Jimmy inherited a golf course he never wanted to run. His solution was to let other people adopt the holes—like those highway signs, but with fairways. What could go wrong? Scuba lessons in the water hazards. Therapists walking the fairways with patients. A pollen sanctuary that calculates your shots so you don’t disturb the bees. A frat house on Hole 17 that ends in a literal cart fire. And one exhausted owner who just wanted to stop mowing. This is the complete saga of the Finch Golf Club.
Adopt a Golf Hole
Jimmy spent his childhood mowing the grass, moving the hole locations and fishing random things from the ponds. He knew every inch of the 18-hole course, and he despised it.
Jimmy spent his days dealing with all the problems that come from people driving around in carts and hitting tiny balls with expensive clubs. Worse, the golf course’s trust wouldn’t let him sell or redevelop the property into anything other than a golf course.
Magic struck one day when Jimmy was hiding in his office and staring out the window. Outside, on the main road, he noticed two construction workers installing a sign. Jimmy hurried out to talk to them.
The construction workers were putting up a blue sign that said, “Adopt a road, Boris Funeral Services.”
Jimmy looked at the sign for a long time, so long that the construction workers felt uncomfortable and decided to get back to work. Finally, Jimmy spoke to the two workers. “What if you could adopt a golf hole?”
Jimmy turned to run inside. He didn’t stop and speak to his wife. He ignored one of the golf pros and quickly looked up a phone number. He could see it now—18 holes, 18 different people adopting them. As long as they cut the grass and maintained their hole, he didn’t much care what they did with the space.
“Hello, Boris Funeral Services,” a man answered on the first ring, “Director Parker Walsh speaking.”
“This is Jimmy Tilton down at the Finch Golf Club.”
“Ah, Jimmy, we just adopted the road in front of your course.”
“Yes, I saw. I was curious. How would you feel about adopting a golf hole?”
There was a long pause before Parker responded, “Do you know how many of our clients wish they could be buried on your golf course?”
“Why don’t you come out and look at Hole 10?”
Live From Hole 13
“Hello friends, this is DJ Bogey on KHLE 91.3. We’re broadcasting 24 hours a day from hole 13 at the Finch Golf Club.
“I just got off the phone with a listener. It appears that Tim Wright and his family just moved into town, and he wants to know why we broadcast from a golf course. I suggested he come out any time and play a round. We’ll interview him and find out why the Wright family made the wrong decision to move to our city. I’m just kidding, Timmy.
“We adopted the 13th hole—it’s one of 18 adopted holes out here on the golf course. We’ll play some tunes this morning, but we are also watching the first golfer of the day up at the 13th tee. As always, Billy Baker is out here, testing the greens. He works in the pro shop. Billy’s surveying the 321-yard par four. The hole is a straight shot, but there are bunkers and trees on both sides of the hole.
“I could get out my binoculars, but I can tell from here that Billy has decided to use the driver. From his history, we know that Billy does better with his five wood on this hole.
“You might have heard Billy yell shut up in the background there, so I will just lower my voice slightly. If you haven’t ventured down to the Finch Golf Club, you may be unaware that we have speakers, so you can hear everything happening on hole 13. The broadcast also plays in the pro shop, and of course, you can listen to us live and online at KHLE 91.3.
“Billy hits the shot and it goes far into the trees. Billy, we’ll give you a mulligan on that one. Still, it was better than his shot two days ago that fell about three feet in front of the tee.
“Billy wants to play that one as he’s getting in his golf cart. Man, he’s going pretty fast… He’s veered off the path and is jumping over the grass. Hey Billy, I have to cut that grass! He appears to be heading, oh no, he’s heading straight for us! Billy stop! Folks, I’m going to run. Hopefully, I can draw him away from our little radio studio. Billy!!! No!!!!”
A Haunted Valentine’s Day
Adopting Hole 11 proved to be a jackpot for Nicktor at Halloween. The haunted golf course hole saw huge crowds each night in October. Golfers and fright fans alike delighted in the screams on the fairway, the monsters in the trees and the secrets of a newly installed haunted house that overlooked the green.
Valentine’s Day flopped. Thinking he could capitalize on haunted scenes throughout the year, Nicktor hired full-time actors. The Ghosts of Christmas Past Haunted House was profitable, but the Valentine’s Day Couple’s Haunted Holiday did not catch on.
Nicktor hated Valentine’s Day anyway. Sure, he knew how to scare and delight people at Halloween, but he seemed to only know how to scare people away on Valentine’s Day.
After sparse attendance on Valentine’s night, a woman booked the last showing with special instructions. Cass was bringing a guy named Gary, whom she wanted to scare. Cass mentioned seeking vengeance, which Nicktor wanted to offer after losing so much money on Valentine’s Day.
The couple started in the forest and encountered a cupid with glowing red demon eyes. He held up his bow and fired at them. Red lights illuminated Frankenstein’s monster hiding behind them in the forest. The monster screamed, “I love you,” and chased Gary deeper into the forest while Cass stood back and laughed. As they continued, a vampire jumped out of a coffin, and a werewolf also chased Gary into the next scene.
The couple continued onto a section of the golf course lined with free-standing portraits you might see at a funeral but that looked like online dating profile pictures. The portraits came to life and tormented Gary about his poor dating strategies while leaving Cass alone.
As they entered the haunted house doorway, Nicktor appeared and held Cass back as Gary entered alone. They listened as Gary confronted the long-term commitment section of the horrors. A skeleton Bride and Groom chased him around as more and more domestic tasks became terrifying.
“Thanks for this,” Cass said, laughing. “I had a bad breakup recently, so I decided to bring my brother here just to torture him. Best Valentine’s Day in years.”
“Wait, he’s your brother?” Nicktor asked. “Did he do something to you?”
“Nope, it’s just funny that he’s so scared.”
The front door opened, and Gary, covered in flour that made him look like a ghost, emerged screaming and running up the golf course like a Scooby Doo character.
“Did we take it too far?” Nicktor asked.
“Not at all,” Cass said. “When you spend a Valentine’s Day with monsters, the next one has to be better, right?”
Scuba Lessons on Hole 6
Scuba gear littered the right fairway in front of the lake about 100 yards from the 6th tee at the Finch Golf Club. The instructor, Pat Muir, led six people in a lesson.
“Now remember, apart from the hand gestures, the most important advice in scuba and in life is ‘do not rush’. Going fast will lead to the bends at greater depths, but that’s why we practice here.”
“Fore!” a voice yelled, and a golf ball bounced near them before resting beside one of the air tanks.
“Nice work, Beverly. You saved that guy’s ball from going into the water!” Pat said excitedly.
Pat continued to lecture about hand signals while the golf cart rolled up.
“Hey, what’s the meaning of this?” a golfer said, getting out of the cart.
“I’m in the middle of my lesson, but we’ll move some gear for the next shot,” Pat said patiently.
“Ludicrous, this is a golf course,” the golfer said, stamping around. Beverly moved her gear, and the golfer took his shot. It hooked backward and flew into the water.
“Now, class, here is a good lesson about the principles we discussed,” Pat said as the golfer grabbed another ball out of his bag. “This guy hit his shot too quickly. He let his emotions get the better of him.”
“What are you saying?” the golfer said, swinging around and glaring at Pat.
“Class, let’s all practice our breathing technique with our golfer friend here,” Pat said, “What’s your name, sir?”
“Dennis,”
“Dennis, try this with us. I’ll give you 10 free golf balls,” Pat said. Dennis reluctantly put down his club and stood with the others.
“Now put your hand on your belly and try to breathe into all that space naturally,” Pat said. “Visualize the waves of an ocean coming in slowly and then breathe out as the tide recedes off the sand. Great. Now repeat that again, feeling the waves swelling up and releasing.”
Pat continued leading the breathing exercise for a couple of more rounds and then told Dennis to take his shot.
Dennis hit it straight to the green, and the class politely golf clapped.
“Wow,” Dennis said, “Do you teach golf lessons too?”
“No, just scuba,” Pat said. He handed the man ten golf balls.
“Where’d you get these?”
“Out of the lake, we practice scuba diving to get golf balls. I can return your ball later today.”
“I’m confused,” Dennis said. “What are you doing here?”
“I adopted this golf hole to teach scuba lessons. I am building an underwater network of all the lakes so people can practice going through tunnels. I’m also considering creating an underwater scuba golf course.”
“Interesting choices,” Dennis said, “But this whole golf course is crazy.”
“Tell me about it,” Pat said, but instead of mentioning the radio station or the haunted house, he replied, “I’ve had to dive multiple times into the hole 17 lake after drunk golfers reversed their golf carts into the pond. I never thought I’d be saving lives on a golf course.”
The Doctor Will Tee Up on Hole 4
Marco thought Hole 4 was finally a standard golf hole with no antics before he read the sign. Hole 4: Par 5, Dr. Chip Green, PsyD. Specializing in individual counseling, couples therapy and golf games.
Sure, he’s a doctor, Marco thought sarcastically. As he approached the tee, everything seemed calm. So far, no shrinks had jumped out of the bushes to try to analyze him. His partner, Parker, always wanted to get him to see someone. Parker visited a psychologist twice a week. Not Marco— he saw no need for the therapy. Parker loved it. What shrink did Parker see?
“Marco!” a voice yelled behind him. He turned to see his partner, Parker, walking up to him along with a man in a green golf shirt. He could only assume this was Dr. Green himself.
“What are you doing here?” Parker asked. He looked rather mad.
“We should let him play his golf game, Dr. Green said to Parker. Today is not a couples’ therapy session.”
“But he’s not supposed to be golfing,” Parker said. “He’s supposed to be visiting his cousin.”
“What about you?” Marco asked. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight. “You come out here twice a week and get a therapy session in front of the whole world. How many of our friends know you go to therapy here?”
“It’s a Par 5,” Parker said, “You don’t run into many people. We walk around the hole and talk.”
“The walking is a great way to get some space,” Dr. Green interjected. “That’s why I like having this as my office.”
“What if it’s confidential? What about conflicts between a couple that they don’t want to tell the world.”
“See that gardener shed over there?” Dr. Green said, pointing. “I’ve turned that into an office. For private moments, I offer bottled water, a couch and air conditioning.”
Marco considered his options. If he did nothing, he would be in a massive fight with Parker. Instead, Marco decided on a plan: “Can we go see the office? Maybe I could join this session?”
“That’s a great idea,” Parker said, his anger melting.
“Excellent. Although it wasn’t scheduled to be a couples’ session, I’m happy to make an exception for you,” Dr. Green said. There was commotion behind them. “Hold on for one moment. Someone on Hole 3 is having an absolute meltdown. Let me go give them my card.”
The Pollen Sanctuary
Despite the course shenanigans, the foursome golfed well before arriving at the 15th hole of the Finch Golf Club. The foursome—Brian, Mike, Al and Lester—was surprised to be greeted by a woman standing next to a Pollen Sanctuary sign at the tee.
“Hello and welcome to the Pollen Sanctuary at Hole 15,” the woman said. “My name is Honey. As you can see, we’ve created a place where bees can thrive.”
They looked out over the hole and saw wildflowers lining the green on both sides, with intermixed flowering plants and trees. The rough was made up of nothing but flowers.
“As you can see, we have a very straightforward Par 3 here.” Honey continued, “How are your golfing skills?”
“We’re okay,” Brian said. “Thanks for the information about the hole.”
Brian moved to place his ball on a tee to hit his tee shot, but Honey scurried in front of him.
“Before you swing, I’d like to offer you a few options for this hole. We want to make sure that the bees are not disturbed. We’re trying to save the pollinators, and every ball hit into the rough kills bees.”
“I’m allergic to bees,” Lester said, cutting in front of Brian. “What are my options?”
“If you tell me your current score, I can calculate where on the putting green your ball will likely land and how many shots it will take to get there.”
“Deal,” Lester said, and he told Honey his score.
Honey took out a radio. “Queenie, if you could place a ball at the fourth position. Sir, you made it there in two shots.”
Queenie raced out from under an umbrella near the flag to place a ball about seven feet from the hole.
“I don’t want to do that,” Brian said, and he got ready to hit again.
“Well, we have two other options,” Honey said. “The first one is a virtual golf swing. You take a swing without hitting a ball, and we use our camera trackers to see where it would land.”
“Oh, that sounds cool,” Al said. “I’ll do that.”
Al stepped up to the tee and swung. Honey pulled out her iPad and then radioed Queenie.
“Queenie, it looks like the next ball should be at position six.”
Down at the hole, Queenie ran out and placed a ball for Al about seven feet from the hole.
“What’s the other option?” Mike asked.
“I hit for you,” Honey said.
“Well, then, I’m not the one killing the bees,” Mike said. He placed a ball, and Honey hit a great shot. It landed about seven feet from the hole.
“Alright, I’m going to hit,” Brian said. He placed his ball, and it sliced into the rough. The group watched in horror as it bounced for 50 feet, sending flowers flying. Honey began to cry.
“Can you calculate where I would land for my next shot so I don’t have to walk into the rough?” Brian said sheepishly.
“Certainly,” Honey said. The tears stopped, and she radioed. “Queenie, position 12.”
The group watched Queenie run out and place the ball about seven feet from the hole.
Needs a Good Home
“Is adoption right for your family or your business? Is there room in your heart for a lovable companion that many others have passed over? Could this be the thing that your relationship needs to heal? Imagine a life where you spend your time walking in the forest, maintaining a garden and raking sand. Don’t you want to open your heart to Hole 12 at the Finch Golf Club? Come on down to the clubhouse. Fall in love with the hole and see if adoption is right for you.”
The commercial read ended with KHLE’s radio DJ, Three-Putt Pete, starting a new track. Jimmy turned down the radio in his office at the Finch Golf Club and thought, “Hole 12 is a nightmare.”
The hole didn’t fit with the rest of the course. Tucked between the Haunted House and the Radio Station, people often skipped Hole 12 altogether. Sometimes, golfers arrived at the clubhouse, unsure how they’d only played 17 holes. Jimmy wanted to order signs to make the path to Hole 12 clear, but he needed someone to adopt the hole successfully to pay for the signs.
The first adopters raced drones. They set up a drone track around the golf course. It should have existed harmoniously with the golf course, but the drone racers gained too much pleasure from messing with the golfers. They tried to scare golfers as they were preparing to hit their next shots. They collided their drones with golf balls and dropped extra golf balls so people didn’t know which one was their ball. Finally, a handful of regulars declared war on the drones and hacked several out of the sky. When the owner of the drones came to complain, Jimmy pointed out that he had started the fight, and the drones (and their owner) left.
Next, a group decided to open a dog park after the course closed for the day. It seemed like a great idea, but the dogs did not treat the course with the reverence it needed. Within a week, the beautiful grass was gone and only dirt was left. The pond on the hole became filthy, with all the dogs jumping in. Owners never properly picked up after their pets, and dogs buried bones in the sand traps. For the integrity of the course, Jimmy moved on.
Finally, VR enthusiasts decided they wanted to use the space to play VR games. Jimmy was skeptical that the VR enthusiasts would avoid the golfers, but other problems arose. The VR people couldn’t deal with the uneven terrain. They got dizzy when the wind hit them, and the internet connection dropped in the middle of the hole. Truthfully, they came up with every excuse not to have to use their headsets anymore, which happens with VR a lot. They abandoned the course within a few days.
As Jimmy reflected on these disasters, his phone rang, and he answered it.
“Hello, we heard your ad on the radio and thought we might be the perfect fit to adopt your golf hole.”
Jimmy perked up in his chair. “That’s great. What kind of business do you run?”
“We’re an adoption agency. Your ad sparked our curiosity.”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said, defeated. “We tried dogs on the hole already. It doesn’t work.”
“Oh, not dogs, sir.”
“Kids?” Jimmy asked.
“No,” the person said, laughing. “You’re a great fit because you have space for our animals to lounge in the sun and a pond to keep them cool.”
“What’s your business?” Jimmy asked.
“We run an alligator farm.”
A Death Fore-Warned
Do adopted highway stretches fight with each other? Jimmy did not know, but as he sat in his office off the first tee at the Finch Golf Club, he wished that maybe he just owned a highway.
Hole 10, adopted by Boris Funeral Services, was fighting with Hole 11, the Haunted House and he needed to mediate the proceedings. Was this really better than just mowing twice a week? Jimmy now hated his adopt-a-hole golf course experiment, but he was too far into the plan to abandon it.
The only hole without drama was Jimmy’s hole–Hole 1, which sat next to the clubhouse. Jimmy was quickly becoming a city-renowned chef. But the drama came to him as the two men sat in his office—the haunted house purveyor Nicktor and the funeral director Parker Walsh.
“It’s just not how things should be done,” Walsh said, holding up a sign for Nicktor’s fright of the living dead poster. “He’s ripped off our hole design with bodies coming out of graves along the course. Why would people choose to be buried in a place where they’ll be made fun of?”
Nicktor countered, “One of your tombstones says, “Foregone, but not Fore-gotten. You’re the one making the mockery.”
Both of them looked at Jimmy expectantly as if he were supposed to solve this problem. He guessed he had to solve it. Adopted children are still children. Adopted golf holes still belong to the owner of the golf course.
“Is it just the gravestones you have a problem with, or are there more issues?” Jimmy said.
“It’s the whole décor. Why do we even allow a haunted house on this course? It makes a mockery of the whole enterprise.”
“You’re completely ignoring Hole 17 because it’s a frat house over there, but they let you drink for free,” Nicktor said. Jimmy wished that Nicktor hadn’t come in full costume makeup—fake blood dripped down from his eyes, along with a bite mark on his neck.
“Drinking is a time-honored tradition in funeral services to honor the dead.”
“Drinking also contributes to people driving their cars into the lake over there, so soon you’ll get more clients,” Nicktor responded.
“It’s still not as sad as your Valentine’s Day Haunted House flop.”
“Low blow,” Nictkor said, standing up. “You take that back.”
“Boys, boys, boys,” Jimmy said. He would not refer to these two as men. “How about this—Nicktor, you donate 10% of your profits to the funeral home and Parker, you take Nicktor along once a week to your Hole 17 drinking party.”
The two men looked at each other.
“I mean, we do both have an interest in death,” Nicktor said
“And a good business deal,” Parker said. The two shook hands.
Jimmy got up and fled his own office.
The Sign on Hole 3
Hole 3 of the Finch Gold Club supported a big sign next to the tee: Hole 3 is proudly adopted by the Reliable Insurance Group. We’re so reliable, it’s in our name!
The big sign featured neon lights that turned on in the evening, and none of the golfers could miss it as they passed by.
The problem was that once the golfers passed the sign, the hole itself was a disaster. The grass grew too long, trash rolled onto the fairway and a family of raccoons harassed anyone who hooked their tee shot left near the bushes.
Jimmy, the owner of the Finch Golf Club, sat in his golf cart and seethed. Jimmy was waiting for Tommy and Tammy, the insurance agents from the Reliable Insurance Group, who had adopted the hole. They were in charge of maintaining the hole, and Jimmy had already had to mow himself three times.
Tommy and Tammy arrived on foot and stood in front of their sign.
“Will you look at that sign?” Tommy said to Tammy. “It’s such a beautiful sign.”
“We did such a great job designing that sign,” Tammy agreed. The two just stared at the sign.
Jimmy got out of his car and walked over to the pair.
“Tommy, Tammy,” Jimmy began, but he was cut off.
“Jimmy, don’t you just love our sign?” Tommy asked.
“It’s a very nice sign.”
“Thanks for meeting us here. It’s a good reminder that we built a great sign,” Tammy said.
“I did not call you here about the sign,” Jimmy said. “Walk over to the tee with me.”
The insurance agents walked towards him, but they kept their eyes on the sign. When they met Jimmy at the tee, he asked them to look at the golf hole.
“Oh yes, we also adopted this golf hole,” Tommy said, looking at it. He noted the trash and the raccoon family. “I remember it being nicer.”
“It was nicer,” Jimmy said.
“Well, why aren’t you taking better care of it?” Tammy asked.
“Because you adopted the hole. You’re supposed to take care of it.”
Tammy and Tommy looked at each other and shook their heads. Tommy said, “I don’t think that’s right.”
“This was the whole agreement,” Jimmy said. “You put up the sign in exchange for taking care of the hole.”
“I mean, it’s not like we have to pick up trash from the piece of road we adopted,” Tammy said.
“Actually, you’re supposed to pick up the trash,” Jimmy said. “It makes your company look bad if an adopted stretch of road is a mess. It makes your sign look bad if the hole is in sorry shape. If you can’t start taking care of the hole, I’m taking down the sign.”
Both Tammy and Tommy looked horrified.
“Well, can we borrow your lawn mower?” Tommy asked.
“Yes. In the short term, you can borrow a lawn mower.”
“Great, tell him to get started on this hole.”
“No, I am the person who mows. I will lend you the lawn mowing machine.”
“But who will mow?” Tammy asked.
Hole 5 Closed for Redecoration
Jimmy, owner of the Finch Golf Club, raced his cart over to hole 5. After getting off the phone with an angry club member, he needed to check on the state of the hole. Sure enough, as he arrived, a big sign on the tee box stated that the hole was closed for redecorating.
Marty and Marla were halfway down the fairway, disassembling a 15-foot-high college football helmet. The pair headed the Decorating Committee. The organization held evening functions on the course after golf was over for the day.
Jimmy noted that all around the course, members of the organization took down college football decorations that could only have been up for a couple of weeks after they replaced the Labor Day decorations.
Marty whispered something to Marla as Jimmy approached, and then they both stood ready.
“Listen, we’ve talked about this,” Jimmy started.
“Jimmy, we’re really sorry, but a decorating emergency occurred,” Marla said.
“Which was?”
“The Southgate Tea Club had to move their fall equinox party because of flooding at the art museum,” Marty said, “So we got the call. It’s a huge deal to have such an important gathering.”
“What is a fall equinox party?” Jimmy asked. This change of scenery was not in the normal decorating schedule.
“It’s a party to celebrate the end of summer,” Marla said. “The truth is that we are a bit lost for decoration ideas.”
“How about golf course themed?” Jimmy suggested sarcastically. “Then we don’t have to continue the rest of this conversation.”
“We kind of have a fall theme, and we’re also using some giant scales to represent balance. We’ll have lighting that simulates sunsets.”
“You can’t close a hole. It’s a golf course.” Jimmy said.
“But no one will miss one hole,” Marty said. “There are 18 of them.”
“And you need all of them to figure out your handicap,” Jimmy said. “It’s in the rules for you to adopt the golf hole. You have to keep the hole playable at all times.”
“And we usually can keep the course open, but we only have a few hours until this party.”
“Can’t the golfers play around you?” Jimmy suggested. “They’ll yell fore.”
“Decorating is an art,” Marty said. “You need to be able to concentrate on the task at hand.”
“Sounds like golf,” Jimmy said. “Either you reopen the golf hole, or I turn on the sprinklers. It’s your call.”
“How about this,” Marla said, “We’ll decorate the clubhouse for a year—every holiday. You hate decorating.”
“That’s true.”
“What do you say, Jimmy? Just today?” Marty and Marla smiled at him.
“We need a new sign,” Jimmy said. He really did hate decorating. “It needs to go on the tee, and it needs to say: Hole 5—Free Birdies today, to celebrate the start of fall.”
Dressed to the Hole 9
As Tim and Tyler approached the 9th hole on the Finch Golf Club course, they noted that the tee box was lined with wood-paneled display cases. The displays featured the finest in both golf fashion and designer clothes for men and women.
“It’s a golf-up shop?” Tim asked Tyler.
“Who knows?” Tyler responded. “We took out someone trying to teach a scuba lesson a few holes back. Nothing will surprise me at this point.”
A man dressed to the nines came out from behind a display case. He wore a tasteful navy three-piece suit, complemented nicely by his red glasses. He smiled. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m Von.”
“Hi, Von. I’m Tyler, and this is Tim. Are you the owner of this hole?”
“Oh, I just adopted it,” Von responded. “Are you two new at golf?”
“We’ve been playing for years,” Tyler said. “Why do you ask?”
Von looked the men up and down. Tyler wore jeans and a polo, while Tim wore board shorts with a t-shirt that had a cartoon picture of the sun wearing sunglasses. “It just doesn’t seem like you have golf outfits.”
“We play for fun,” Tim said, smiling and putting his ball down.
“Oh, of course,” Von said with a slight smile. “You do look dressed to have fun. Good luck, gentlemen.”
The couple playing behind Tim and Tyler walked up, and Von moved towards them. Tim glanced back as Tyler readied his tee shot.
“Do you think we need golf outfits?” Tim asked, as Tyler’s drive from the tee barely cleared the display cases before hooking left.
Tyler cursed and then looked back at the couple with whom Von was speaking. In matching green attire, the man wore a cap and the woman a tasteful skirt. “They do look like they’re golfing. What does it hurt to browse?”
Tyler and Tim walked up to Von and the couple.
“Oh, I see,” Von told the couple as they approached. “You’re going to go to dinner in your golf clothes? Very well. I hope you have a lovely game.”
Tyler and Tim waited as Von turned around. Tyler smiled. “Show us some clothes.”
“Hey, wait,” the woman in the couple said. “We need to look at some evening wear for our dinner.”
“Much like a golf swing, good clothes are worth a little patience,” Von said to Tyler and Tim. Then Von led the four golfers behind a display case to accessorize.
The House of the Rising Golf Hole
Ryan and Zac approached the 7th hole with some trepidation at the Finch Golf Club. Lining the perimeter from their position to the hole 400 yards away were 12 25-foot-high black metal statues.
“What are these?” Zac asked as he looked at the giant ram behind them.
“Those are the signs of the zodiac; the 12 houses,” a woman said, emerging from seemingly nowhere and frightening the golfers. The woman wore a black dress with purple crystals around her neck. “I am Astrid, your spiritual guide through this hole. While all golf holes have astrological pathways, we have calibrated this one to show you the correct path. Each house is positioned where the course’s natural energy resonates with that sign’s qualities. What are your signs?”
“Oh, I’m a Libra,” Zac said enthusiastically.
“I’m Scorpio,” Ryan said, annoyed.
“Does the Scorpio get too competitive sometimes?” Astrid asked.
“He definitely does,” Zac said. “And moody too.”
“I knew it,” Astrid said. “Now, here at the tee, you will find a line between the houses of Aries and Pisces. Scorpio, you’ll want to stay to the left of the line with Pisces. You’re both water symbols. It should lead to a harmonious shot.”
Ryan stepped up to the tee box and just barely put his ball to the left of the line, following Astrid’s instructions.
“Let me give you some advice on where to hit it,” Astrid said, but before she could, Ryan wound up for his shot. Ryan’s ball immediately hooked right and landed in the deep rough, far off track.
“Oh, I was going to warn you about that section of the course,” Astrid said. “The house of Gemini resides there. It’s a superficial foil for a Scorpio.”
Ryan fumed.
Zac stepped up to the tee.
“Libra, let me ask you a question. What’s your issue today? Do you need to pick up the pace or relax?
“Definitely relax,” Zac said.
“Then you should hit with Pisces too,” Astrid said.
Zac, put the ball down. “What should I do?”
“I know your instinct is to aim to the right, but stay to the left. If you can enter Sagittarius’s house on the course, you’ll be rewarded.”
Zac hit his shot and watched his ball soar through the air, land and then roll 50 yards more—a fantastic shot. Zac cheered and high-fived Astrid.
Ryan fumed and yelled at Astrid, “Don’t follow us.” He grabbed his bag and started towards his ball.
“That was great!” Zac said. “What do I do next?”
“Aim for the back of the green, to the right. The house of Leo could actually land you a birdie.”
Astrid handed Zac a zodiac guide to the rest of the course, and as he walked away, she shook her head and laughed. That Scorpio was so predictable on the golf course.
An Alternative History to Putt
Jimmy, head of the Finch Golf Club, was happily enjoying the Halloween party at his clubhouse when Nicktor, who adopted and ran the Haunted House on Hole 11, arrived. Dressed like a vampire, Nicktor did not look ready to be trifled with. Jimmy knew his fun Halloween evening was ruined.
“They’re ruining my haunted house tonight,” Nicktor said, “It’s happening on the most important day of the year—Halloween.”
Jimmy wanted to ask who, but he knew. The course curved so that Hole 11, where the Haunted House sat, and Hole 14 were next to each other. Hole 14 housed the Alternative History Museum.
It seemed like a fun idea. They wanted to explore holidays and events that traditional museums did not cover. They had money and a dedicated staff. In actuality, they reenacted events that had never happened. Jimmy thought for a moment. It can’t be a reenactment if the event never happened in the first place.
“What’s the event tonight?” Jimmy asked.
“Day of the Dead Battle,” Nicktor snarled. “Humans gun down the revolt of the zombies.”
Jimmy just motioned for Nicktor to follow him. Over the course of the year, the group had celebrated “Moon Battle Day”, where they jumped on trampolines as the moon rose to signify the great fight between the moon people and earthlings, which was won by Earth. They had set off fireworks to honor the “Battle of the Kentucky Derby” during a big event for the Decorating Committee. They also toppled the radio tower on Hole 13 to mark “War of the Worlds Day”, claiming that Orson Welles started a galactic civil war when he broadcast a radio play.
In Jimmy’s golf cart, Nicktor relayed that the problem was the fake gunshots. The Haunted House guests would be moving up the golf course towards the house when they heard noises that made them think someone was shooting at them. This caused the patrons to collapse to the ground and not continue to the Haunted House.
Jimmy shook his head, “I tried to get a calendar for them, but it sort of seems…”
“Like the holidays are made up?” Nicktor finished.
Jimmy drove into the battle. Zombies were in hand-to-hand combat with people dressed as Revolutionary War soldiers, who were trying to impale them with bayonets. Every four seconds, there would be a gunshot or cannon shot. The shots were blanks, but it did seem like the zombies would die.
“Hey, there were no golf carts in this battle,” Monroe yelled. The leader of the Alternative History Museum blew a whistle, and everyone stopped.
“This isn’t on your calendar!” Jimmy said, approaching Monroe. “This night is clearly Halloween, and Nicktor is running his Haunted House.”
“We can’t help when the battle was fought,” Monroe said.
“You’re not listening,” Jimmy said, coming up with an idea. “This is Halloween. Didn’t I hear this was the “Day of the Dead Battle?”
“That’s correct,” Monroe said.
“That’s tomorrow,” Jimmy said. He actually knew a little bit about Day of the Dead, and in some places, it was celebrated on Halloween. Jimmy suspected that Monroe hadn’t read enough real history books to know this fact.
Monroe thought for a minute and then blew his whistle. “We have the wrong day, boys. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
No one argued, and everyone seemed happy to walk back towards the building that housed the Alternative History Museum.
“The nice thing about alternative history,” Nicktor said, with a smile, “is that it changes rather quickly.”
Bells and Whistles on Hole 2
The first hole of the Finch Golf Club is a par three that feels like any other golf course. You leave the clubhouse, pass the putting green and the driving range, and arrive at the first tee. There is a sign that reads, “Thank you to those who adopted a golf hole,” and lists the holes and their adopters. Otherwise, it’s a straight shot and an easy way to start the course.
Even from the tee box, though, they can see hole two looming. Marla stared it down as Annie set up for her first shot. A giant structure that looked like a wooden roller coaster loomed as an arch between hole one and hole two, with flashing red lights, and words were not quite visible from the tee.
As Marla and Annie moved up the hole, the words became clear: Max Megaphone’s Hole Two.
“Have you heard of Max Megaphone?” Annie asked Marla.
“Only in this compilation video called, ‘Max Megaphone fails’. He’s a wannabe influencer who can never quite land the trick.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“I guess he adopted the golf hole,” Annie said. “I’ve heard this course was weird, but this seems over the top.”
After finishing hole one with a bogey that Marla blamed on the flashing lights, the pair walked through the giant roller coaster structure bridge to enter a spectacle that looked like a carnival. The fairway was lined with flashing lights and pinstriped booths. One booth featured a giant, rising structure with “out of bounds” written down the side. A booth with clown heads near the tee was labeled Mulligan’s corner. However, none of the spectacle could take away from the man in red, standing right in front of them, holding a megaphone. He had two camera people dressed in black filming the proceedings
“Welcome!” the man yelled, aiming the megaphone at the women so they both had to plug their ears. “to Max Megahone’s Hole Two!”
What seemed like hours later, the friends emerged from a second arch to the tee box for hole three. They were both carrying gift bags from the previous hole. It was a relief to see only a giant billboard for Reliable Insurance Agency. Marla looked at Annie, who looked as if she’d gone through a windstorm.
“What just happened?” Annie asked.
Marla felt so overstimulated that it was hard to focus on what they’d just been through. It started with Max Megaphone encouraging the two golfers to try hitting different fruits to see how far they would go. Annie hit a kiwi pretty far. Marla tried to strike a watermelon with a mallet, but it just exploded everywhere.
Max then took them through all the booths, trying to get them to take part in challenges like holding a lit firework for as long as they could or jumping off the giant out-of-bounds platform. The whole thing was filmed by the two cameramen with lights constantly flashing and different sound effects blaring.
When they finally got back to the tee to play the hole, a man dressed as Bigfoot jumped out from behind one of the booths to scare Marla, who shot the ball through one of the booths.
“If you play my game, I’ll give you a mulligan!” Max Megaphone yelled.
“I’ll give you one for free,” Annie said. The hijinks continued. They both eventually got the ball in the hole and emerged with gift bags.
As they stood staring at hole three, Annie pulled out her scorecard. “Do you have any idea how many shots that took?”
“I don’t, so just give us both pars since that probably took a year off of our lives.”
At that moment, one of the cameramen ran out of the tunnel holding two pieces of paper. “We forgot to get you to sign consent forms to use that footage in our videos.”
Annie and Marla just looked at each other and laughed.
A Lesson in Golf Psychology
Chet and Spike looked shellshocked as they made their way towards Hole 16.
“Did you think we were going to be chased by the bees?” Spike asked about the previous hole.
“No, but the beekeeper really did try to dissuade us from taking our shots,” Chet said.
“I don’t understand this course. We’ve gotten scared, drenched and lectured,” Spike said. “We’ve appeared on YouTube, the radio and TV.”
“Not great for our golf game,” Chet agreed. As they approached the tee box, they saw a man under a small tent with a sign next to it that said ‘golf lessons’.
The man got up and smiled at the two golfers. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and exuded a surfer vibe. “Welcome to my golf hole. I’m Mikey.”
“Hi Mikey,” Spike said. “Will you just tell us what we have to do to pass this hole and move on to the next one? We’re so close to the end.”
“There’s no catch here,” Mikey said with a smile. “This is just a hole where you can take golf lessons.”
“I think we’re good,” Chet said.
“How’s the golf game been today?” Mikey said. He grabbed the driver out of a golf bag he had next to him and set up to take a shot on the Par 4. “Craziest of your life?”
Spike and Chet looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
“People think that golf is a game of skill, but it’s actually an art,” Mikey said, and drove the ball seamlessly to a spot a little over halfway to the hole. “Painters use their imagination to see something in their heads and then make it happen in real life. An actor on stage must face an audience that might do anything. A trombonist must visualize notes on a slide. Golf is art too.”
“But what about when you’re being hounded by astrologists or ridiculed for your clothes?” Chet asked.
Mikey noted that both golfers appeared to have new outfits after visiting Hole 9. “At the end of the day, these are the distractions that keep you from creating the art of a great golf game.”
“We only have three holes left. How many lessons could there be?” Spike asked.
“Hole 17 is by far the craziest hole on the course,” Mikey said. “Some call it a blight on society. Others say it’s where immaturity never dies.”
Spike and Chet looked at each other. This golf course bounded the pair. They could not believe they had made it this far.
“How about this?” Mikey said. “I help you with your games just on this hole today. Then the next time you come play the course, we do the whole round together?”
Chet and Spike did not know what to say. They both hoped never to see the course again, but somehow also knew they would be drawn back.
“Maybe we are artists?” Spike said.
“I think we’re dehydrated,” Chet replied, and he placed his ball on the tee. “Okay, teacher, what should I do?”
The Party Don’t Stop ‘til You Tap In
Jimmy, owner of the Finch Golf Club, noticed the smoke from the clubhouse. Hole 17 was close, but if he heard there was a fire, he knew it would be Hole 17.
Jimmy jumped in his golf cart and stepped on it. Hole 17 was supposed to have a country club setup. Jimmy had approved the building of a bar, restaurant, and pool on the hole. The adopters called themselves Club 17.
Unfortunately, it was more of a spring break mob scene every day. The guys who ran the place could not get into a fraternity in college (some could not even get into college), so they were making up for lost time in their early 30s.
Club 17 hosted loud, raging parties day and night. They got golfers so drunk that golf carts were driven into the lake, and Pat, the scuba instructor from hole 6, had to dive in and save the golfers’ clubs.
The Club 17 ‘boys’ were menaces, and they kept bringing more and more people into the fold. Even Nicktor, the haunted house owner, had joined in day drinking sessions. They would shoot water guns at golfers, chase golfers in full mascot costumes and challenge them to elaborate drinking games.
The liability insurance claims were piling up from this hole, and even though Club 17 always paid its premiums, Reliable Insurance Agency might drop it as a customer.
Of all the crazy things Jimmy had seen on Hole 17, including a few too many naked people, he did not expect what he saw today. In the middle of the course, a golf cart was on fire. It looked like most of the members of Club 17 were standing around watching it burn.
As Jimmy approached, some members turned around and started throwing water balloons at him.
“Whoa, whoa,” Bryson, one of the Club 17 members, yelled, “It’s just Jimmy.”
The water balloons stopped.
“Look, Jimmy, we lit those Alternate History Buffoons golf cart on fire,” one of the guys yelled (The Alternate History Museum had adopted Hole 14.
“You can’t just…” Jimmy began.
“It was a war they started,” Bryson said.
“How?”
“It’s apparently Cookie Peace Day, where a war turned to peace with cookies. They brought us some.”
“And that led to this?”
“They were walnut cookies,” Bryson said. “We could not stand for that.”
The guys started laughing and high-fiving. Some of them had wives and kids. What were they doing?
Jimmy saw Mikey, the Golf Instructor from Hole 16, drive up. He was yelling. “Get away from the cart! The fire department is on the way, but the batteries could combust and burn you guys.”
Jimmy let some guys pile in his golf cart, and Mikey did too. Jimmy motioned for Mikey to follow him, and Jimmy headed for the clubhouse.
“You can just take us back to Club 17,” Bryson said jovially, but Jimmy didn’t listen. He drove straight to the clubhouse over the protests of the other passengers.
When they arrived, Jimmy got out and faced the group. “All members of Club 17 are now banned from the Finch Golf Club.”
“You can’t do that!” Bryson yelled, and the others joined in. “We adopted the golf hole.”
“Adoption cancelled,” Jimmy said. Mikey stood next to Jimmy as backup. Mikey’s usually laid-back attitude gave way to a more intimidating look.
“You’ll pay for this,” Bryson said, but he led the others to the parking lot. Bryson was already scheming his revenge.
The Judgement of the Golf Course
Jimmy, owner of the Finch Golf Club, was once again trying to find someone to adopt Hole 12. This time, a man named Pastel was thinking about putting an outdoor spa along the side of the course.
“The nice thing about this hole being the spa is that it’s kind of secluded,” Jimmy said. “People actually miss this hole sometimes when playing the course.”
“What about the noise from the other holes?” Pastel asked.
Jimmy was trying to find a nice way to say that the hole was right next to a radio station and a haunted house when minor social media influencer and Hole 2 adopter, Max Megaphone, came racing up in his golf cart. Max had his cameraman with him.
“Jimmy, there you are,” Max yelled. He looked into his camera as he spoke. “There’s an emergency over at Hole 8.”
“A real emergency? Because I’m in the middle of something,” Jimmy motioned to his guest.
“I’ll come with you,” Pastel said. He got in the golf cart, and Jimmy followed. Max Megaphone started interviewing Pastel for his channel and was excited to hear about the possible spa. Max asked if it could be an extreme spa.
Hole 8 was a strange place. The site hosted TV shows. They hosted game shows there during the summer. There was a weird golf soap opera filmed on the hole, and there was a show called Golf Court.
Jimmy saw a massive crowd over at Golf Court. It was a TV court drama overseen by Judge Mulligan, and people brought golf disputes, other sports-related disputes, and assorted petty arguments to the judge.
Jimmy got out of the cart and walked over. Everyone seemed to be there—the beekeepers, Nicktor and performers from the Haunted House. The Alternate History Museum and the Decorating Committee had representatives.
As Jimmy walked into the assembled courtroom, he heard DJ Bogey from KHLE 91.3 say, “And now Jimmy, owner of the Finch Golf Club, has arrived. The trial may begin.”
“All Rise,” the TV bailiff yelled. Judge Mulligan walked from behind the set towards his bench.
“Jimmy, go to the table,” Marty, from the decorating committee, said. He motioned to the defense table at the front of the courtroom, where Pat, the scuba instructor and Mikey, the golf coach, sat.
Jimmy walked towards the table and stood. He saw Club 17 members were sitting at the plaintiff’s table, sneering. Jimmy had recently banned the group from the course because they had treated the hole they adopted like a full-time frat party.
“You’re going down,” Bryson, their ringleader, whispered to Jimmy. “Four of us are lawyers, and none of us even drank today.”
Jimmy, in a daze, sat down next to Pat and Mikey. “Are either of you lawyers?”
“No,” Pat said, “But this is TV court.”
Judge Mulligan spoke. “Today we’re here for the trial of Jimmy Finch, owner of the Finch Golf Club. He is accused of overreaching his power as the proprietor of the golf club where we are currently broadcasting this show. The plaintiffs may make their opening statement.”
Jimmy watched as Bryson got up to deliver his opening statement. “People of the courtroom, Judge Mulligan, live TV and Radio Audience, Max Megaphone. We are here today to prove that Jimmy has overstepped his duties in running this golf course. Not only did he ban a group of upstanding restaurateurs, but he also limited his tenants’ ability to redecorate, stopped astrologists from practicing freely, and helped lead to the extinction of bees. Through this trial, we will prove that Jimmy is unfit to make these decisions.”
Bryson sat down, and Judge Mulligan spoke. “Jimmy, you may give your opening statement.”
Jimmy got up and looked at the assembled crowd, made up mostly of people he had put up with for the last couple of years, despite their quirks. The result was that the golf course had descended into chaos. He did all of this so he didn’t have to mow fairways? What was he thinking?
“Hi, everyone,” Jimmy said. “I think I need to remind everyone that I own this golf course. I allowed you to adopt holes so that you could be caretakers of this course with me.”
Jimmy paused. He did not have to do a trial.
“I’m going for a walk. I may end golf hole adoption. I may evict everyone—including this court. I’ll meet all of you at the clubhouse at the end of the day and inform you of my decision.”
Jimmy walked through the assembled court. He realized that he did not have his golf cart. Instead of heading back up from Hole 8, he decided to walk the back nine and think. The courtroom behind him was silent.
Exit Through the Gift Shop
Jimmy was hot and tired by the time he walked all the way to Hole 18. He had put his golf holes up for adoption, and all of the people who adopted the holes had taken him to TV court to try to take that power away from him.
Jimmy walked out of the TV court and spent the long walk up the course thinking about whether he wanted to continue to allow the holes to be adopted.
Jimmy’s dad loved this course and was happy to leave it to Jimmy. The two used to play golf together, and Jimmy’s dad would show him all of his favorite parts of the course.
Jimmy felt bad for letting things get so out of hand. He knew the adoptees’ shenanigans scared off the old regulars and made golfing really difficult. Jimmy himself didn’t play golf anymore.
Hole 18 was a gift shop run by Paige. Technically, it was Jimmy’s hole, but Paige opened the boutique at the end of the hole. Jimmy walked towards it.
Not all of the holes were bad. Hole 3 just had a sign for insurance. Hole 16 was just an avenue for a golf pro to provide lessons. However, Hole 2 was a mad carnival, Hole 15 was overrun by bees, and Hole 17 was a nightmare.
The store sat at the end of the 18th hole. It featured merchandise with the same themes as the adopted holes. The products for hole 1, the one hole that Jimmy had kept, featured basic golf equipment—a smaller version of what you found in the pro shop. Hole 7 included golf-themed tarot cards for sale. Hole 14 featured putters of alternative history events like Crab Liberation Day.
Jimmy wandered through samples of honey and Halloween masks until he found Paige.
“Hi Paige,” Jimmy said. “You didn’t go to the trial?”
“No, I didn’t have anyone to cover the shift. How did it go?”
“I walked out,” Jimmy said. “I’m trying to decide what to do. I have a question for you, though. When golfers come through here—how do they seem? Do they like the course?”
“Some people hate it,” Paige said. “They say it’s the worst 18 holes of their life. But a lot of them, a majority of them, are astounded by it. They can’t believe that they survived it or what they just witnessed. They spend a long time in the gift shop recounting all of the crazy things they saw and did.”
“What do you think?” Jimmy said. “We could just have a normal golf course again with a gift shop at the end of it.”
“Honestly,” Paige said. “I’m not sure what a golf course is for. Is it about the game? Is it about exercise? Is it about novelty? If you know what a golf course is for, you know what to do with it.”
Jimmy looked through all of the items. He noticed the fake gravestones that said things like, “He Putted it Away” and “Fore-gone but not Fore-gotten,”
“Thanks, Paige,” Jimmy said. He walked towards the clubhouse and saw everyone assembled. They were looking at him expectantly.
“I have not made a decision,” Jimmy said, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. “I’m going to take a few days off. Assuming you all don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, I’ll play 18 holes of golf when I return. So you might want to go make sure your holes are in great shape so I can truly experience the Finch Golf Club.”
Fore Goodness Sake
Jimmy dreaded leaving his car. He sat outside the clubhouse of the Finch Golf Club, which he owned. Jimmy looked for a minute at the construction beginning to happen across the street on old farm land. One thing that made the Finch Golf Club unique was how remote it had been—now that seemed to be ending as well.
The Finch Golf Club’s most unique feature was that Jimmy had arranged for people to adopt holes like you adopt pieces of a highway. Each caretaker transformed their hole into their own idea of a golf hole, leading to chaos and a lot of poor golf.
After the proprietors of one of the holes sued Jimmy for kicking them out, Jimmy turned the tables. He told everyone he would play 18 holes of golf and then decide the fate of the adoption program and their many experiments. Jimmy was now ready to play 18 holes—something he had not done since his dad was alive.
Jimmy sighed and got out of the car, getting his dad’s clubs out of the back seat. Usually, the clubhouse was Jimmy’s domain. He was a restaurateur at heart, but today, he did not even want to check in there. Jimmy just went to the first hole. The course appeared relatively empty, but it was 9 AM on a Tuesday.
No one had adopted the first hole. It was Jimmy’s, so that was straightforward. He played through, not even bothering to keep score, but he did note that someone mowed the grass while he was away. All Jimmy had ever really wanted was for someone else to mow the grass on each hole. Maybe arranging to have the holes adopted was not the best way to accomplish that goal.
At the end of the hole sat a giant structure that looked like a white wooden roller coaster. Previously, big red lights flashed, “Max Megaphone’s Hole Two.” Jimmy noticed that it now just said “Hole Two,” and the words no longer flashed. Confused, Jimmy walked through the arch.
Previously, the entire hole looked like a poorly themed carnival. Max Megaphone was a down-on-his-luck influencer who had tried outrageous stunts on his hole. Jimmy was shocked to see that now it just looked like a golf hole. What happened?
Jimmy noted a wooden sign next to the tee box that said, “Hole Two, Adopted by Max Megaphone.”
So Max still claimed the hole, but he cleared out his desperate attempts for page views? Jimmy did not know what to make of this.
Jimmy’s confusion grew as he moved onto hole 3. The biggest sign in the city used to sit on Hole 3. It read, “Hole 3 is proudly adopted by the Reliable Insurance Group. We’re so reliable, it’s in our name!”
Now the sign was gone and replaced by a similar marker to hole 2. “Hole Three, adopted by the Reliable Insurance Group”. Jimmy noted the group had even cut the grass—a fight he constantly had with the insurance agents who really just liked to come out and marvel at the sign.
Hole 4 featured a similar placard for Chip Green, PsyD—a psychologist who had his office on the course. Jimmy noted that the small office was gone!
Jimmy wondered if maybe his trip away had lasted for more than a week. Perhaps it had been years?
Jimmy had seen enough. He felt that maybe they were all making a fool out of him—time to go back to the clubhouse and make some calls.
Just then, he heard a golf cart coming towards him. Nicktor, who ran the Haunted House on Hole 11, was driving. Parker Walsh, who ran the graveyard on Hole 10, sat in the back with Honey from the Hole 15 Pollen Sanctuary.
“Where are you going?” Nicktor asked.
“Back to the clubhouse,” Jimmy said. “Clearly you’re all messing with me.”
Nicktor groaned and put his head in his hands. “No, it’s supposed to be a slow reveal over a long golf game until you come to a realization about our plans on the 17th hole.”
“Well, just tell me what’s going on,” Jimmy said.
Nicktor sighed, “Fine, get in. We’ll show you.”
Clubbed Over the Head
Jimmy was a passenger on the journey to find out what happened to his golf club during his brief hiatus. Frustrated by the people who adopted the golf holes, he’d given them some breathing room. Now all the tenants seem to have gotten together and come up with a plan—they never did when Jimmy was around. He always had to settle disputes.
Jimmy sat in the passenger seat next to Nicktor, who ran the Haunted House on Hole 11. Parker Walsh, who ran the graveyard on Hole 10, sat in the back with Honey from the Pollen Sanctuary on Hole 15th.
They were coming to the end of Hole 4, but Jimmy’s question about why the course seemed more normal had not yet been answered.
They stopped in front of the placard on Hole 5. “Adopted by The Decorating Committee, the official decorators of the Finch Golf Club.” The hole featured toned-down Christmas decorations by the tee box. It was not the garish affair that lit up the day and night the previous year, topped off by a 40-foot inflatable tree by the hole.
“So, the decorating committee has changed its role,” Nicktor said, “They are no longer going to rent the hole out for events. They are going to be responsible for decorating public spaces on the course for free, and will use my Haunted House in the off-season for certain events.”
“What?” Jimmy said. “No more Haunted Houses on Valentine’s Day and Labor Day?”
“No,” Nicktor said. “You’ll see when we pass it, but the Haunted House is going to scale down to just the area off the green to not interfere with golf. – as long as you’ll still have me. I’m going to open a new Haunted Restaurant, so my performers have something to do in the offseason.”
“Where’s the restaurant going?” Jimmy asked. Nicktor didn’t answer.
Honey took the lead as they passed the scuba diving lesson hole. She explained that Pat Muir, the instructor, was moving his operations into an area between holes. They would now in no way interfere with the golfers, but would still scuba dive for the lost balls.
“What about people driving into the lake on Hole 17?” Jimmy asked.
“I don’t think that will be a problem anymore,” Honey replied, but Jimmy did not get an explanation for why not.
“Well, what about the Pollen Sanctuary? Is it the same?” Jimmy asked Honey.
“Well, no,” Honey said. “We’re going to take over planting flowers all over the golf course, but the bees are moving. People will be able to play golf on our hole.”
“Is every hole like this?” Jimmy asked.
“Well, you can see up ahead that the Zodiac statues are still there,” Parker Walsh, the funeral director, chimed in. “And the radio station is still going to broadcast from its hole, but not so loud that everyone can hear it all the time. We’re also moving our headstones.”
“Wait, didn’t you bury people along your hole?” Jimmy asked.
“No, we just had the stones,” Parker said, laughing. “It was really all a silly marketing game. Only a real lunatic has a headstone that says Fore-gone, but not Fore-gotten.”
“My father has that on his headstone,” Jimmy said, laughing.
“Speaking of your father,” Nicktor said. “The Alternative History Museum is moving their stuff out of their hole, but they’re going to create a museum for your father in the clubhouse, documenting what he did for the course.”
Jimmy felt touched by this gesture. “That’s incredibly kind. Will it be a real exhibit, or will they say aliens abducted him?”
“After some negotiating, they’re leaving the aliens out,” Nicktor said with a laugh.
“I don’t know why you’re doing all of this,” Jimmy said, shocked.
The three stayed silent for a moment. Finally, Parker Walsh said, “We need to take him to Club 17.”
“Oh no, is Bryson going to sue me again in TV court?” Jimmy asked.
“Well, there will be some legal documents,” Nicktor said ominously.
Hole 19 and Beyond
Club 17 sat on the 17th hole of the Finch Golf Club. Adopted by lawyers in their 30s trying to live like a college frat, Jimmy banned the group from the Finch Golf Club after they set a golf cart on fire. The whole saga led to a TV court trial. Jimmy was considering scrapping the entire “Adopt a Golf Hole” program and was now being taken on a strange tour of the toned-down version of the adopted golf holes.
Jimmy approached Club 17 in a golf cart with different adopters of holes on the course. They were giving him a tour of the rejuvenated Finch Golf Club. Everyone was behaving and getting along. Jimmy was confused by the change in behavior.
As the golf cart approached the hole, a band started playing, and people were cheering.
“What’s going on?” Jimmy asked.
“It’s a party for you,” Nicktor, who ran the Haunted House hole, said.
“For what?” Jimmy asked.
Jimmy got out of the car, and a crowd mobbed him. All the people who worked at his club and all those who had adopted holes on the course were cheering. Confetti cannons went off. They started a chant of, “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy.”
Jimmy surveyed the scene and thought, “What a strange group”.
Bryson, who had threatened to ruin Jimmy after he was kicked off the golf course, approached. Everyone got really silent.
“Jimmy, I need to apologize and thank you,” Bryson said. “We all do.”
“I accept your apology, but what are you thanking me for?”
“We were all really mad at you when you threatened to take away our holes,” Bryson said. “Then we had a meeting with Mikey, the golf instructor. He’s not just great at golf, he’s a great life coach.”
Mikey, dressed in his Hawaiian shirt, smiled and waved at Jimmy. “Three hours in a room and we solved all of our differences.”
Bryson continued. “Mikey made us see all that you did for us. Jimmy, you were tired of running a golf course, and so you put an idea out there. What if other people adopted golf holes? To you, this was a way to avoid mowing 18 holes. But to every one of your adopters, it was a blank canvas. What’s the perfect golf hole? What would you do if someone gave you land to build your dreams on? It allowed us to try things we never would have if not for your generosity.”
“I never would have been a TV court judge,” Judge Mulligan chimed in.
“I never would have reconciled with my husband over therapy on Hole 4,” yelled a guy Jimmy did not know.
“I never would have discovered that zodiac symbols can help your golf game!” Astrid, from the zodiac hole, said.
“You helped us all live out these dreams,” Bryson said, “even as we made your life and the golf club a nightmare. So we all got together and bought Hole 19 for you, to thank you!”
“What’s Hole 19?” Jimmy asked.
“Oh, of course,” Bryson said. “It’s that plot of land across the street. We’re going to move all of our craziness over there. Mikey, the golf instructor, is going to run it. Among other things, Hole 19 will have a bee sanctuary, a club, a haunted restaurant, TV sets and the craziest minigolf course you’ve ever seen,”
Max Megaphone, the influencer, yelled. “All of our holes here will inspire the minigolf course.”
Nicktor took over. “Plus, we’re taking over operations for the Finch Golf Course. The Reliable Insurance Agency will mow, the Decorating Committee will decorate, and the Pollen Sanctuary will plant flowers. That will give you time to live out your dream here on Hole 17—running a gourmet restaurant.”
Jimmy stood still, in utter shock. He could not believe this group had come together. All the chaos led them to actually make things better for Jimmy after all. “Thank you all.”
“So there’s only one question left,” Bryson said. He pulled out a contract for Hole 19. “Will you adopt us again?”
Jimmy grabbed a pen.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Adopt a Golf Hole
Chapter 2: Live From Hole 13
Chapter 3: A Haunted Valentine’s Day
Chapter 4: Scuba Lessons on Hole 6
Chapter 5: The Doctor Will Tee Up on Hole 4
Chapter 6: The Pollen Sanctuary
Chapter 7: Needs a Good Home
Chapter 8: A Death Fore-Warned
Chapter 9: The Sign on Hole 3
Chapter 10: Hole 5 Closed for Redecoration
Chapter 11: Dressed to the Hole 9
Chapter 12: The House of the Rising Golf Hole
Chapter 13: An Alternative History to Putt
Chapter 14: Bells and Whistles on Hole 2
Chapter 15: A Lesson in Golf Psychology
Chapter 16: The Party Don’t Stop ‘til You Tap In
Chapter 17: The Judgement of the Golf Course
Chapter 18: Exit Through the Gift Shop
Chapter 19: Fore Goodness Sake
Chapter 20: Clubbed Over the Head
Chapter 21: Hole 19 and Beyond