It was still that way. But he was casting a bigger shadow now. He didn't spend his days impressing calculus instructors at Rice. He spent his days positioning himself to influence the course of human history.

He added, "If it happens, yes, I'll have some warning. We'll have some warning. But I don't want Diane worrying about it. Or Simon, of course."

"Great. I'll just put it out of my mind. The end of the world."

"It's no such thing. Nothing's happened yet. Calm down, Tyler. Pour drinks if you need something to do."

As nonchalant as he was trying to sound, his hand trembled as he took four tumblers out of the kitchen cupboard.

I could have left. I could have walked out the door, hustled into my Hyundai and been a long way down the road before I was missed. I thought about Diane and Simon in the front parlor practicing hippie Christianity and Jase in the kitchen taking doomsday bulletins on his cell phone: did I really want to spend my last night on Earth with these people?

Thinking at the same time: but who else? Who else?

* * * * *

"We met in Atlanta," Diane said. "Georgia State hosted a seminar on alternative spirituality. Simon was there to hear C. R. Ratel's lecture. I just sort of found him in the campus cafeteria. He was sitting by himself reading a copy of Second Coming, and I was alone, so I put down my tray and we started talking."

Diane and Simon shared a plush yellow dust-scented sofa by the window. Diane slouched against the armrest. Simon sat alertly upright. His smile had begun to worry me. It never went away.

The four of us sipped drinks while the curtains wafted in the breeze and a horsefly mumbled at the window screen. It was hard to sustain a conversation when there was so much we weren't supposed to talk about. I made an effort to duplicate Simon's smile. "So you're a student?"

"Was a student," he said.

"What are you doing lately?"

"Traveling. Mostly."

"Simon can afford to travel," Jase said. "He's an heir."

"Don't be rude," Diane said, the edge in her voice signifying a real warning. "This once, please, Jase?"

But Simon shrugged it off. "No, it's true enough. I have some money set aside. Diane and I are taking the opportunity to see a little bit of the country."

"Simon's grandfather," Jason said, "was Augustus Townsend, the Georgia pipe cleaner king."

Diane rolled her eyes. Simon, still imperturbable—he was beginning to seem almost saintly—said, "That was in the old days. We aren't even supposed to call them pipe cleaners anymore. They're 'chenille stems.'" He laughed. "And here I sit, heir to a chenille stem fortune." Actually it was a gifts-and-notions fortune, Diane explained later. Augustus Townsend had started in pipe cleaners but made his money distributing tin-press toys, charm bracelets, and plastic combs to five-and-dime stores throughout the South. In the 1940s the family had been a big presence in Atlanta social circles.

Jason pressed on: "Simon himself doesn't have what you'd call a career. He's a free spirit."

"I don't suppose any of us is truly a free spirit," Simon said, "but no, I don't have or want a career. I guess that makes me sound lazy. Well, I am lazy. It's my besetting vice. But I wonder how useful any career will be in the long run. Considering the state of things. No offense." He turned to me. "You're in medicine, Tyler?"

"Just out of school," I said. "As careers go—"

"No, I think that's wonderful. Probably the most valuable occupation on the planet."

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."