Chapter 25

“Oh, that,” Quinn said, covering for his desire and fear. “That’s because I’m in awe of your prowess at miniature golf.”

“And well you should be,” Tam said, “because I’m the Jordan Spieth of the mini course. Let me show you something.”

He lined himself up with a shot at a tiny windmill. Then he took a beige print bandana from his pocket and tied it around his eyes. He paused, oscillating the club, and putted: Tam came within an inch of the hole, a wondrous example to Quinn of how a superb athlete retains a sense of his body even in sightless space.

“You try,” Tam said.

He tied the bandana around Quinn’s eyes loosely, then guided him to the hole.

“Relax,” he said. “You’re too tight. Trust me.”