I played mini golf with my neighbor's family. Their son Caleb is seven. I treated the course with respect. I read the wind. I checked the turf. Caleb watched my first putt and said, "You gotta bank it off the whale." I banked it off the whale. Hole in one. I bowed to my sensei. He was eating a Push Pop. For eighteen holes, he guided me. "Not that hard." "Aim at the clown's nose." "The windmill is slow. Just go." Every word was scripture. The Push Pop turned his tongue blue. His wisdom remained pure. On the 18th hole, my ball dropped into the winning slot. A bell rang. FREE GAME. I gave the coupon to my sensei. He inspected it like a contract, front and back, then put it in his pocket, next to a rock. A very good rock. I know a treasure vault when I see one. His father says Caleb checks his pocket every morning. The coupon expires in thirty days. We are going back on Saturday.