Delaware Club

The swipe of the little white orb meant that anyone who wished to play golf could. Anyone except white people at the Delaware Club.

“This is an outrage!” shrieked Jeremiah McKean.

“No. This is private property,” Kalina Rory explained.

“But that doesn’t take effect until November. I’ve been a member of this club for twenty years.”

“Mr. McKean, I apologize, but these are the rules. Only blacks can populate the Delaware Club. It is an institution not open to the public.”

“Why this is, this is reverse racism.”

“No, it’s just racism. There are dozens of other clubs across the state and hundreds around the country that will have policies open to everyone. Or just whites.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does when it’s about private property. You can’t be grandfathered in and you don’t have a right to the courses or the amenities. If I must, I will call the authorities to have you removed. Will that be necessary?”

“No, but here me out, Kalina.” He smiled broadly and leaned back and spoke with a folksy tone. “Kalina! This is me. I've been swinging out on that green for years. You know me. You know that I pay my dues ahead of time. I’m in the Black Circle. All I have been is good to everyone, Eijah, Josia, Issac, Marcus. There’s a good chance that I’ve watched them all improve their game where I languished.”

“Mr. McKean….” Kalina sighed.

“Wait, wait, wait. I know this place. The sauna, the game room, the smokers’ lounge. Hell, they named a wing after me: ‘McKean Hall.’ You know.”

“I know that's just called security. That wing will be renamed ‘Kente Hall.’ Whatever memories you have locked up in your skull, let them stay there. Let them remain the idea that for centuries, blacks have been excluded from prestigious golf courses and clubs. But you’re free to start your own club and make it whites only, whatever the hell black and white only means. We’re all mutts.”

“About that. If I just take some pictures to give the builders a sense of what I want, will that be permissible?” McKean asked.

“I don’t think that would be a problem,” Kalina replied.

McKean walked around his former club. He peered at the photos on the wall with him being one of two white men in the entire organization. He recalled all of the money he poured into the causes that the club backed. With his smartphone, he snapped all of the places except the diamond room. He knew that if he were to step in there to take pictures, he wouldn’t be allowed to live. He was stopped in the hallway.

“Hey, J! You know you’re never supposed to be here. How the hell are you?” Issac Bennett asked.

“I’ve felt better,” he said.

“It’s no sweat. For everything, this is the best recourse. I’m jumping ship when the law goes into effect. It’s not particularly intelligent because we lose good guys like you. But it's the boss' orders. Hate to see you go but it seems like you're the type to forge your own path. Best wishes,” Bennett said and breezed past Mckean.

Mckean snapped his last photo. He returned to the desk and Kalina stood with two burly men dressed in all black.

“It looks like I’ve worn out my welcome,” McKean muttered.

“Sir, I’m going to need your badge and any other belongings related to the Delaware Club,” Kalina announced.

“You want my clubs, too?”

“No. You can keep those.”

McKean relinquished his prized badge that had points on it that would be evaporated upon his expulsion.

“We appreciate your time here at the Delaware Club and hope that you enjoy your leisure time at a club designated just for you.”

Mckean looked glum. He then found his stride and decided to open a course available to all colors.