skyline.

The beginner's course seemed like a more reasonable demand for a newbie like Gloria. She needed the relaxed curves in the ground and not have to worry about the narrow passageways in the rocks of the advanced course. I didn't want to be pushy, but in my opinion, I was thinking it would be for the best.