Jason had accused Simon of being, in effect, useless. Simon had replied that careers in general were useless… except careers like mine. Thrust and parry. It was like watching a bar fight conducted in ballet shoes.
Still, I found myself wanting to apologize for Jase. Jason was offended not by Simon's philosophy but by his presence. This week in the Berkshires was supposed to be a reunion, Jason and Diane and me, back in the comfort zone, childhood revisited. Instead we were being treated to confinement at close quarters with Simon, whom Jason obviously regarded as an interloper, a sort of southern-fried Yoko Ono.
I asked Diane how long they'd been traveling.
'About a week,' she said, 'but we'll be on the road most of the summer. I'm sure Jason's told you about New Kingdom. But it's really pretty wonderful, Ty. We have Internet friends all across the country. People we can crash with a day or two. So we're doing conclaves and concerts from Maine to Oregon, July through October.'
Jason said, 'I guess that saves on accommodation and clothing expenses.'
'Not every conclave is an Ekstasis,' Diane shot back.
'We won't be doing much traveling at all,' Simon said, 'if that old car of ours falls apart. The engine misfires and we're getting lousy mileage. I'm not much of a mechanic, unfortunately. Tyler, do you know anything about automobile engines?'
'A thing or two,' I said. I understood this was an invitation to step outside with Simon while Diane tried to negotiate a cease-fire with her brother. 'Let's have a look.'
The day was still clear, waves of warm air rippling up from the emerald lawn beyond the driveway. I listened with, I admit, partial attention, as Simon opened the hood of his old Ford and recited his problems. If he was as wealthy as Jase had implied, couldn't he buy himself a better car? But I guessed it was a dissipated fortune he had inherited, or maybe it was tied up in trust funds.
'I guess I seem pretty stupid,' Simon said. 'Especially in the company I'm keeping. I never much grasped scientific or mechanical things.'
'I'm no expert either. Even if we get the motor running a little smoother you ought to have a real mechanic look at it before you start driving cross-country.'
'Thank you, Tyler.' He watched with a sort of goggle-eyed fascination as I inspected the engine. 'I appreciate that advice.'
The most likely culprit was the spark plugs. I asked Simon whether they had ever been replaced. 'Not to my knowledge,' he said. The car had 60,000-plus miles on it. I used the ratchet set from my own car to pull one of the plugs and showed it to him: 'Here's most of your trouble.'
'That thing?'
'And its friends. The good news is it's not an expensive part to replace. The bad news is, you're better off not driving until we replace it.'
'Hmm,' Simon said.
'We can go into town in my car and pick up replacements if you're willing to wait till morning.'
'Well, surely. That's very kind. We weren't planning to leave right away. Ah, unless Jason insists.'
'Jason will calm down. He's just—'
'You don't have to explain. Jason would rather I wasn't here. I understand that. It doesn't shock or surprise me. Diane just felt she couldn't accept an invitation that made a point of disincluding me.'
'Well… good for her.' I guess.
'But I could just as easily rent a room somewhere in town.'
'No need for that,' I said, wondering exactly how it had come to pass that I was pressing Simon Townsend to stay. I don't know what I had expected from a reunion with Diane, but Simon's presence had aborted any nascent hopes. For the best, probably.
'I suppose,' Simon said, 'Jason's talked to you about New Kingdom. It's been a point of contention.'
'He told me you guys were involved in it.'
'I'm not about to make a recruiting speech. But if you have any anxiety about the movement maybe I can put it to rest.'
'All I know about NK is what I see on television, Simon.'
'Some people call it Christian Hedonism. I prefer New Kingdom. That's the idea in a nutshell, really. Build the chiliasm by living it, right here and now. Make the last generation as idyllic as the very first.'
'Uh-huh. Well… Jase doesn't have much patience with religion.'
'No, he doesn't, but you know what, Tyler? I don't think it's the religion that upsets him.'
'No?'
'No. In all honesty I admire Jason Lawton, and not just because he's famously smart. He's one of the cognoscenti, if you'll pardon a ten-dollar word. He takes the Spin seriously. There are, what, eight billion people on Earth? And pretty much each and every one of them knows, at the very least, that the stars and moon have disappeared out of the sky. But they go on living in denial. Only a few of us really believe in the Spin. NK takes it seriously. And so does Jason.'
This was almost shockingly like what Jason himself had said. 'Not in the same… style, though.'
'That's the crux of the matter. Two visions competing for the public mind. Before long people will have to face up to reality whether they want to or not. And they'll have to choose between a scientific understanding and a spiritual one. That worries Jason. Because when it comes down to matters of life and death, faith always wins. Where would you rather spend eternity? In an earthly paradise or a sterile laboratory?'
The answer didn't seem as clear-cut to me as it evidently did to Simon. I recalled Mark Twain's reply to a similar question:
Heaven, for the climate. Hell, for the company.
* * * * *
There was some audible arguing from inside the house— Diane's voice, scolding, and her brother's sullen, uninflected replies. Simon and I pulled a couple of folding chairs out of the garage and sat in the shade of the carport waiting for the twins to finish. We talked about the weather. The weather was very nice. We reached a consensus on that point.
The noise from the house eventually settled down. After a while a chastened-looking Jason came out and invited us to help him with the barbecue. We followed him around back and made more nice talk while the grill warmed up. Diane stepped out of the house looking flushed but triumphant. This was the way she used to look whenever she won an argument with Jase: a little haughty, a little surprised.
We sat down to chicken and iced tea and the remains of the three-bean salad. 'Do y'all mind if I offer a blessing?' Simon asked.
Jason rolled his eyes but nodded.
Simon bent his head solemnly. I braced myself for a sermon. But all he said was, 'Grant us the courage to accept the bounty You have placed before us this and every other day. Amen.'
A prayer expressing not gratitude but the need for courage. Very contemporary. Diane smiled at me across the table. Then she squeezed Simon's arm, and we proceeded to dig in.
* * * * *
It was early when we finished, sunlight still lingering, the mosquitos not yet at their evening frenzy. The breeze had died and there was a softness in the cooling air.
Elsewhere, things were happening fast.
What we didn't know—what even Jason, for all his vaunted connections, hadn't yet been told—was that somewhere between that first bite of chicken and that last spoonful of three-bean salad the Chinese had pulled out of negotiations and ordered the immediate launch of a brace of modified Dong Feng missiles armed with thermonuclear warheads. The rockets might have been rising in their arcs even as we pulled Heinekens out of the cooler. Icy green rocket-shaped bottles dripping summer sweat.
We cleared the patio table. I mentioned the worn spark plugs and my plan to drive Simon into town in the morning. Diane whispered something to her brother, then (after a pause) nudged him with her elbow. Jase finally nodded and turned to Simon and said, 'There's one of those automotive superstores outside Stockbridge that's open till nine. Why don't I drive you over there right now?'
It was a peace offering, however reluctant. Simon recovered from his initial surprise and said, 'I'm not about
