I Guess We’ll See – Sort of Short Stories

By: Austyn Watts (My Granddaughter)

My clubs didn’t even reach the strap when we tried to strap them in. His were so much taller than mine, so many more clubs inside. I really only went to watch him, the ball soaring as it connected with the club, the country music playing on the speaker that connected to the cart. I had to sit on his lap to be able to steer the cart when we drove to his shot, my dad and I on the golf course.

“Did it go far?” I asked my dad from the cart as he walked back, club in hand. “I guess we’ll see.” he replied with a smile, starting to drive the cart to his shot. I remember watching him, envious of how far he hit it, the loud sound of the club connecting with the ball. I turn the wheel while on his lap and suddenly he’s in the passenger seat. My foot suddenly reached the pedal, my little pink bag turning into my high school logo.

The loud sound of the ball and club come but it’s not his club this time, it’s mine. I’m older now, I don’t need extra strokes on holes when we play together. I’m older now, I play with girls my age, for my school. I’m older now, I look forward to the times we both can play together. I’m older now.

The loud sound of the ball connecting with the club, the ball souring down the middle. I walk back to the cart, club in hand as the familiar country music plays. “Did it go far?” my dad asks, a proud grin on his face. “I guess we’ll see.” I reply, a smile on my face as I press the gas, driving down the middle of the fairway

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