Knights of Light
Copyright 2012 Mark Moreland
The right way to begin is to pay attention to the young, and make them just as good as possible. - Socrates
The desert sky turns crimson as the searing sun begins to set in the northern part of the valley of the sun in Arizona. Sixteen year old Schuyler O’Brien dutifully greets golfers returning from their rounds as the newly minted supervisor of the bag drop area of Quail Valley Ranch Golf and Country Club. Part of his plan he supposes given that his girl friend’s grandfather owns the club, and developed the entire community where he now lives.
“Hey Sky, great catch there in the state playoff game last year,” says a well-tanned patron with a gold pinkie ring. “Keep it up and there’ll be more where this came from.” He places a crisp $20 into the palm of his hand.
“Thanks,” he replies looking around as he places it in his pocket. As soon as the man is out of earshot, he mutters “Great catch, you’re damned right old man.” Unexpectedly, a tingle goes up his spine. Then he shakes his head. He’s not only beginning to accept the accolades, but a part of him is beginning to expect them. Focus on myself, and I’ll keep the dark voices in my head at bay, he muses. “You’ll never live up to him. You’ll never be as good as Kev.” The voices sneak in. No, Schuyler thinks, I’ll be better, and worse. I mean why be the nice guy when all it gets you is killed. I’m here to grab the things in life, before they grab me – that’s the way I see it.