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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.

"Itís kind of small, isnít it?" Mac asked, walking up to Ian.

"Yes, itís small and white and covered with tiny indentations. Itís hard and it doesnít 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 ĎGOLF COURSEí.

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. "Whatís 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. "Itís another one of those white balls. It just came whizzing by."

They both heard someone call the word, ĎFore!í Mac looked up and saw a ball flying towards him. "Oh look, hereís another." The ball landed near his feet. He picked it up. "My goodness," he said, "Thereís another, and another," Mac said, picking them up. "Why, that is four balls," he smiled, wondering why heíd 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. Hereís one here too. It almost went into the hole here." He picked it up and walked over to Mac. "Weíve got a lot of balls. Iíll bet if we look around, weíll 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. "Weíve 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 donít 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. "Weíd better get out of here."

"Youíre right," Mac said, already running into the woods. "I donít think its safe there. Weíd better stay off that short grass. Itís not a place for raccoons. Are you in the mood for Edinburgh?" Mac asked.

"Sure. Weíve 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 didnít see the one ball he still held in his hand. "Iíll show that guy. Iím keeping one of his balls for a souvenir," Ian chuckled silently to himself and then ran up to join Mac.

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