Horizon).
He took his prescribed exercise regimen seriously. At least two times a day he made a circuit around his neighborhood, and, just as his doctor had predicted, his walking had steadily improved as his heart grew stronger. Along the way, he weakly bonded with some dog walkers and stay-at-home moms, who lavished attention on the new brawny man in their midst and tried to draw him into their book clubs and afternoon coffees.
He’d gotten to the point where he could jog a few hundred yards, walk, then jog again. Nancy had bought him a wristband heart-rate monitor and he checked it assiduously, staying within his strict limits. Taking orders and obediently following rules rankled him as much as it always had but he never wanted to lie in a hospital bed again.
During the daytime he was alone. Nancy was one of the Washington lemmings and Phillip attended South Lakes High School. When Will wasn’t doing something aerobic or working with barbells to restore his depleted muscle mass he read and very occasionally turned on the TV. The TV news and talk shows dispirited him with their countdown clocks to February 8 midnight and their so-called experts who reported on the motion of every piece of rock within the solar system.
He blamed the media for whipping folks into an agitated frenzy and it didn’t surprise him that things were going from bad to worse. Productivity indices were down as people started drifting from their jobs. The “what the hell” and “eat, drink, and be merry” ethos was taking hold everywhere, and government sloganeering couldn’t break the momentum. Markets were down and alcohol sales were up. Marriages were straining and cracking. Suicides were on the rise. The Chinese Doomsday case wasn’t helping asit seemed to be reminding a dispirited, creaky world that the end was nigh.
So he avoided current events, took no calls from numbers he didn’t recognize and slammed the door on those reporters who sought him out to tap his “unique perspective.”
It was more comforting retreating into the realm of books but even that made him cranky because bookstores had become a pathetic rarity—there weren’t any left in Reston. He’d never made a comfortable migration from cardboard and paper to plastic and bits but he could either pay a hefty premium for a real book to be delivered by a UFedEx van or take the path of least resistance and use one of several tablets that Nancy and Phillip possessed. So he grumbled every time he swiped a screen to turn a page but he enjoyed his Shakespeare and Dante, Steinbeck and Faulkner, all wells he wished he’d plumbed more deeply when he was young.
It was sleeting, and the sidewalks were getting slick. He altered his jogging style to come down flatter on his soles so he wouldn’t slip on his ass and cause one of the housewives to bound from her front door like a St. Bernard with a brandy keg. The street looked less slippery so he hopped off the curb only to be honked at by an approaching car.
The car stopped abruptly, and the window slid down. It was Phillip.
“Goddamn it, Phillip!” Will exclaimed. “I hate electric cars. You can’t hear them coming.”
Phillip shook his head. “You want to get in?”
“I’m exercising. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m done for the day.”
“It’s not even two o’clock. Don’t you have to stay through the last period?”
“Honor students get open-campus privileges.”
“What about wrestling?”
“I quit.”
Will gritted his teeth. “Why?”
“What’s the point?” Phillip said, driving away.
When Will got home, he went straight for the master bathroom to turn on the shower and while the water was heating he made for Phillip’s room. Inside, the music was blaring and he had to bang loudly.
The music stopped and Will heard a dull, “What?”
“Can I come in?”
The door unlocked. Phillip was back on his bed before Will entered.
“I can’t believe you dropped wrestling.”
“Believe
He took his prescribed exercise regimen seriously. At least two times a day he made a circuit around his neighborhood, and, just as his doctor had predicted, his walking had steadily improved as his heart grew stronger. Along the way, he weakly bonded with some dog walkers and stay-at-home moms, who lavished attention on the new brawny man in their midst and tried to draw him into their book clubs and afternoon coffees.
He’d gotten to the point where he could jog a few hundred yards, walk, then jog again. Nancy had bought him a wristband heart-rate monitor and he checked it assiduously, staying within his strict limits. Taking orders and obediently following rules rankled him as much as it always had but he never wanted to lie in a hospital bed again.
During the daytime he was alone. Nancy was one of the Washington lemmings and Phillip attended South Lakes High School. When Will wasn’t doing something aerobic or working with barbells to restore his depleted muscle mass he read and very occasionally turned on the TV. The TV news and talk shows dispirited him with their countdown clocks to February 8 midnight and their so-called experts who reported on the motion of every piece of rock within the solar system.
He blamed the media for whipping folks into an agitated frenzy and it didn’t surprise him that things were going from bad to worse. Productivity indices were down as people started drifting from their jobs. The “what the hell” and “eat, drink, and be merry” ethos was taking hold everywhere, and government sloganeering couldn’t break the momentum. Markets were down and alcohol sales were up. Marriages were straining and cracking. Suicides were on the rise. The Chinese Doomsday case wasn’t helping asit seemed to be reminding a dispirited, creaky world that the end was nigh.
So he avoided current events, took no calls from numbers he didn’t recognize and slammed the door on those reporters who sought him out to tap his “unique perspective.”
It was more comforting retreating into the realm of books but even that made him cranky because bookstores had become a pathetic rarity—there weren’t any left in Reston. He’d never made a comfortable migration from cardboard and paper to plastic and bits but he could either pay a hefty premium for a real book to be delivered by a UFedEx van or take the path of least resistance and use one of several tablets that Nancy and Phillip possessed. So he grumbled every time he swiped a screen to turn a page but he enjoyed his Shakespeare and Dante, Steinbeck and Faulkner, all wells he wished he’d plumbed more deeply when he was young.
It was sleeting, and the sidewalks were getting slick. He altered his jogging style to come down flatter on his soles so he wouldn’t slip on his ass and cause one of the housewives to bound from her front door like a St. Bernard with a brandy keg. The street looked less slippery so he hopped off the curb only to be honked at by an approaching car.
The car stopped abruptly, and the window slid down. It was Phillip.
“Goddamn it, Phillip!” Will exclaimed. “I hate electric cars. You can’t hear them coming.”
Phillip shook his head. “You want to get in?”
“I’m exercising. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m done for the day.”
“It’s not even two o’clock. Don’t you have to stay through the last period?”
“Honor students get open-campus privileges.”
“What about wrestling?”
“I quit.”
Will gritted his teeth. “Why?”
“What’s the point?” Phillip said, driving away.
When Will got home, he went straight for the master bathroom to turn on the shower and while the water was heating he made for Phillip’s room. Inside, the music was blaring and he had to bang loudly.
The music stopped and Will heard a dull, “What?”
“Can I come in?”
The door unlocked. Phillip was back on his bed before Will entered.
“I can’t believe you dropped wrestling.”
“Believe
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