Seven Days

Chapter 1: Wednesday Reginald “Reggie” Weston kneeled and closed his eyes. He reached out his right hand and delicately brushed against the grass on the first hole tee ground in veneration. It was a freezing June morning at the Blue Course of the Virginia Beach Resort. The air smelled of dew and grass, along with a rare mix of adrenaline and promises. In a nutshell, it smelled of golf. The young American opened his eyes and smiled. He was twenty-two years old and just a rookie. He had started the pro circuit, the famous PGA, a year earlier, but knew the quiver shaking his body every time he held the club in his hands was the same one felt by more seasoned players. “A great course, isn’t it?” The voice behind him interrupted Reggie’s private moment, forcing him to turn. “Yeah, it’ll be a privilege to play here,” he answered, smiling at his caddie, Carlos Marquez. Carlos was a family friend and had taken Reggie under his wing since the very first time he picked up a golf club. Over the years the two had developed a relationship more like uncle and nephew than player and caddie. It was Carlos Marquez—thirty-seven years old, with a strong body and an olive-colored complexion—who took care of Reggie when he was down, but Carlos was also the one who gave him a slap on the wrist when he messed up. “If we don’t make the cut in the second round, we’ll go have fun on the beach before going back home,” Carlos declared happily, snapping his fingers. “We’ll make the cut. And we’ll also have good placing on Sunday,” Reggie grumbled, wrinkling. “That’s my young man,” Carlos shouted with his foghorn voice, playfully nudging Reggie with his shoulder. “Come on, I reserved the putting green from ten to eleven,” he added. Reggie nodded before taking a last look of love and respect at the just-renovated course. Yes, it would be an unforgettable week.