Free Two Under Par by Kevin Henkes Page A

presents. But since we don’t know if the baby’ll be a boy or a girl, why don’t we get something for each other instead. It’ll be fun.”
    â€œHow about we make something,” King suggested. “That way Andrew and Wedge won’t have to empty their banks. Better yet, why don’t the four of us draw names. We can each make something for one person—the person whose name we choose. But don’t tell whose name you get. That way it’ll be a surprise.”
    â€œCan we buy something if we want?” Wedge asked.
    â€œOnly if you want,” King said. “You don’t have to.”
    So they each wrote their name on a piece of paper and folded it twice. They put the paper in a bowl and one by one picked a name.
    Wedge hoped for Sally. He got King.
    Up in his room, Wedge tried to decide what to get King. He had one day to come up with something. He remembered when Sally was dating a guy named Bud Scapelli at Christmastime one year. Sally told Wedge that he had to get a gift for Bud even though he didn’t really know (or like) him. “Just get him a necessary gift,” Sally told Wedge.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Wedge asked, confused.
    â€œIt means, get him something he needs—like socks or underwear. Nothing special.”
    Wedge blushed when Sally said underwear. Socks, maybe—underwear, never.
    Wedge ended up giving Bud Scapelli a free sample of men’s cologne that he got at K Mart when he was doing his other shopping.
    The longer he thought about the gift situation, the more confused Wedge was. He had no idea what to get King. Sally or Andrew would have been easy. For Sally you could buy anything from suntan oil to perfume to jewelry to a box of tea and she would love it. If he had picked Andrew, Wedge would have bought him a couple of boxes of man-size Kleenex.
    Wedge knew he didn’t want to get King a necessary gift. That was too easy. He wanted to get him something just right for him. Whatever that might be.
    Wedge woke with a start in the middle of the night. He was sweating. He turned on the light and, trancelike, got out of bed and pulled the box filled with the gifts for his real father out from under it.
    Wedge hadn’t thought about the box in weeks. But it had entered and passed through his mind as he slept. He looked at its contents—the aftershave, the screwdriver set, the baseball. Everything was there. But why was he looking at it in the middle of the night? And then it dawned on him. What he had been dreaming about. He would give the box to King. Just as he had done only minutes earlier in his sleep.
    Wedge quietly shoved the box out to the middle of his room, turned out the light, and crawled back into bed. He closed his eyes. He knew he had made the right decision. It was necessary. It was something he needed to do.
    The next afternoon Wedge wrapped the box and placed it on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. The kitchen smelled sweet and warm—of cake. Sally was racing about, tying balloons and crepe-paper streamers to all the ceiling light fixtures throughout the house. She had curlers in her hair. King had closed Camelot early and was in the basement helping Andrew finish his gift. And Prince was a wavy, brown lump snoozing near the refrigerator. Sally had tied a red bow around his neck.
    â€œNeed any help?” Wedge asked Sally.
    â€œI don’t think so, hon. I’m just about done. I have to fix my hair and then we can start.”
    Wedge had butterflies in his stomach. More like vultures. He couldn’t wait for King to open the box. At the same time he was nervous about it. He had been saving the box for so long. Waiting for this day his entire life. He wanted everything to be perfect.
    â€œI’ll be out on the course,” Wedge told Sally, wanting to be alone for a while.
    â€œOkay, but don’t be long. Remember, I’ve just got to do my hair.”
    Wedge went out and played a