“Make a 90 degree angle with your arms, take a few practice swings to get the flow of it, and let it rip.” Jonas coaches me as I approach the tee box, holding a driver.
I stick a wooden tee halfway through the ground between the white markers. The golf ball I was holding now rests on top of the tee. My feet paws are lined up in the direction I want my ball to go, as advised by Jonas. I hold my club facing down towards an empty space next to my ball so my practice swing doesn't actually hit it. My drive swings need some work, but on the last eight holes, I was able to putt very well thanks to all my mini golf experience.
As I swung, I could hear the club cut through the wind like a whip before it cracked. Jonas tells me that's a good sound for the club to make. I look over at him and he nods with two thumbs up. That tells me that was a good swing.
I inch myself closer to the ball, this time ready to hit it. I take a deep breath out, focused on doing exactly what I did again. Relax, Adrian. You got this.
I swing again, this time, hearing the awesome sound the club makes after striking the ball into the air. In awe, I watch my ball flying in the air before it banks right next to the fairway. In all fairness, that was probably my best drive yet versus losing balls to a few bushes and a water trap. Not to mention the time I almost hit someone playing on the course to the left of us.
Jonas walks up to the tee box, driver in paw and excitement on his face.
“Dude! That was great. Nice swing!” Jonas tells me as he fist bumps me.
“Heh… Not sure how that was, but thanks.” I told him.
He sticks his tee in the dirt by where mine was as he says, “This time you can swing from where your ball landed.”
Before I respond, I take a moment of silence so he can focus on hitting his ball. I can tell he's done this before. Despite the stogie in his mouth, he looks like a pro golfer. He’s focused on the ball, the flow of his club is very natural. He takes a few practice swings before hitting his ball. The impact of his club striking the ball echoes throughout the large chamber we’re in. His ball flies over the hole, landing in the middle of the fairway. The ball bounces a few times before stopping.
“We’ll stop at your ball first.” he says, walking off the tee box. “I’d suggest a six iron for this shot.”
I nod as I stow my driver back in the bag. Jonas stows his clubs and we both get back into the golf cart before Jonas drives off towards my ball.
This would probably be a good time to talk to him more about his past. I need a bit more context on what happened when he was framed for murder to completely understand him. I want to just ask what else he knows about this senator and his son, but I saw how he reacted when he retold the story. He is clearly hurt by it, just like me.
“So Jonas,” I awkwardly start a conversation. “Tell me more about yourself. I know you really like golf, but what else is there to you?”
“Heh,” he nervously chuckles. “There's really not much to me. I didn’t get to do much growing up in Chicago. I only got into golf because my grandpa. When he was alive, took me golfing whenever he could. This was back when I was a kid so I was able to start young. Then when I started being able to drive around the state, I would take golf trips by myself more frequently as his health started to decline. My parents really didn't do much besides work so we never really went on trips often; and anytime we did, they would just argue and yell at me when something went wrong.”
Shit, did I just segway him to a bad memory? I just asked him to tell me about himself. Was his life really this bad?
He pauses and speaks again in a more positive tone, “But that’s all behind me. Things kinda got better after I started living on my own. I got my own place, I got a job, I met someone, I got… arrested,” -his voice starts breaking-“I got framed for murder, I lost everything-”
I interject, “Ok ok, let’s not think about that right now, buddy.” pointing at my ball to our right. “Hey look, my ball’s right there. Let's just play some golf, alright?”
Jonas sniffles and parks the cart a few feet away from my ball.
“Sorry. I don’t really get to talk much about this kind of stuff.” he tells me.
He’s still got a lot of repressed emotions. I’m surprised he hasn't talked to anyone about this. Martin, Azure, Ari, even Heather would probably listen. We’re on the last hole before the turn, I can see the clubhouse on the other side of the green. The sooner we finish this hole, the sooner I can get him to talk.
“Let’s talk later, Jonas.” I tell him as I rest a paw on his shoulder.
He smiles and nods.
I leave the cart to grab my six iron. These shots are not as difficult for me as driving, but the one thing I’m still getting used to is the distance each club can shoot a ball. Jonas explained to me each club has a different angle on the face to change the angle it's shot up in the air at. A club that shoots at a higher angle may not travel as far is what I get from it.
Taking my golfing position, I take a practice swing before the real deal. My swing hits and flies through the air, just shy of the green.
Jonas gives me a smile and nod of approval. That must have been a good shot. I pump my fist, knowing I’m getting better at this. I’m pumped.
I put my club back and hop in the cart with Jonas at the driver seat. We then take off to his ball which is close to where my second shot landed.
“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to bum you out if I did that. I’m starting to think you were just making small talk.” says Jonas.
“In a way, I was trying to make small talk; but I also wanted to get to know you better.” I tell him transparently.
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“Why? Do you think I’m cute?” he asks.
Flustered, I responded to him, “N- No! Like just as a friend. You know.”
He laughs, “I’m kidding. You should know by now I’m not really into guys. Not that I care if other people are, like Martin who’s into… well, everyone.”
“Yeah, he’s something, alright.” I responded.
“Do you like him?” Jonas asks me in a singsong voice.
“He's cute and all. I don't mind the flirting, but that’s still something I have a hard time thinking about. Getting involved with someone else.” I told Jonas.
He nods, “Fair enough.”
“If I may ask, is there anyone here you are into?” I ask Jonas.
“Ari’s pretty cute. I would ask her to dinner but I’m afraid I would make her uncomfortable. She’s had issues in the past with guys and I don't want to push things too far with her by accident.” Jonas tells me.
Nodding, I tell him, “I see.”
We pull up to our golf balls and Jonas goes to swing first. He pitches the ball up on the green, roughly five feet from the hole, which is impressive.
“You’re up.” Jonas says to me.
I go to grab a pitching wedge and take position to swing onto the green. Jonas did a half swing to get onto the green. I'll try that same technique for my swing.
My club hits the ball up onto the green. It lands just past the hole and rolls off about 11 feet from the hole. Oh well, I should be able to make that in two, making a bogey.
We grab our putters and remove the flag from the hole. Jonas hits first, landing in the hole on his third shot for a birdie. He pumps his fist and grabs his ball out of the hole.
“You got this!” he tells me with enthusiasm.
11 feet is doable, but it's gonna be tricky with the curvature of the green. At first, I thought putting was gonna be like mini golf, but it's a lot less predictable.
I give the ball a gentle tap, aiming just left of the hole, and the ball rolls off at just the right speed. I'm watching with anticipation as it gets closer to the hole. Based on the speed and trajectory, it might actually sink in the hole. It glides on the brim of the hole and sinks for par.
“WOOH! Hell yeah!” I shout.
“You did pretty well.” Jonas says as he fist bumps me. “For your first game, 54 is not a bad score.”
“Is it though?” I responded.
We put the flag back in the hole and put our balls and clubs back in our bags. We drove in the golf cart back to the door of the clubhouse for lunch. Once we get inside the clubhouse, Jonas waves to the housekeeper behind the bar counter. The housekeeper waves back. The lounge is now empty minus the three of them.
“What are you in the mood for?” Jonas asks me.
I respond, “A hot dog sounds nice. Can I also get an IPA?”
Jonas looks over at the housekeeper, “Double that.”
The housekeeper nods and fills two glasses with IPA. They hand them to us before going into the kitchen in the back to get the hot dogs. Jonas and I take a seat at a table and toast our glasses.
“Cheers!” Jonas toasts before we both take a big swig from our glasses. “You did really well today. Do you think you’re up for another nine?”
“Maybe once I get some food in me.” I replied.
“Seriously, thank you for hanging out today. I don’t really have that many friends here on Stratosylum.” he tells me.
“Me neither. Although, some of the people here seem really chill.” I told him.
“Yeah. There are some people here that need a little extra time warming up to you. A lot of us have either never had friends or we just lost them before coming here.” Jonas says.
I take a drink and ask him, “I hate to bring up a sore subject, but what you told me about your past was really messed up. Did everyone here go through something like that?”
He leans back and tells me, “I don’t know everyone's story here, but no one’s really had a happy ending. For most people here, Stratosylum is their happy ending. Was for me at least.”
I really want to ask him about the senator, but I’m choosing to bite my tongue to avoid killing the mood.
The housekeeper returns with two hot dogs and places them in front of us. The hot dogs were plain with no condiments applied or even on the side. You’d think Jonas would put ketchup and mustard on the tables if this was the case.
As the housekeeper is walking away, Jonas asks them, “Hey, could you at least grab us some ketchup and mustard packets?”
“There’s a condiment bar right behind you. Get them yourself.” The housekeeper said with a scowl on his face.
I’ve never seen a housekeeper without a grinning face on their mask, let alone a scowl. I didn't think they could do that. I also never thought they could tell residents to do something themselves.
“Oh, sorry.” Jonas says to the housekeeper.
Jonas starts to get out of his chair to get condiments; but before he even stood up, the housekeeper started speaking again.
“I’ll get the condiments!” they said out loud before turning towards the condiment counter.
The glyph on the sides of their mask and jacket started blinking violently. All of a sudden, the housekeeper starts panicking.
“No, please. I said I’ll get the condiments! I’m sorry Hunter, I won't do it aga-” They scream before all the lights on them go out.
Their mask is pitch black. No face, no glyphs. They were completely still, like they just shut off.
Frozen by the shock of what just occurred, Jonas and I are completely still, looking at the disabled protogen. We turn our eyes to each other, keeping our heads still.
After five seconds, the protogen powers back up. The housekeeper glyph illuminates yet again on the sides of their mask and jacket. Their face now shows the signature housekeeper grin and their attitude just did a complete 180.
They proceeded to get us not only ketchup and mustard packets, but pickle sauce too and a few napkins.
“Please let me know if you need anything else.” The housekeeper says with a big smile.
Both myself and Jonas have not moved an inch or changed the expression on our faces until the housekeeper goes back behind the bar.
Jonas leans over to me and whispers, “Okay, what the actual fuck was that?”
“Why are you asking me? I wasn’t the one that asked for condiments.” I whisper back.
“I’ve never seen them do that before. That’s a new kind of crazy, even for someone who’s lived on top of an endless tower for almost a year now.” Jonas whispers.
I’m surprised Jonas has never seen that happen before. Jonas wasn’t mean to him. He just wanted condiments and the housekeeper was already up. I guess they reboot when they don't do as they're told. But the way they acted was most strange. He even called Jonas by another name.
“Why did he call you Hunter?” I ask Jonas.
Jonas shrugs, “I have no clue. I’ve never been called that before, even down there.”
There was no one else in the room, let alone the clubhouse. I don't believe the housekeeper didn’t know Jonas’ name. He built this floor, and I’m sure he comes down here a lot.
The housekeeper looks at us whispering to each other. We both return to an upright position in our seats to act like we are enjoying our hot dogs with the condiments they so graciously retrieved for us. Our appetites have been turned a bit after watching a robot crisis, but we choose to eat our hot dogs anyways to avoid disrespecting them again.
“I think nine holes was enough today.” I tell Jonas.
He nods as he's chowing down on his hot dog, agreeing to go back up after lunch.
