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Children's Stories
by Margo Fallis
Ian & Mac Stories - Fore!

Ian pushed his way past Mac, nearly knocking him over. He ran ahead and stopped to pick something up. "I found a ball!" he cried, holding it up to show Mac.

"It’s kind of small, isn’t it?" Mac asked, walking up to Ian.

"Yes, it’s small and white and covered with tiny indentations. It’s hard and it doesn’t bounce on the grass," Ian said after dropping it to see if it did.

"What a strange ball," Mac said. Ian held it in his hand as they walked through the grass.

"Ian, this grass is very short. This is a strange place. I wonder where we are?" Mac asked, confused. Neither of them saw the sign that said ‘GOLF COURSE’.

They climbed to the top of a small hill. It was flat on top and covered with very short green grass. "Why, this grass looks and feels like carpet," Mac said, bending down to touch it. "What’s this pole?" he asked. It had a small triangular flag at the top. "It seems to be sticking out of a hole. How unusual."

Ian was enjoying himself, rolling down the hill. Suddenly he heard, "Watch out!" Mac screamed. Just then a ball came flying towards Ian. He fell flat to the ground and the ball barely missed him. "Now where did that come from?" Mac wondered.

Ian lifted his head and asked, "Is it safe to get up now?"

Mac ran after the ball. "It’s another one of those white balls. It just came whizzing by."

They both heard someone call the word, ‘Fore!’ Mac looked up and saw a ball flying towards him. "Oh look, here’s another." The ball landed near his feet. He picked it up. "My goodness," he said, "There’s another, and another," Mac said, picking them up. "Why, that is four balls," he smiled, wondering why he’d heard someone call the number four. "I wonder where they are coming from?"

Ian stood up and a ball flew through the air and landed on the short grass, just near the pole. "Look, Mac. Here’s one here too. It almost went into the hole here." He picked it up and walked over to Mac. "We’ve got a lot of balls. I’ll bet if we look around, we’ll find more," Ian said, excited.

The two raccoons walked all over the golf course, picking up balls. They soon had too many to carry so they made a pile of them behind a rowan tree. "Wow!" Ian exclaimed. "We’ve got a hundred balls here. What are we going to do with them?"

Three men dressed in tartan pants, white shirts with vests, and tams on their heads came running towards the raccoons. "What do you think you are doing, taking our balls?" one man screamed.

"His balls?" Ian said. "I don’t see his name on it," he added. He picked up one of the balls and it had some writing on it. "Oops. It does have a name on it," he noticed, reading the name. "We’d better get out of here."

"You’re right," Mac said, already running into the woods. "I don’t think its safe there. We’d better stay off that short grass. It’s not a place for raccoons. Are you in the mood for Edinburgh?" Mac asked.

"Sure. We’ve not been there for months," Ian said.

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Mac said and ran off towards the big city.

Ian followed Mac, making sure he didn’t see the one ball he still held in his hand. "I’ll show that guy. I’m keeping one of his balls for a souvenir," Ian chuckled silently to himself and then ran up to join Mac.

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