Golf In A Parallel Universe (35 page)

Finally the plane landed. My first place I was to be staying was in Chicago. They took me to a high-rise apartment building. This was my home for the next few days. They already had the place stocked with food. And to my surprise even beer was in the fridge. “Well at least I got beer” I said laughing to myself. However, decided, I will not be doing any drinking the next several days. Probably not a good idea, I don’t want to get in a situation where I am drowning my sorrows. Besides, I do not like to drink during bad times. Agent Keller told me that they will be monitoring me. He told me that I will not usually see them, but they will be around.

“If you want to go out. Let us know. Tomorrow we will have someone here that will fix a disguise for you so you can go out when you want. For now, just get some rest. Any questions?," he asked. “Nope, I think I got it," I replied sadly. “Look Mr. Galloway. I am sure this will be all over soon and you will be able to get back to your life. They are hot on Dafford Hilton's trail and he will be caught soon. "Thanks” I replied. We shook hands, and they left.

I looked out the window. I cannot believe I am here. I am so exhausted and I need to sleep. I have jet lag from traveling clear across the world. And I am not feeling all that well from the party last night on the plane, and now all of this. I just can’t believe all of this is happening. Then I remember that I need to call Emily. I know she was expecting me back in Orlando by now and probably wondering why I have not called her. I texted her first and ask if she was available to talk. She replied that she was. I called, and she answered enthusiastically. “How’s my British Open Champion doing” she said. “I am doing OK” I said trying to keep a positive tone. We had normal chit chat for a couple of minutes, I was not sure how to tell her about all of this. “You OK?” she asked. “You sound a little down.”

“Well. I am a little tired for sure. However I got something to tell you about a situation that is going on right now," I replied. “OK” she said. “What's going on?" I filled her in on the whole story about how Dafford Hilton’s escaped and I am now in protective custody. She hardly said a word as I was explaining all of this to her. I also told her the FBI and the police will be contacting her and they will be keeping an eye on her. Then I could hear her crying. I am 32-year-old single guy and have not really seen a lot of women cry in my life. So I really did not know what to do. Except I wanted to cry as well. But I was able keep myself together. I just told her that this will be all over and I will be back home in no time. She was able to regroup, and we just talked for a long time. It was really good talking to her, I just wish I was with her. I really feel closer to her than ever.

After we hung up, I felt a little better. But I was so exhausted. By this time it was about 4:00pm. I took a shower and just went to bed. I just crashed. I was so exhausted that I slept all night. No dreams at all. When I woke up the next morning and felt a lot better. I drank some coffee and looked out the window at the view of Chicago. I was able to think straight now. Yesterday was so bizarre. And trying to process all that emotionally after a long international flight, half hungover was just about impossible. So I started thinking about it. “Should I be sad, or should I be feeling sorry for myself? Or should I be pissed off?” I felt a little of both. Mostly pissed off.

I cooked myself some breakfast. Then I watched TV a bit and I just did not know what to do. I was getting more upset about this whole situation. “Why me?” I told myself. The more I thought about it, the more upset I got. Then I started thinking about my golf schedule. “Ok what day is this?," I asked myself. I finally figured out it is July 21st. I pull out my schedule. My internal time clock and calendar is all messed up. The last few days have been so crazy with being overseas for a month and then coming back here and have all this crazy stuff happen to me. “Let me see” I say to myself as I am pulling out my schedule. I take a look. My next tournament is suppose to be the World Golf Championships-Bridgestone Invitational in Akron Ohio. That is scheduled Monday July 28th through August 3rd. “ Monday is the 3rd for practice rounds, and competition starts on Thursday 31st. “So that's next week” I tell myself. The follow week is the Reno-Tahoe Open. I take a look at what tournament is after that. “Damn it!” I screamed out loud. “The follow week is the PGA Championship!” I come to realize that the PGA Championship, which is the last of the four Major golf tournament is just three of weeks away. So here I have a chance to be the first person in history to win the Grand Slam in modern golf history. And I am stuck here in protective custody.

I really start to stress. I walk around the apartment trying to figure this out. Maybe they will catch him the next few days, then I will be free. Finally I decide to take a nap. Having to stay cooped up in this apartment is driving me crazy, at least I can catch up on my sleep. I go to sleep pretty fast because I am exhausted. I have crazy dreams. Those dreams come back again where I am in a small town with my family of wife and two kids. The dreams in the past have always vague, but now it seem more clear and more real. I can almost see the faces clearly. And the dreams are so strange. I see everyone and they seem to be worried. The wife is concerned and the kids are crying. And I hear say the same thing over and over “Come home," “Come Home." I try to tell them that I am home here with them. I ask them why they keep telling me to come home. This seems to go on forever. Finally I wake up and I am drenched in sweat. I lay in bed and think about my dreams. I know that I have been having these same dreams the last few months but now they are stronger and stronger.

The next couple of days, I just stay in the apartment. I make a few phone calls, I talk to Emily a few times. I also talk to Zack. He told me he will be ready when I am free from this mess. I walk around in the apartment and that little voice in my head which always comes out when I am playing golf is now talking to me. And it is saying “Let’s go home” “Let's go home." Also my ears seem to be ringing very loud and it will not stop. I am stressed and I really think I am starting to lose it. I decide that I have to get out of here. I put on the disguise they made for me. I laugh when I look in the mirror. They have me set up to look like an older man with gray hair and a beard. I will definitely not be recognized.

I take a walk through the city. That voice keeps saying over and over and over “Let’s go home, Let's go home.” As I am walking I start getting more stressed out. I see people looking at me as I walk by. The busy traffic, the car horns honking really make me anxious. I feel lost. I go into a couple of stores to look around, but I have no interest on being here. I feel paranoid. I decide to get out of here and go back to the apartment. I unlock the door, then close it and lock it. Then I just lean back to the closed door. The voice is really getting to me. I put my hands to my ears and just yell “Stop!." And to my surprise the voice stops. At least for awhile. It comes back later, and it is the same thing over and over again.

I start to think about my golf schedule again. I really need to play in the World Golf Championship-Bridgestone next week. It will be a good warm up for the PGA Championship. If I cannot make that, I just hope they catch Dafford Hilton in time for me to make the PGA Championship. I start thinking about all of this and I am really stressing out. And this voice will not go away. I yell back at the voice. I feel like there are two of me and I am fighting with myself. As the hours go by, I feel like I am going to lose it. I pick up a golf club. The living room of this apartment has a high ceiling so I can swing the club. It feels good to swing. At least I can keep my muscles loose for a few days doing this. And when I swing that little voice seems to get happy. Not whining so much about going home. “I am really losing it” I tell myself.

A little later my cell phone rings. I see that it is Jerry Churchill . A couple of days ago, I would have had no interest in talking with him. But now I am ready and happy to talk to him. I answered the phone. “How’s it going Champ?", he asked in a cheerful voice. I told him I am fine and I am dealing with it. He told me that he will help out in whatever way he can. We talked for awhile about things. Then he asked me in a more serious tone. “Jim, how are doing." I told him that I am fine. However I feel stressed out and I am somewhat confused. “Well, I want talk to you," he said. “I know exactly what you are going through. Let me guess. You feel like there are two of you, right? And you hear voices, right?," he asked. “Right”!, I yelled out “You talked to Zack didn't you?! I was pissed because Zack is the only person that I told about this. And I did not want him to tell anyone. “No, not at all” he replied. “However I am glad you talked to someone about this. I know it gave you some temporary peace. “Look, I know Zack had to talk to you about this, I have not told anyone else” I replied with an upset tone. “Jim, let me tell you what I know, he said calmly. He proceeded to tell me how I feel. He went over the dreams and the voice. He went over the emotions that I have been feeling the last few months. He went over how I have felt at certain times. He told me how these strange emotions get stronger after an emotional event such as winning a golf tournament or if something bad happens. He went over how I feel much more in detail than what I explained to Zack a few days ago. After he spoke for a few minutes he paused. “Any of this sound familiar” he asked. At that point I knew that he knows something.

“Yes” I replied. I told him that I always had the feeling that he knows something about what I am going through. “I know you have Jim” he replied. “I wanted to find a good time to talk to you, but it has been difficult. “Look” he said. “We need to talk in person. As you know I am the one person authorized to see you. Is it OK if I come to your location tomorrow?," he asked. “Yes” I replied. He told me he has already checked on a flight and he will leave early in the morning and he will be here around noon tomorrow. “Don’t worry about the details” He said in a more happy tone. “Your crack FBI team will make all the arrangements to take me to your location. They have already filled me in on all the Protocol on how all this stuff works."

“Ok sounds good, I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow." I told him. “I will bring lunch. What sounds good to you?” he asked. “Man!” I replied. I could go for a good fast food burger. I have been cooped up in this apartment cooking for myself." “Consider it done," he replied. Then he paused. “Jim the only thing I can tell you now. Is to keep an open mind. Because I am going to tell you some things that will not make sense. I agreed and we said goodbye and we hung up. After we hung up I felt better. For the next few hours I tried to figure out how in the world he knows this stuff about me. I tried to think about this logically. I know it has to be some type of emotional or psychological issue going on with me. I was planning on seeing a psychologist when I got back from the British Open but now I am stuck here. So I start thinking that there has to be something on how a person’s emotions responds after a big event, such as winning a major golf tournament. The moment I won the Masters is when things starting getting weird. I start thinking. Since Jerry Churchill has won nine majors, he must have experienced the same thing. “But why doesn't he just tell me that, and recommend I see a shrink?," I ask myself.

“Oh, well” I tell myself. I spend the rest of the day swinging a golf club in the apartment. That voice in my head seems to like that. Finally, I decide to call Zack to ask him if he had talked to Jerry or anyone else about this. I feel he had to tell Jerry or someone about this. And Jerry heard if from someone else. I dial his number. I think to myself that I need to be calm and not get upset and accuse him of anything. And if he admits he did talk to Jerry or someone, I need to not get upset. I call and he picks up. “Hey Jim, how are you doing” he asked. I told him I am fine and we chit chat for a couple of minutes. Then I am ready to ask. “Hey Zack, I got a question for you’. I told him. “What's up?," he replied. “You know when I told you about those weird things that have been going through with the voice in my head and the dreams and things?”

“Yeah sure," he replied curiosity. “Did you tell anyone about that?," I asked. “Absolutely not, not even my wife” he replied. “Are you sure about that Zack?," I replied in a stern tone. “Yeah, Jim. I am telling you I have not told anyone about this. What's going on?, he asked. I took a deep breath, and I calmed down. I was satisfied with his response. I explained to him about the conversation I had with Jerry Churchill . That he described the exact same things that I am experiencing and that he is coming up tomorrow and we are going to discuss it. "I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to say. How would he know all this? he replied.

“Good question. Things are just so weird. I just do not understand how he would know these things.” “Well, keep me posted” he replied. I told him I will let him know what happens. We talked couple of minutes longer. I told him to be ready for the PGA Championship. Hopefully Dafford Hilton will be caught soon. The we will make our way to the Valhalla Golf club in Louisville Kentucky in a few days. He told me he will be ready to go at a moment's notice and we said goodbye.

I eat dinner and go to bed anticipating on what tomorrow is going to be like. I fall asleep and the dreams are stronger than ever. My family tells me to come home. But I want to go play golf. I go to the small town golf course and it seems so familiare. I have had these dreams for months and now I know each hole. I even remember the holes when I am awake. I dream about playing and I cannot hit the ball very well. I am an amateur or a hacker. It feels so terrible to hit the ball this way. But it feels so familiar to me. I dream about going home from the golf course after my round and always so happy to see my wife and kids. But they are sad and keep telling me to come home. And I am confused because I just came home. I keep telling them that I am already home but no one listens to me. They just keep crying. The dream just keeps going over and over and never seems to end.