WHITE SPRUCE Chapter 6
More and more, I was feeling like an outsider.
No, not an Outsider. Not one of the wild people. But someone who didn't belong, or didn't fit in. I'd always considered myself a team player, an asset to the community. I followed the rules.
But then Claire had to leave, because the rules were skewed against people like us. And the more I learned, the more I came to realize that I wasn't a member of the team after all. I was a throwback, trying to live by an outdated set of values that the majority of people just didn't subscribe to anymore - if they ever had.
Ibrahim was another outcast, like me. None of our colleagues wanted to work with us, or socialize with us.
The thing is... I didn't feel that I was wrong. I had friends, and friends who were lovers. While I might be a pariah among the perimeter guards, I was pretty popular with a certain group of women. The attraction was mutual, and it wasn't only sexual.
Tess was my friend, too, even if she did have the habit of dropping bombs on me. Actually, it was more like slaps to the side of my head, as she tried to wake me up, or at least open my eyes. She gave me far too much food for thought; I was feeling stuffed. Overwhelmed, maybe.
But many of my thoughts were more pleasant: I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky. I had four lovers. Four at the same time. They weren't jealous of each other (or at least they didn't show it). They shared me. Now, none of them were like Claire, in the sense of being my soulmate, or even my girlfriend (though I suspected that Ashra wanted to be). But I could hardly complain, could I?
For a few months I did my best to spend time with them equally. It wasn't all sex; I made an effort to arrange 'dates' for them, whether it be dinner together, a walk in the woods, or a movie night. There just weren't that many options at White Spruce, if you counted out the Sand Trap - and who wants to go on a date to the place they regularly hang out with their friends? (or, in Alicia's case, where she worked).
And since I could only see each girl about once a week, or maybe five times a month, they usually didn't want to waste the opportunity to have sex. It was once a week for them, but four or five times a week for me. In addition to the quantity, I had four lovers with very different preferences and love-making styles.
Nicole was tiny, but aggressive, with a serious oral fixation. Alicia was voluptuous, with enormous breasts and a willingness to experiment. Anne had a fine body, and preferred gentle love-making preceded by slow, soft, and lengthy foreplay. Ashra had perhaps the best body of all, and the most enthusiastic, energetic approach. But she was also willing to accept direction, and try other ways with me.
So despite my troublesome thoughts, and my sense of isolation from the larger community, it was like I had my own little tribe to belong to. Tess and Celine were full members of our crew, although there was no sexual element between them and me. We had a few other friends who would join us for the occasional party, and I made an effort to include Ibrahim in events that didn't centre too much around alcohol (which wasn't always easy, because there weren't very many of those).
My life was pretty darn good. So obviously Fate was preparing to play a dirty trick on me.
***
Ibrahim and I were on the day shift, and we'd just reached the end of the South Perimeter Road, at the school and daycare centre. We turned around to begin another circuit. About a thousand yards later, we were preparing to cross the bridge over the stream.
The clubhouse, a large and luxurious building, occupies the very centre of the entire White Spruce compound, facing north-east. Right beside it, on the eastern side, is White Spruce Lake. There are two 18-hole golf courses, North and South. Both courses finish beside the lake, with scenic greens next to the clubhouse, so that members and guests can enjoy a drink or a meal on the balcony or in the indoor restaurant and bar while they watch the foursomes coming in.
There is also a stream, running from the south into the lake, which cuts across several holes on the South course. Still, the South course is considered the easier of the two, and several blocs of tee-off times are reserved for female members and guests during the weekdays. This was one of those times.
As we drove by the gap in the trees, we both heard raised voices. Ibrahim, who was driving, immediately braked. Given what we saw, we had no option but to approach.
The stream was neither deep nor wide, but somehow, one of the golfers on the 5th hole had managed to drive her cart into it. The two front tires had gone in, while the back tires just barely clung to the bank of the stream; the cart sat at a rather odd-looking 45 degree angle.
This was not as rare an occurrence as you might think; many of the men liked to drink while they played a round - and some of them drank far too much. Every year, several carts had to be pulled out of the lake or the stream, and quite a few more ended up tipped over on their side, or even upside down.
The golfers weren't usually drunk by the 5th hole, though. Somehow, this driver had driven straight into the stream, unfortunately tipping herself and her passenger into the water - along with a number of their golf clubs.
- "Call it in." I said. "Clubhouse first, then call for a med team, just in case."
- "Got it." said Ibrahim. He knew the drill, but it was better to be safe than sorry. While he called it in, I went to see what help I could offer.
One woman was standing in the knee-deep water, next to her partner, who was sitting down. The two other members of their foursome had driven over to see what was going on. They'd gotten out of their cart, but seemed content to observe rather than do something useful. In fact, they appeared to be more amused by the situation than concerned.
- "What the hell, Louise?" said one of them.
- "There was a bee." said the woman standing in the water. "I panicked. You know how I get with flying insects."
I should probably mention that these women were all the wives or companions of golf club members (or guests). Trophy wives. The pair in the stream looked to be in their early thirties, while the two on the bank appeared to be even younger. All four were very attractive; two were stunning.
It wasn't part of my job to be distracted by that, and I doubt that they would have appreciated being ogled by the hired help. I jumped straight into the shallow stream.
- "Are you hurt, Ma'am?"
Louise - the woman standing - looked at me. "She can't stand up."
I knelt in the water next to the seated woman. "Are you injured, Ma'am? Help is on the way."
- "It's my ankle. I can't put any weight on it."
- "I'd like to get you out of the water, but I don't want to risk injuring you any more. Can you tell me if it hurts anywhere else? Could you check with your hands? Feel if there are any other sore spots?"
- "Just my pride, I think" she said. But she did as I asked, feeling her legs under the water. I let her carry out a brief self-exam.
- "Then I'll pick you up, Ma'am, and carry you to the bank. Then we can get a better look at that ankle. If it's alright with you, I'll put one arm under your knees, and one behind your lower back. It would help if you could wrap your arms around my neck. But you have to tell me right away if I cause you the least bit of pain."
- "Alright." she said.
She was soaked, and her clothing was clinging to her body in a very distracting manner. But she wasn't very heavy at all. I picked her up easily.
- "Ooh." said one of the women on the bank. "Muscles. Way to go, Shelly."
I was more worried about my footing in the stream, but I got her to the edge without incident, and sat her on the grass. Ibrahim was already there, with a blanket to wrap around her. I knew better than to try to remove her shoe; that was a job best left to the medical technicians.
Two guards from the clubhouse drove up shortly after that, with a replacement cart. Only a minute later, two medical technicians arrived.
- "You can go back to your patrol." said one of the Clubhouse guards. In other words, piss off - we'll take over here.
Shelly had some manners. "Thank you!" she called out.
That was the end of our involvement in the matter. I used another blanket to dry off as best I could, and Ibrahim and I drove off.
Well, that wasn't quite the end of it. A day later, we received a generous tip from the lady we'd helped (or her husband): a free drink at the Sand Trap for the two of us.
I offered to buy Ibrahim's chit from him, but he only smirked and passed it to me. I ended up having two drinks at the bar, courtesy of Shelly (I think), and told my friends the story.
And then I pretty much forgot about the whole thing.
***
Two days later - our day off - I was awoken by a call from Captain Stanton.
- "Mike: get yourself down to the medical clinic. Be there by 10:00."
- "Is there a problem?"
- "It's not a problem. You've got an appointment for a physical."
