How many times had I wondered? Jinx and I were wheeling along. In our smooth-as-silk-tie cart we’d circled back to number 7 tee box to catch Dustin’s group. Talk about genetic engineering, I’d often questioned what kind of super genes Dustin had. Hydrogen and oxygen lift off, Dustin could send a ball into orbit. Before the round, science men had visited Dog-bone Forest and talked with Dustin. NASA had tested Dustin for launch pad possibilities. Dr. Goddard Rufert of NASA space technologies and Dr. Yadkin Mohrt of the SETI (search for extra-terrestrial life) were allowing Dustin to test a blend, a mixture of varied alloys: beryllium, titanium, lithium, molybdenum, cobalt, carbon and more elements were on the table, on the drawing board, in the production line.
“A new ball, Dustin, or a new shaft and a unique club-head, with your unerring accuracy and raw power, we’re confident you can defy gravity and send golf to Andromeda. Somewhere in the stars, there’s life.”
Dustin’s ears perked. His eyes widened. “I’m listening, gentlemen.”
Dustin who, at a stand-still, could dunk basketballs, who could probably throw a football 60 yards to woolly rhino, with Glimmer, racing to the end zone, Dustin nodded.
“Good, Dustin,” said Dr. Rufert. The skinny man wore a white lab coat, had gold-rimmed glasses, a bitty nose, and his thin hair was flat to his head. “We can’t send Dog-bone Forest’s duckbills, mosasaurs, or plesiosaurs to Andromeda. But we can let you launch, send a message of who we are. We can make happy contact. Everyone loves golf. Aliens will want to come play our fine courses. They’d love to have your autographed balls. They might have new ideas on how to improve our lame planet. We’d trade play on our fine golf courses for their classified knowledge.”
(Image of mosasaurs, plesiosaurs, duckbills in space ship to stars along with image of Dustin, thinking with space men talking, Golpher listening)