Now Dannie was in a little over her head.
The pro must've wondered who these jokers were. Still, he turned and started to walk toward the pro shop.
"You see," interjected Cementhead, "we play every year here with ol' Doc Dingsby on Sept. 13, 'cause that is the day we saved each other's lives."
Dannie and the pro turned to Cementhead. Dannie's eyes were filled with horror.
"Lives?" the pro asked.
"Lives," said Cementhead. "It was at a convention in Mauna Kea. We were part of a medical group of about a dozen or so that went on a fishing cruise. Unfortunately, a terrible storm came up, and the boat flipped. The four of us—total strangers—wound up clutching one small lifesaver that barely kept us afloat. We decided the only way we could survive the holy terror...."
"And the hypothermia," said Dannie.
"...was by taking our minds off the situation," Cementhead continued, much to Thud's and Dannie's utter amazement. "We talked about anything we could think of, the future, our plans, anything but the present. We all imagined what we would be doing a week from then, and all four of us said, 'You know what? Enjoying a nice round of golf.' We then spent the next two hours talking about courses we'd played and games we'd had and still hoped to have. We decided then and there, bobbing up and down in those waters...."
"Shark-infested waters," said Dannie.
"...that if we made it out of this predicament alive, we would all four play golf on that date, each and every year, no matter what. It was golf that saved us, so we decided we should play golf to celebrate our survival."