Games

Games involved were baseball, tennis, and golf. Rock considered each as he lay in his front bedroom bed. There was also a matter of time, which seemed disjointed from and perhaps unrelated to any of the matters at hand.
It was odd to Rock that a fastball he threw months ago from his den was only now about to arrive in a bedroom no more than twenty-five feet away.

An escape route

Nazi troops were spread across a broad expanse of dry, rocky prairies, and Rock had to rely on stealth to avoid them. It was simple enough to say out of sight; indeed, he was somewhat bored, but he knew a need for water and food would at some point supplant the significance of his immediate task.
All at once, Rock was at the top of a very tall, abandoned office building that was coated with white stucco. He had seen it several times before, though it had been years since he had been inside. Its base was at least a thousand feet below the Nazi-strewn prairies, so Rock considered it a nearly surefire escape route. He walked through the top floor to find it filled with what looked like desks from a former newspaper office and instantly wondered if anyone had hidden a gun anywhere.

Substitutes

No one knew exactly what substitute teachers in North Little Rock earned for a day at one of the city's schools, but Jeff Lukas told Rock the school system had stopped paying them anything but fruit-flavored cigars.
Rock could not remember ever having substitute taught, but he had apparently done so four times. He received four cigars in the mail, each in a colorful wrapper symbolic of whichever fruit was the basis of their flavoring.
One of Rock's neighbors said he thought the cigars were delicious. Rock agreed.
"I smoked half of one this morning, and it was really good," Rock said.
"They are good, but wouldn't you rather get a paycheck?" the neighbor said.

Fishing

From ten feet above the water, Rock could see it was filled with old, jagged iron machinery and boat parts. He sat on a pier, fishing with a friend, and shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable, but all he managed to do was lose his grip on the concrete poles that he had pressed his feet against.

Rock struggled to regain his hold, but it seemed unlikely he would. He wasn't sure he would survive a fall into the debris below.

The Hash race

Two three-person teams composed of Little Rock Hash House Harriers were engaged in a relay race around a paved 3.25-mile loop in Burns Park. Rock got there late, in time to see Lacey cross the finish line several minutes ahead of the other team's anchor.
Something about the result disappointed Rock. For one thing, he was clearly dismayed by Lacey's celebratory posture. Apparently, his support had been behind the losing team, for which Josh Barnhorst had run the second leg.
Josh explained that the race had been even through the first two laps, but that Lacey had pulled away to the wide final margin.

To Canada and back

It didn't seem odd to anyone that Rock was about to step outside for a jog to the Canadian border and back. That was his plan for the day, but at the last minute, he noticed on television that there was a snowstorm underway on the northern edge of border states he might need to run through. Even though it had been hot and humid out for weeks, Rock went back to his bedroom to look for a sweater to take with him.

Nashville

He couldn't explain it, but Rock was at his maternal grandmother's house in Nashville, Arkansas, across the street from the old high school grounds and gymnasium. Several Little  Rock Hashers were there, too, including couples Zach and Lacey and David and Christine, each of whom wanted to ride with him to a restaurant for dinner.
Rock had to clean out his car's back seat to make room. Lacey knocked on the passenger-side back door for his attention. She wanted in, but as Rock reached up to find the door lock, he saw nothing but the blue wall beside the bed in his back room. Daybreak had arrived, and he needed to go to the bathroom.

Two crimes

It was difficult for Rock to determine which of his two misdeeds would be judged more significant if he were apprehended for them, though he was somewhat troubled by both.
Rock had stolen a garbage can from a house several blocks from his. He couldn't explain even to himself why he had taken it, but what troubled him most was that he had dumped its load of garbage into the front yard of the house. His guilt bothered him, but he was more concerned that his action had been recorded by a security camera.

John's material excess

Rock's former neighbor John Lukas, a scrawny, scraggly, bearded fifty-year-old who had always exhibited survivalist tendencies was now deeply into the movement. Rock was among a group of a dozen or so invited by John to a ceremony at his house near Bigelow, a town of just over three-hundred people on the northern banks of Lake Maumelle and the Arkansas River near Conway.

They each arrived to watch as John leveled his fifteen hundred square-foot cabin down to its substantial rock crawlspace.

John told everyone he planned to move into the bordering forest and live off the land. Most of the people there, including Rock and his friends Casey Hall and Jeff Krupshaw, were supportive of his cause. Each had brought manila folders stuffed with examples of material excesses they had eliminated from their own lives, but none were willing to go to John's extreme.

Rock asked John why he stopped his destruction at the foundation.

"I don't know for sure," John said. "I think it just goes back to the way I was taught. Someone might need a house here, and they'll have to have a foundation."

What to do

Whereas life on earth was not at stake, Rock felt sure he was now responsible for every advance mankind had made since the advent of western civilization. He didn't know what to do other than turn off the oven, let Jo out, and find his glasses, but he at least imagined there was a possibility that man's level of knowledge could regress to complete ignorance.
The outcome of a basketball game mattered greatly. Rock knew that much. He also knew he was hungry and that all of what was at stake depended on his consumption of food.

Podcast problems

Broadcast and podcast interests had never been higher than they were for John Frostop's and Rock's round of golf scheduled for 10 a.m. Friday at Hindman Park Golf Course. Rock was in charge of production for a podcast he and John had arranged. He planned to direct operations from his back bedroom but for the time being was both confused and panicked.
It was nearly 9:30 and everything was set up. Rock's only problem was that he couldn't find his host Meaghan on any of the dozens of screens in his room. His alarm clock was ringing. Screen options kept popping up. He remembered he was supposed to golf and could not imagine how to fix the technical problems his podcast faced. It was time to go, but Rock knew he needed something to eat.

Another story idea

It wasn't yet daybreak, but at least a dozen Oaklawn Park employees were gathered in the cluttered hallway that runs through the racetrack's business offices. Rock had been summoned there, but he was disappointed to find there was nothing more for him to see than the world's most expensive go-cart.
According to Jason, the track's media liaison, a high-tech company had lent it to the track as a promotion of some sort. It was clear to Rock that either a great deal of technology had gone into the go-cart's construction or that someone had put considerable effort into making it look that way. It was no larger than a child's toy wagon and made of what looked like common computer components, each connected by intricate and colorful wiring.
Rock was disinterested.
"I hate to tell you, Jason, but I'm not going to write a story about a million-dollar go-cart," he said. "I mean, it is noteworthy, but it doesn't belong on a sports page."

Doomsday

Doomsday was inevitable, and for the first time in Rock's experience, the outcome was beyond his control. Someone, perhaps a producer or director with Hollywood connections, had arranged what at first appeared as a fictional presentation that involved the end of God and the heavens, followed by all mankind.
In the drama, the fate of Mary, the mother of Jesus in the Bible's New Testament, was in the hands of its audience, though no one watching knew what hinged on the result. Viewers' boredom was evident to Rock, and they chose to turn off the program, which was a cinematic reproduction of what seemed like a live stage play.
Once the audience had made their choice, they saw Mary's head exposed in an all-black room, extended through a small opening in the floor. Her head was shaved bald, and Rock and the audience watched as it dissolved into a pool of blood and flesh.
Rock wondered why there was still traffic on the street in front of his house. He knew the world was done. Perhaps a tube of Gu would help him feel better through the final hours.

A common assessment

Pam followed Rock's other cat Jo onto his bed as he lay reading late one afternoon. It seemed as if he hadn't seen her for a while. She remained frail, but after he petted the top of her head, it was obvious to him that she had put on weight.

Rock's buddy John Frostop had stopped by after their round of golf. He stood at Rock's bedroom door and laughed.

"Man, I gotta tell you," he said. "You and Jo act exactly alike."

John's assessment was common among Rock's acquaintances. 

A victory for skepticism

All the stuff Rock has to face while teetered on the edge of daybreak and consciousness had begun to wear thin. On this particular morning, he sat on his couch and resolutely refused to participate in a game that involved edible playing cards.
He had seen this one before. To start, the dealer would spread flavorless cards all around, but by the time Rock had begun to question the worthiness of his cooperation, the cards had turned hot in a spicy way that made them seem actively aware of their role in his living room. A loud, rhythmic chirping sound from his back bedroom signaled their heat.
It had become too silly to consider. Rock turned off the alarm and made coffee.

The legend of Ault Ferguson

No one found anything out of order in this high school basketball championship game, though the court was dirt and set outside in the nearly abandoned downtown of Armorel, Arkansas. Rock sat next to a two-man radio crew who represented the visiting Pulaski Academy Bruins, and neither they nor anyone else in attendance was affected by the setting.
There was clutter all around the block-long court, dominated by rusted farm machinery and broken-down cars and pickup trucks. Fans crowded both sides of the street on boardwalks in front of ramshackle, vacant stores.
Everyone there, regardless of which team they were for, was mesmerized by Armorel's three-point specialist Ault Ferguson and the nearly unimaginable comeback he had orchestrated since halftime.
Rock wanted to tell the broadcasters about an Armorel sharp-shooter he had watched back in the spring of 1994 at the Class A tournament in Scranton, but he couldn't remember the player's name. He wondered if Ferguson and the player from all those years ago were related.