Chris Andaya paused. “Get paid for beating up people?”
“Yes, my friend,” said Byung Yu. “You’d help me adjust the attitudes of people who are needing encouragement to do so.”
“I do what, exactly?”
“You’d collect from them what they owe me. You’d collect money they’ve borrowed, or anything else they might owe me.”
“I don’t know.”
Yu smiled. “Looking at you, I’d guess that your very presence might make simply talking to them work.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Here’s my card. Please call me.”
The woman came out the door. The three Koreans walked to their car, stepping around the beaten body of their friend.
The woman came to Andaya. “Where we go?” she asked.
“You’d better go home.”
Andaya got into his car and drove toward Kapahulu. He had a wicked urge to go to the Ala Wai Golf Course and pound balls.
It was 2:30 a.m. He took his driver, a multi-purpose item in a pinch, and a bucket of old balls from his trunk, then proceeded to the area they’d left for a crude driving range.
Andaya wasn’t surprised to see others. The diehards were slicing away under the moonlight. Some had Coleman lanterns.
After stretching and practice strokes, he was ready to unload. There were few activities that freed up Andaya. Slamming balls was one. He did some good thinking while he imagined punishing people he didn’t like.
Just as he was about to tee off, someone screamed “fore!” Andaya didn’t see it, but he heard a ball whiz by.
“Shit!” Andaya yelled. “Who the hell did that?”
A figure stepped out of the line and ran toward him. Before the person could get within punching range, it said, “I’m so sorry.”
Andaya relaxed his stance. A woman, quite good-looking from what he could make out, walked up to his face.
“Are you okay?” She reached up to pat him on the shoulder. “So sorry. This is my first time golfing.”
Andaya liked the feel of her hand on his shoulder. Since he’d been discharged recently, this was the first time a woman had touched him when he didn’t have to pay.
Andaya broke out in a huge laugh. The woman stepped back, started laughing too.
“Your first time, huh? Lucky for me. If you were any better, you might have actually hit me.”
Andaya stopped laughing, looked at her under the moonlight. “I’m Chris, Chris Andaya.” He stuck out his hand.
“Denise Chan,” she said, shaking his.
It was like an electric shock. Chris Andaya was in love.
* * * * *
Aloha #WriterWednesday, I hope your week is going well and that you are well, too. Today’s #WritingPrompt is
Use it to inspire a piece of writing, short or long, poetry or prose, a mini-play, whatever you like, and then post that piece on your site and link back to me, or simply leave it as a comment below. I would love to read it : )