E VA N M A N D E R Y
Chapter 22 ***
A
F TER MAL MANIPUL ATED DAVID into scrapping his dream of attend-
ing the Penn State summer writing program, David’s interest in golf transformed from dispassionate and technical to obsessive
and fervid. Once recess started, he began arriving at dawn at the driving range where he’d continue hitting balls until the sun set or his hands bled, whichever came first, as if he could beat his demons into submission with a five-iron. Rage can’t carry you to the summit of golf, but it can get you pretty close. David had enough pent-up anger that summer to strangle many a man-sized course into submission. In July, he won a local amateur tournament, finished second in two others, and shot a course-record 63 in the West Penn Amateur at Seth Raynor’s brutal Fox Chapel. The entire summer built up toward the State Open. By the time it came around in early August, David had every reason to believe he could win. He entered Latrobe Country Club, the sister course to his own stomping ground, with confidence and purpose. He’d win the damned trophy and tell his father—who hadn’t made any further overtures in the direction of building their relationship—where he could stick it. David stood on the first tee, driver in hand, overflowing with a potent mixture of determination and hatred. He heard a voice say, “Good morning.” It 233