| General Fiction posted July 3, 2023 | Chapters: |
Prologue 2 -3- 4... 
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13th century Holland
A chapter in the book Saving Mr. Calvin
Saving Mr. Calvin c3: Arie Papin
by Jim Wile
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.| Background A story about the origin and the future of the game of golf |
See Author Notes for the list of characters
Recap of Part 1: The year is 2032, and young Kevin Parsons, living in Santa Barbara, CA, has invited his two good friends, Paul Putnam and Ernie (Dumbo) Dumbrowski for breakfast and a round of golf afterwards. Over breakfast, the three engineers lament the sorry state of golf courses in not only California but in the rest of the country, as presumably non-golfing environmentalists are destroying the game, without specifically banning it, by destroying its field of play.
They go to the golf course, which is in terrible shape due to the lack of water and other restrictions, and meet Art Calvin, a retired golf course architect who actually designed the course they are playing. He joins the boys, and they begin their round. When they reach the 7th hole, Kevin hooks his tee shot out-of-bounds. He can see it resting on the other side of an old railroad trestle. The chapter ends as he walks beneath the trestle to go retrieve his ball.
Seeing my intention, old Art Calvin said to me, “Have a care when you are there. We’ll see you back in no time.”
I thought this a rather peculiar remark. Have a care when I was there? Where? On the other side of the trestle? And wasn’t it rather obvious I’d be back in no time? I was just going to pop on through, retrieve my ball, and be right back. The others probably wouldn’t even notice my being gone. As I pondered this, I carefully made my way down the bank, passed under the old trestle, and…
Chapter 3
Near Amsterdam, Holland
1247
“Come back here, Kilian Pauls. Just wait ‘til I get me mitts on you, you klootzak!”
I had just exited the wood and was running at a moderate clip, but I wasn’t worried that those oafs would capture me. They may have been big, but they weren’t very fast. As I turned to see just how far behind they were, I didn’t notice a rut that was a few steps in front, and when my left foot hit it, I went down hard. I couldn’t stay down long though, or they would surely catch up, and who knows what kind of pounding I would receive if they caught me?
As I started to scramble up, I heard a high-pitched voice calling, “Boy! Boy! Over here.” I didn’t see anyone, but I made for the voice. There was a large hill over on the right about 30 steps ahead with a band of trees near the bottom of it, and I figured the voice came from over behind the trees. I rounded the trees and saw a small head disappearing into a hole in the ground at the base of the hill. It turned around, facing me and said, “Down here. Quickly.”
I scrambled down the hole and came face-to-face with a red-haired girl. Instantly, her arm flew up, grabbed some branches lying on the surface of the ground next to the hole and pulled them across, covering it up and blocking out most of the sunlight. I was pressed tightly up against her in the narrow space, but I couldn’t see her very well as my eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark.
“They’ll never find us down here,” she said.
“Are you a wood elf?” I asked her.
“No, silly. I’m a girl. Sshh, now. I hear those boys clomping about nearby.”
Standing next to her in the near-dark with our bodies pressed together like that, I began feeling all fluttery inside. I had never stood so close to a girl before. Her hair smelled like lilacs, and her breath was sweet. A stirring began taking place in my breeches.
Just then we heard a muffled, “Beats me where the little varmint went. I thought we’d see ‘im when we made it ‘round these trees, but mebbe he turned and ran up through the woods.”
“Shall we chase ‘im up the hill?”
“Nah, forget ‘im. I’m too tuckered.”
“Why we chasin’ ‘im anyway? What’d he say to ya when ya pinched that scroll off ‘im?”
“He says ‘You need a scroll about as much as a fish needs klogs.’”
“I don’t get it.”
“Never mind, you booby. C’mon, let’s go back.”
I could feel the girl shaking with suppressed laughter, and I started shaking too. We tried holding it in as best we could, but we kept silently laughing in the dark for another minute or so until we were convinced that they were gone. Then she reached up and removed the branches covering the hole we were in and we both burst out laughing.
I pulled myself up out of the hole first, then I reached down, grabbed her hand, and helped pull her out. We both brushed ourselves off, then I stood and just looked at her.
She was like a little gamine—lean and wiry with a pixie face. Bright, long red hair, a scattering of freckles across her little nose and cheeks, and lovely green eyes that sparkled when she laughed. She looked about my age, perhaps 13 or 14. It was hot out, this being mid-summer, and she wore only a short, brown, sleeveless tunic and was barefoot. I had never seen her before.
“Who are you?” I asked her.
“A wood elf,” she said and began laughing again. I started laughing along with her.
“Well, my name is Kilian Pauls, even if you won’t tell me yours. Where do you live? I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live on that farm over there,” she said, raising her thin arm and pointing vaguely to the east. “We used to live north of here. Arie Papin is my name.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Arie. I am Kilian Pauls.”
“Yes, you said that. And I am Arie Papin again.”
“Well, now that we’ve settled that, why did you call out?”
“I was exploring, and I saw those big boys chasing you. When you fell, you looked like you needed help. I knew of this narrow entry to a cave, which I had been in before, so I called to you to hide in there.”
“I’ve been all over these hills and never knew of a cave here.”
“That’s because you’re a boy and don’t notice things like girls do. I have to go home now, Kilian Pauls; I have chores to do, and my pa will be angry if I am not home soon. Maybe we shall meet again.”
And just like that, she ran off leaving me standing there.
What to make of this? I forgot all about my sheep or the scroll I had been writing on, which had been so rudely snatched from me by that oaf, Lard Jansen. Instead, all I could think about was Arie Papin and that exciting way she made me feel when we were pressed up against each other in the cave entrance.
I didn’t have any experience with girls my age. I was a shepherd boy and spent most of the day with my flock and with the other shepherd boys like my brothers, as well as Lard and Rube, the two boys who were chasing me. I had a baby sister at home, and there was my mother of course, but they were about all I knew of girls.
I watched her fleeting little figure as she crested a hill in the distance and was then lost to sight. My goodness, how I hoped we would meet again. I was determined to make that happen.
klootzak: roughly translated as asshole.
CHARACTERS
Kilian Pauls: A 14-year-old shepherd boy in 1247 Holland.
Arie Papin: A 13-year-old farmgirl in 1247 Holland.
Lars (Lard) Jansen: A fellow shepherd boy and friend of Kilian.
Ruben (Rube) Meijer: Another shepherd boy and friend of Kilian.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. CHARACTERS
Kilian Pauls: A 14-year-old shepherd boy in 1247 Holland.
Arie Papin: A 13-year-old farmgirl in 1247 Holland.
Lars (Lard) Jansen: A fellow shepherd boy and friend of Kilian.
Ruben (Rube) Meijer: Another shepherd boy and friend of Kilian.
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