He has on white gloves. He drops the eggs. So he asks for a few more. Perhaps you oblige.
Then his friend shows up at the door, and happens to notice a golf club in your golf bag, in the hall. He makes a compliment about it, and he asks if he could try it out. You shrug your shoulder and let him go out in the front lawn. He takes a ball, and promises he'll hit it into the bay.
While he leaves, the young man asks you to for another four eggs, please. The dog outside, that was barking - for some reason - suddenly goes silent. The other young man returns, holding your club. He says that the club is magnificient.
The two polite young men, dressed in white shirts and each wearing white gloves - are standing in your doorway. Something is not right.
Your husband returns, and you ask him to get them to leave. After a small argument, they turn to leave, and as your husband turns his back to them the golf club lands down on your husband's leg at 97 miles an hour. Cracking your husband's leg and knee. Their intonation is strangely calm. He asks you a question.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a golf ball. What is this? He says. And you reply a golf ball. Yes, he says, but what does it mean?...
And then it dawns on you that he never hit the golf ball. Where is he, you ask.
With your husband held at bay, and your son next to him -inside - you find yourself standing in the yard. Hotter. Colder. ... Warmer..