Chas played just as well the rest of the day as he had on the front nine. All the anger and frustration built up into a well played round of golf, and when he walked off the last tee and looked at the scoreboard at the clubhouse, he was floored.

"That can't be right," he said to Arthur, his eyes widening.

Arthur chuckled. "Kid…you really underestimate yourself," he said, walking away. John walked up next to Chas, taking a long look at the complex board of numbers.

"Yours is at the top," he commented, pointing to the board.

"Uh huh."

"And…William Dextera is below that."

William Dextera, also known as Balthazar. "That's right," Chas said quite numbly.

John hesitated. "You beat him?"

Chas cringed. "It's just the qualifying round, John. All that means is that I'm going to the state tournament. And it's only by one stroke."

"But you beat him."

For the first time that day, Chas smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

You forget, John, that it's a two round tournament over two days. That's a lot of room for error.

---------- Later That Evening ---------

Chas had just finished getting his gold medal for being top qualifier and had sat through an hour of getting information for the tournament, and he finally headed out to his cab, tiredly dragging his clubs along.

Someone suddenly grabbed him from behind and dragged him between two buildings, and his golf bag dropped to the ground as the man slammed him up against the wall.

The guy had to be 6'4 and 300 pounds, a hunk of walking muscle. His grip felt like a vice on Chas's shoulders.

"You've got a lot of nerve, kid," he growled.

"I-"

"Mr. Dextera has won this tournament for the last three years running. This year won't be different…or you'll have big problems on your hands."

Chas's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. "Are you threatening me?"

The man smiled, his teeth crooked. "I'm giving you a helpful suggestion for your health. Lose this tournament. Or else."

The man let go and stalked away, and Chas took a few deep breaths in disbelief of what had just happened.

"Geez…what happened to golf being a gentlemen's' sport?" He muttered to himself, picking up his bag. He headed toward his cab, but was once again interrupted before he got there.

"Mr. Kramer!"

Chas stopped and turned around, and put down his bag as two men walked toward him. Both were tall, but one was well tanned and blonde, and the other was a bit chunky and brunette.

"Mr. Kramer, my name is Matthew Burton. I'm the PGA representative for this week's tournament," the blonde said, and then he gestured to the brunette. "This is Lewis Gerard. He's covering the tournament for a local magazine."

Chas shook both their hands, wondering what this could possibly be about.

"We watched your performance today, and we were quite impressed," Lewis said, nodding enthusiastically. "I'd like to interview you for the magazine tomorrow, before the tournament day. There's a lot of interest in such a golfer coming from nowhere and taking the qualifying round."

"Well, it was just a bit of luck-"

"So you'll do the interview?"

Chas blinked. "Uh…well, I don't see why not…"

"Wonderful! I'll meet you at the Mendel Clubhouse at 6 o'clock tomorrow evening then. Dinner's on me."

Chas didn't even have time to offer thanks before Matthew jumped in. "My supervisor heard about your performance, Mr. Kramer. He wants me to give you a promise."

"A promise, sir?"

"If you take this tournament tomorrow, the PGA would like to offer you free admission through a private Q-school upstate. We know in your financial situation paying in full would not be near an option, but letting your talent fall through the cracks would be damn sinful."

Chas was speechless. He stuttered for a few moments, unsure, and managed a weak, "…Really?"

Matthew smiled. "Really. So…win this tournament, kid. The PGA is looking forward to training a new rising star. You've just got to show us endurance, and we'll show you one of the best schools in the country for golfing," he said, and then he leaned forward so only Chas could hear his next words. "And I hear that Bruce Harmon is looking for new, promising talent to take on."

"See you tomorrow!" Lewis said, and quick as that, they were gone.

Chas was too stunned to move. Bruce Harmon? As in Tiger Woods's golfing coach? It was unreal, a total fantasy.

One win in a qualifying round, and suddenly everyone wanted something from him. Him, Chas Kramer, the poverty stricken 17-year-old cab driver. For the first time in his life, John had become a backdrop- even a complication.

What have you gotten yourself into, Chas?


Chas couldn't sleep that night. He was still sorting everything out in his brain, trying to figure things out.

Dextera's goon had made it clear to him the immediate consequences of winning the tournament, even though Chas was far from confident that he could win.

But…if he won the tournament, he would get a free ride through Q-school, a possible ticket into the PGA. And while that wouldn't get him set for life, he wouldn't have to struggle for rent ever again, as long as he could hit a ball and hit it well. John's maximum pay looked like pocket change compared to what he could make if he ever got to the senior tour of the PGA.

Leaving John…that was a whole different issue. Could he actually give up what he'd been doing, his other passion? He'd always loved the stuff John was involved in as much as he loved golf.

He had to get serious sometime, though. John had made it clear to him that he didn't have what it took to be a successful exorcist like him. Here, the people believed in him. They saw his talent as more than a means of getting revenge or winning bets.

He would never be anything to John, nothing more than a driver and an occasional amusement. And an occasional fuck, evidently. John didn't care about him.

But maybe he could be more. Maybe, just maybe.


John couldn't sleep that night.

He'd seen the way everyone kept on about the young cab driver who came out of nowhere to be top qualifier. Everyone wanted to meet him, wanted to shake hands with him.

And John Constantine was getting jealous.

He'd never thought that his apprentice's attention could be diverted so drastically. And what was the funniest part was that he was the one who convinced Chas to do this.

Now, he was having second thoughts.

Now, he was afraid that he might lose the only thing that had become constant in his life.

The only thing he cared for.

He sighed, sat up, and lit up a cigarette, fidgeting nervously. He couldn't believe how worked up he was getting over this. The kid wouldn't leave him for a silly sport, a hobby.

Unless he won the tournament. Suddenly everybody in the golf business would want this kid on their payroll.

Maybe you could give him a raise.

A raise…yeah right. You can't offer him half the money he could get being a famous golfer.

You'll have to just talk to him, let him know that you'd really like him to stay. Maybe he'll listen.

Maybe…just maybe.