#102: Drop

It was the idea of playing golf with kangaroos that appealed to Peter. Getting the kids out in nature, even if it were a leisurely stroll across some cut grass. He knew Rory would give it a go for a minute before getting bored and returning to his Gameboy. Matilda might, just might, look up from her phone for a minute and see some greenery. Who knows if the momentary exposure to the outdoors will have any effect?

Besides, he wants her away from the boys, who leer at her at the Caravan Park swimming pool.

As he placed the ball on the first tee and stood back to admire the view, both kids remained in the buggy, oblivious to the sheer beauty of the golf course. Huge eucalypt gums lined each fairway, and the river snaked alongside.

It wasn't until the seventh, towards the back of the golf course, when a large mob littered the fairway. As Peter teed off, he made sure to not make a big deal of the wild kangaroos.

He aimed for an area where no Eastern Greys were, and for the first time today, he hit it sweetly. The ball went almost exactly where he wanted it to go. It was, perhaps, Peter's best shot. And no one witnessed it other than some kangaroos.

Peter drove the buggy, swerving between the furry obstacles.

"What the actual fuck?" Matilda said as a roo gently lopped past her vision.

He pulled up to where his ball was, satisfied both kids were now mesmerised by what surrounded them.

Peter strode up to his ball with a seven iron in hand. A clean shot will get him to the green.

One quick look at the kids confirmed they were both filming. Somehow, if it doesn't appear on their screen, it can't be real.

Head down, back straight. The heft of the ball felt good.

The sickening thwack was quickly followed by Matilda and Rory's screams and then the thud of a large male roo slumping to the ground. Peter could see the dent in the roos' head and the trickle of blood emanating from the golf-ball-shaped wound.

He looked to Rory, who was still screaming and feared the gold ball ricochet from the kangaroo's head into him. He wasn't clutching any wound but was manically pointing to the dead kangaroo.

A voice from the other fairway boomed across. "Don't worry about it, mate. Just drop and play."