This story takes place in the world described in The Cynthia Chronicles. It is now twelve years since the conclusion of Cynthia and the High School Years — Part 2. Bobbie (Schmedlap) Anderson is playing in the most important golf tournament in her young life. Since turning pro after her graduation from college, she set the LPGA (Ladies Professional Golf Association) tour on fire, winning just about everything in sight. Now she is playing in both the LPGA and PGA, and continuing to win. As you read, you will find out how she arrived at where she is. She has done it with the support of her husband and high school sweetheart, Andy Anderson, who is a pretty good golfer, too. She is now locked in a head to head battle with a male chauvinist golfer who has made it known that the idea of a woman golfer on the PGA is repugnant, especially in this particular tournament. It doesn’t help that Bobbie has defeated him in the past. Some of you may recognize what tournament they are playing in right away. It won’t be kept from you for very long, if you don’t know.

For the last few months, Bobbie has been receiving threatening notes, vowing to expose her as a witch. If it was done, it would destroy her and Andy’s careers as professional golfers. It would also cause serious damage to the magic world, and would probably lead to the destruction of professional sports, in general. Who could be doing this, and why? What can Cindy, Bobbie, The Wizard, and the rest of their friends, magical and non-magical do to prevent this disaster?

The bulk of this story takes place over one day. There are eighteen chapters (holes), plus the Nineteenth Hole. I then added four more chapters to follow what happened to the antagonists over the following years. Those last four chapters might become part of a future story.

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If you haven’t read the previous stories about Cindy, Bobbie, and the rest and how they arrived where they are now, you should probably read them. Start with An Incremental Journey, Cynthia and the Reluctant Girlfriend, Cynthia and the Dumpster Diver, Cynthia and the Moment of Truth, and Cynthia and the High School Years — Parts 1 & 2.
I have researched the Spell’s—R-Us Universe diligently and cannot find anything that violates it, other than that The Wizard is a bit kinder and gentler than sometimes reported. Don’t get me wrong. Given an opening, The Wizard could resort to some of his more ironic and nasty transformations. I’m sure that could happen at any time.

Once again, Holly did an outstanding job of fixing my punctuation errors and occasional wanderings into gibberish. My thanks also go to Beachbud, Michell, and Djkauf for their subjective proofing and comments.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Bobbie and the Glass Ceiling, Chapters 1, 2, and 3

Chapter 1 — Tea Olive, Par 4, 455 yards

“You can do it. Just keep it to the left of the bunkers just like you’ve done it for the last three days.

“How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

“No, I was fine when I got up, and breakfast seems to want to stay down.”

“You can do this Bobbie. You’re right there. There could be a two stroke swing on any hole. Just play your game and we’ll talk about the options when we come to them. Take a deep breath. They hit their second shots. We’re up.”

A loud ‘pop’ over the speakers indicated the starter had turned the microphone on. “Ladies and gentlemen, the final pairing of the day: From Bridgeport, Connecticut, at eight under par, Bobbie Anderson.”

She was hitting her driver. Her slow back swing was deceiving. Her swing was not. She hit the low draw she had been hitting for years. It headed for the bunkers on the right, before turning toward the center of the fairway. Her ball stopped just past the leading edge of the first bunker.

She handed her driver to Andy and he cleaned it off before covering it and putting it back in the bag. It was a beautiful place: park-like with flowering shrubs and trees everywhere. The beauty was not lost on them, but for the next five hours, or so, it would be strictly business. The beautiful shrubs, azaleas, dogwoods, redbud, and pines lining the fairways would be their enemy, and the less they saw of them, the better.

The starter turned on the mike, “From Saugus, California, at ten under par, and the defending champion, James Campion.”

Campion, a notoriously long hitter, teed up with the driver in hand. He didn’t need a driver even on most of the longer holes. He had an agenda and had made it clear the previous day’s news conference. “She is a joke, a fluke, no, a freak of nature. They should check her DNA.” His tee shot cleared the bunker on the right by five yards, giving him an easy wedge to the green. He was a good thirty yards ahead of Bobbie’s tee shot. The crowd cheered their favorite, not that Bobbie didn’t have a huge following of her own.

As he leaned over to pick up his tee, he looked at Bobbie. His sneer was obvious to those around the tee, and to millions watching the tournament on television. Bobbie gave him a most beautiful smile in return, which for her was not a difficult thing to do.

The golf pundits on TV commented about their difference in distance, “She’s at a two, three, or even four club disadvantage against the men. I know she’s probably the longest hitter on the LPGA, but she just can’t hold up against the men, especially on a course like this.”

“Al, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. She’s played in this tournament for five straight years and has not only made the cut every time, has finished in the top ten every year. But for an unfortunate club choice, she might have won two years ago.

“Your problem is just like all the members of this club. They tried everything in the world to keep her from playing here, but could never come up with a legitimate reason to prevent her playing. She met all the criteria and she has played the course better than most of the men. She hasn’t missed a fairway all week, and has missed only two of ten up and downs. The only negative is that she hasn’t made an eagle, but that’s hardly a negative. She’s birdied four of the par fives and eight other holes against only four bogies. If it wasn’t for Campion, she’d be three shots in front right now. I think we need to sit back and watch one of the most skilled golfers in the world, woman or man.”

Earlier in the Year

“The Ad Hoc Committee formed to investigate allegations of the use of witchcraft to influence sports events will come to order,” Esmeralda Alden was sitting at the position of power and started the meeting. The family room at the Schmedlap’s house was usually the scene of happier events than this. Bobbie had nervously greeted Esmeralda Mather and Evelyn Alden at the front door a few minutes before. She noticed that they had arrived without their car: something they seemed to do more and more.

There weren’t many witches who could transport with ease. It was something that seemed to develop with maturity among the witches, and Esmeralda and Evelyn were both well over three hundred years old. But even with the older witches, the talent wasn’t that common. Of course, The Wizard did it with ease. In fact, it was his preferred method of transportation. The Wizard and Wolf had arrived early in the afternoon. It was now 8:00 in the evening, and Wolf was off with the cats, kittens and younger children.

“Let’s review the facts as we know them. Bobbie, why don’t you start?”

Bobbie looked around the room. Everyone she loved and admired were there, at least all the adults were. The children were being looked after at the Lewis’s home. This was just a fact-finding meeting. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but if the allegations got out, her whole life as a golfer would be destroyed. She would never be able to show her face on a golf course again. What made it even worse was that the love of her life would never be able to play either.

“As you know, I started receiving letters in the mail two months ago. Whoever wrote them said he or she knew I was a witch, and that I was using witchcraft to win the tournaments I have won. They also accused me of using witchcraft to enable Andy to win his tournaments on the Nationwide Tour, plus enabling him to finish where he has been finishing on the PGA Tour. You have copies of all the letters. Esmeralda has the originals.”

“Yes, they are right here. His Wisdom has examined them and is ready with his report.

“Your Wisdom.”

“Thank you, Ezzie. I have had the opportunity to examine the letters and the envelopes. There is no question that whoever sent them is from the magic world. Someone tried to erase any personal aura traces, and they succeeded. However, all of the letters and envelopes retained a trace of the spell. It’s sort of like a soap residue left after laundering some clothes.

“The paper stock used to print the letters is the same. In fact, it came from the same ream. Likewise, the envelopes came from the same package. The envelopes are postmarked from different cities in the New England area. That’s no big deal. Anyone could easily do that.”

Andy was contemplating what might happen if word got out that a professional athlete was using magic to improve his or her performance. This was far worse than any chemical enhanced performance scandal. “Your Wisdom, why would anyone do something like this? I don’t see where the payoff is. The damage would be far more serious to the magic world than whatever it would do to Bobbie and me. Yes, our athletic careers would be over, but far worse would be the fact that the existence of magic would become well known, and in a negative way. This is assuming, of course, that the existence of magic could be proven.

“We know that someone with magic powers is behind this. I think the sole intent is to scare Bobbie off the tour; maybe me, as well. Why would they do that?”

“I think I know,” The Wizard said quietly, “however, I don’t think we have that much to worry about right now. Whoever is doing this doesn’t want Bobbie on the tour for two reasons. Bobbie is such a damn good golfer without magic, that she is a threat to this person’s status. The second thing is that someone is using magic to enhance his career.”

“That certainly makes sense,” Bobbie responded. “It wouldn’t take much magic to influence a round of golf. Just one or two little ‘nudges’ a round can make all the difference in the world. Look at what could have happened at the Masters a while ago. A blossom from a pine tree fell in the path of Phil Mickelson’s putt, knocking it off line. Fortunately, it didn’t affect the outcome in his case, but it could have. I could easily cause a bee to sting a player at a critical moment. I could subtly push a ball away from a hole or into a hole. I never would, but it would be easy to do.

“What would I gain by cheating in a game I love so much? Not a damn thing. I can see it now: a group of witches playing a round of golf and all score eighteen for the round. What’s the point? I would never cheat, even though Gramma Naomi made sure I couldn’t use magic in sports.”

“Bobbie, I need to tell you something. I never did cast that spell. That would have been mind control, and I could never do that to my granddaughter. You were so young then, such a happy, beautiful little girl, and I wasn’t sure how the fact that you were a witch would have affected you. I know now I should have never said anything like that. I’m so sorry I did. Please forgive me.”

“Gramma, I think I really knew that. Gosh, I had been a physical girl for just a little over a year then. Cindy and I were having so much fun. We still are. Who would have guessed?”

Esmeralda noticed that Myrna Moscowitz had something to say. “Myrna, you have a comment?”

“Yes, first of all, I would like to thank you for asking Avery and me to attend this meeting. We both feel it is quite an honor.”

“Myrna, I think you know how we feel about you and Avery. You are very important to us and our future. You honor us by being here.”

“Well, thank you again … now I’ve lost my train of thought.”

Avery whispered something into her ear.

“Oh, yes, silly me, I want to be able to sample those envelopes. If the person who sent them licked the glue, he or she left DNA. I can analyze it, and at least get a DNA chart on the perpetrator or perpetrators. If it ever comes down to proving who sent them, we might have irrefutable evidence. We are building quite a file of DNA information, by the way, thanks to the volunteers.”

“I think Myrna should get all the envelopes right now,” The Wizard commented. “I know she’ll take great care of the evidence, and she knows how to get it back to us.

“As far as Bobbie, Andy, and golf go, I think we can ignore this for the moment. For the reasons we’ve already discussed, I think it is obvious that this person’s sole intent is to scare Bobbie off the tour. To that extent, I think we can ignore this threat, because there is nothing they can do.

“We do need to find out who is doing this, though. This is the type of situation that needs to be stopped as soon as possible. There are some serious implications for all of us.”

Back to the Present

“Anderson is hitting first. Campion outdrove her by forty yards. This is what I was talking about earlier. What’s she hitting; five or six? He’s hitting a sand wedge, if that.

“The pin’s in the back right; the usual location for the final round. The greens are starting to get crusty, and they’re very fast.”

“She’s hitting a six iron,” the on-course announcer offered. “She has a good lie. It is a bit uphill to an undulating green. Okay, she’s given it a good chance with that swing. If it’s long enough, it’s right on line.”

“She cleared the bunker just fine. She might have been about a half club short. Her ball stopped about twenty five feet short of the pin. It’ll be pretty straight, with a bit of a break to the right the last few feet.

“Okay, here’s Campion with a sand wedge. He’ll be disappointed if he can’t get it within ten feet.

“Oops, he’s not happy with that shot at all. He’s pulled it, and it might not stay on the green. Well, he got lucky. It’s just rolled to the fringe. There were a couple of shots like that earlier today that rolled all the way off the back. With that pin location that’s almost a sure bogie. No one’s gotten up and down from down there all day.”

There was the usual banter among the announcers as the two made their way to the green. Campion was several feet closer to the pin than Bobbie. The camera and the announcers picked up on the fact he seemed to be nervous. He kept glancing around as Bobbie placed her ball back at her mark after Andy cleaned it for her. She lined it up and calmly stroked it toward the hole. It broke just like the announcer said it would, and stopped about eighteen inches to the right of the hole. She calmly walked to the ball, lifted and replaced it, and stroked it into the hole. She received a loud cheer from the massive crowd.

Campion opted to chip the ball and almost mishit it. The ball stopped five feet from the hole. He fretted over the putt for a long time. The putt, when he finally stroked it, barely crept into the low side of the hole.

“Seventeen holes to go, and Campion still has a two stroke lead. Campion’s at ten under par, and Anderson is at minus eight.”
”ƒ
Chapter 2 — Pink Dogwood, Par 5, 575 Yards

The Present — On the Course

“Andy, that putt should never have gone in. It should have kept breaking to the right, but it didn’t. It curled to the left against the grain.”

“Sweetheart, you played it perfectly. Don’t worry about him. He’s scared of you, and you’re a better golfer. Just keep playing your game. Okay, this is a three wood and a layup. Hit the wedge right and you have an easy birdie. He’s going to self destruct. You can bet on it.

“Just do it like you always have: three wood down the right side, lay up with the seven.”

Campion had the honor, and hit one of his patented humongous drives. It worked against him this time. He hit it through the dogleg, and it trickled into the short rough.

From the Announcer’s Booth

“Al, I don’t think there’s any question that he will go for the green, but with that pin in the far right, I don’t think he can go for the pin. The lie is pretty good in the short rough, but he might catch a flyer.”

“I think you’re right.

“Anderson has never tried to go for this pin any of the times she’s played, and this time doesn’t look any different. I think she’s going with the 3-wood again. Obviously, she’s going to lay up.”

Eight Years Before

Bobbie, her body and hair wrapped in towels, walked to the the incessantly ringing phone. She made it before it cut to the recording. It was Cindy. “Hi, Cindy”

“Bobbie, have you seen Sports illustrated?”

“No, what about it?”

“You’re on the cover.”

“What!”

“You’re the Sportsman/Sportswoman of the Year. Didn’t you know they were going to do that?”

“Not really. They wanted to take some pictures, and I let them. They said they were going to do an article about my golf. They did say something about wanting me to do some pictures for the swimsuit issue next spring.”

“Bobbie, they have that old picture of you and me in the article when we were fourteen. They photo shopped the hell out of it and we look like twenty-five year-old beach bimbos. Actually, we look pretty damn hot. It’s the same photo they used a couple of years ago.

“Are you really going to do the swim suit issue? You may never be able to live it down.”

“I’ll do it if you’ll do it with me. You know what I said. If you got it, flaunt it. I think it would be a lot of fun. Besides, they will pay us fifty grand.”

“You said ‘us’. Have you already told them that I might do it?”

“Well, they did ask. I know we don’t need the money, but it might help get the sponsors and endorsements when I go pro.

“Andy and I have been talking about it, and he’s okay with it. He’s doing well on the Nationwide tour, and will probably qualify for the big time next year. We think the husband-wife professional golfer thing might bring in some good sponsors. Our agent thinks so, too.”

“Bobbie, I’ll do it if it doesn’t bother Don. I don’t think it will, but I will ask. Don’s pretty cool about things like this, and I don’t think he would ever be the jealous husband.

“If I do it, I want them to donate the money to that orphanage that took care of Donna. They certainly need it more than I, and I think Don would like that, even though he was never there in this reality.”

Cindy thought back to the time nearly fifteen years before in another life, when she had no life. She had been Al Gontarski in those days, and he’d religiously bought the Sports Illustrated swim suit issue, and then spent hours looking at the gorgeous models, while wondering what it would be like to have a body like theirs. The pages were often spotted with dried tears.

Well, that was no longer a problem. She knew she was attractive. No, that wasn’t true at all. She was drop dead gorgeous, just like Bobbie. They had been so fortunate, and they had the right to show off once in a while. Cindy continued to maintain excellent physical conditioning, as did Bobbie. For Cindy it was a matter of pride. For Bobbie, it was a necessity.

Back to the Present — In the Announcers’ Booth

“Anderson has a seven iron. She’s going to try to put it up past and to the left of where Campion’s ball is now.

“Her husband’s helping her line it up. You know, that is an interesting situation. He’ll caddy for her in the important tournaments, and she’ll caddy for him when she can. She’s qualified as a regular on the PGA tour, with her wins and high finishes, but she vowed long ago to never compete against her husband on the tour. She said there was no reason to do it, and if she did, they couldn’t help each other.

“I’ve been told by a source to remain unnamed, that he never did beat her until he was a senior in college, and they played from the same tees. He’s a good golfer, and he’ll break through some day.

“Okay, she’s hit it perfectly, leaving her with probably a wedge to the pin.

“Campion seems impatient. He’s hardly taken time to line up his shot. Whoops, he came over the top with that 7-iron, and has definitely pulled it to the left. Wow, that is plugged right below the lip of the bunker. He’s going to have an impossible shot to get it close.

“Here’s Anderson with a pitching wedge. I think she’ll hit a little knock down.

“She’s done just that. Look at that! Two hops and it stopped two feet from the hole. That should be an easy birdie for Anderson.

“Campion has a miserable lie. Talk about a fried egg. The best club for him would be a shovel.

“Boy, did he get a face full of sand, and the ball barely made it to the fringe.

“He’s going to putt from the fringe. He’ll have to be careful. It could get caught up in the fringe.

“He’s done just that and has left it about four feet short. He’s still outside Anderson.

“Wow, he just barely curled that one in to save par.

“Here’s Anderson’s tap in, and now she’s only one stroke back. Campion’s still at ten under par, and Anderson is now at nine under par.”
”ƒ
Chapter 3 — Flowering Peach, Par 4, 350 Yards

From the Announcers’ Booth

“This is one tough little hole. It is so tough that they haven’t touched it for over thirty years. It was one of the few holes that they didn’t lengthen when everyone started hitting wedges to the par fives. Some of the longer hitters have been going for the green on their drives, and McIver eagled it on day one. A lot of good it did him. He missed the cut.

“Campion’s gone for it twice, and put in the bunker each time.

“Anderson has the honor and she’s going with a three wood. That will take the bunkers down the left side out of play.

“She’s split the fairway again, and will have a little wedge to one of the nastiest pin placements in golf. It’s down there on the far left, and there is hardly any green to hit to.

“Campion’s going with the driver. I wonder what he’s trying to prove? Everyone knows he’s one of the longest hitters around, but even if he gets it on the green, he’ll have a very difficult put. There’s no way he can get it close to the hole with his drive.

“It’s going right at the pin, but it’s short. He’ll have to pitch it up the hill and hope that he gets it close. Too short, and it’s back down the hill. Too long and he could go off the back of the green. Too far right, and he will have one long, lighting fast putt back down the hill. I don’t think he can go straight at the pin. There’s just too much trouble. He should have laid up like Anderson and most of the others have.

Eight Years Earlier

Graduation was behind them. Cindy had at least eight more years of medical school and residency ahead of her. Don was going to the Harvard Law School. He was in the 99th percentile on the LSAT and had apparently watered the acceptance committee’s eyes with the letters of recommendation and his own letter of introduction. Don had continued to be very active in intercollegiate sports, and was recognized as second team All American as a place kicker. He was also First Team All American as a soccer player. He had been the 60th pick over all in the NFL draft, which was exceptionally high for a place kicker. There was a nice seven figure signing bonus offered, but he refused the offer. Getting their careers and family established was far more important.

Myrna Moscowitz was already working on her masters in biochemistry, and continuing directly into a doctorate program. Avery, her husband, had changed direction slightly, going into physics after getting a degree in electrical engineering two years before.

The three happily married couples were relaxing at their favorite little getaway spot. They would meet there at least twice a year, just to relax and enjoy each others’ company.

“Well, I have an announcement of the obvious,” Bobbie stated as they sipped their margaritas. “I am officially going pro, and will be playing in the State Farm Classic next week. Wish me luck.”

“That was a no-brainer,” Myrna said, somewhat facetiously. “I don’t understand why you didn’t do it years ago. You could have won millions by now.”

“I guess there’re several reasons. I love sports and athletics. That is something that will never change. That was one reason that no one outside my family, except Cindy and The Wizard, knew about the horrible conflict I was going through as a little boy. I wanted to be a professional athlete, but if I had SRS, and that was definitely going to happen some day, I would never have had the freedom I do now. Even if I could have gone on the tour, there would always have been that ‘thing’ hanging over me. Thank God, Cindy found me, and we are now having this wonderful adventure.

“I owed it to Wake-Forest, too. I had a wonderful scholarship, and if I could, I wanted to give them something in return.”

“I certainly think you accomplished that,” Cindy said as she motioned to the waiter. “Shall we have refills on the margaritas before we order?”

“I better pass on that,” Myrna said while grasping Avery’s hand in hers. “I think from all indications, we may be expecting an addition to the family in about eight and a half months.”

That announcement raised the euphoric level among the three couples to an even higher leves.

“Bobbie, correct me if I’m wrong,” Cindy said, bringing the conversation back to Bobbie and golf. “You were First Team All American four years in a row; you won the US Amateur the last two years, you also won the NCAA Championship the last two years, and led your team to the championship as well. You’ve won three professional tournaments as an amateur, and the athletic equipment companies have left a trail of saliva to your front door, wanting to sign you up as soon as you turn pro.

“Have I left any thing out?”

“Well, there were a couple of other tournament that didn’t really amount to much; however, you left out the most important event.”

“And, that was?”

“The day I married the love of my life: I couldn’t have done any of that without his support and love. I may love golf, but that is insignificant compared to my love for Andy and the love I have for all of you. If I had to make a choice, I’d quit golf right now, rather than lose you guys.”

Back to the Announcers’ Booth

“Ray, what’s she hitting?”

“She has a sand wedge. She and her husband talked about it for quite a while. I think she would just like to get it close. A two-putt par would be just fine.”

“I agree, Ray. The scoring average for the week is 4.25. This is one nasty little par four.

“Here’s her shot. She’s hit it very high and to the right of the hole. What a shot! It took two hops and she somehow managed to get a little back spin on it. Here it comes. It’s rolling; it’s rolling and it’s stopped about three feet above the hole. That’s going to be a real knee knocker. It would be very easy to hit it off the green.

“Ray, what does Campion have left?”

“He has about thirty yards to the pin. I don’t think he can go right at it. No, he’s going to chip with a seven iron and try to hit it on the slope and hope it rolls back toward the hole. I don’t envy him this shot at all.”

“Oh my, he’s hit it much too hard. It’s stopped on the upper level and he’s going to have fifty feet down to the hole. I don’t think it’s possible to get it near the hole. He could putt it right off the green.”

“Anderson’s marked her ball, and Campion has walked this thing back and forth about six times. This is just one nasty putt.

“He’s hit it to the edge of the slope and now it’s starting to pick up speed. He might be hitting a sand wedge next.

“I don’t believe it. There’s no way that ball should have stopped, but it did.

“Campion knocks his ball in from about a foot away, and now Anderson is lining up her putt. This is one nasty little three-footer.

“She just barely taps it and it’s in the heart, a birdie for Anderson. Folks we have a golf tournament. Campion and Anderson are even at ten under par, five strokes ahead of the field. This is a two man, er person tournament now.”

Out on the Course

‘Cindy, Charli, can you hear me?’

‘Yeah, what’s up? That was sure beautifully played.’

‘Thanks, but we’ve fifteen holes to go. Don’t get your hopes up yet. There’s something bad going on. He never should have made that putt on the first hole. It really had me wondering. I never thought I would see it, but now I know for sure. He’s getting a magic assist. Somebody put the brakes on that downhill putt. It wasn’t a little nudge. That putt was so off the green. I picked up the magic right away.

‘Get The Wizard, and keep your eyes and senses open. Campion has a helper out there somewhere. If I am going to win this thing, I am going to win it fair and square. But if he continues cheating, my hands are tied, and that really pisses me off.’

‘Stay calm, Bobbie, you’ve got that bastard by the short hairs. If he has to cheat to win, he’s very afraid of you. He’s going to crumble.'

Three holes down and fifteen to go: I wonder where the magic is coming from? Things will definitely get tougher before they get better. Campion’s big, tough, and nasty, but is he really a golfer? Bobbie brought up a good point about magic and golf. It just isn’t right. What can a group of witches do about what’s going on, and where is The Wizard when he is really needed?