Forced to wager a guess, there had to be about sixty people gathered at the site where we’d planned to build the ball park. Pretty encouraging, considering how close we came to being taken out by a mob before the huge bug attack.

The only thing I could think was the tragedy caused a change of heart among many, while the so called ring leaders were largely wiped out.

Whatever their reason for being curious about baseball, I was overjoyed they cared at all. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how much I even cared about baseball, as it wasn’t something I was fanatical about in my previous life, but the System of course had made me care, so it was good to have others supportive of the franchise building endeavor. Didn’t make it any less frustrating trying to explain the sport, however.

“We’re in the outfield,” Trevor shouted to me, as a point of clarification.

“Yes,” I said. And, I turned again to the crowd watching us. “You see Trevor, he’s in center field. It’s called that because it’s in the middle of the three positions. You have three outfielders. One is in left field, that’s Dillard over there.”

Dillard waved upon hearing his name. I’d put him in the left field position, and moved the barbarian, Gak to the right field position. Proctor came over, and stood next to me again.

“And, Gak is in right field,” I said, pointing to the man standing nearest to the gatherers.

“Why not four? Why not five?” Shouted a woman from the crowd.

“The rules of baseball say you have three outfielders,” I said.

“But why?” The woman said.

I glanced at Proctor, wondering if he had anything helpful to say. He didn’t. Or, more likely, he did but again enjoyed watching me squirm.

“I suppose four or five or six people in the outfield would be too many,” I said.

“But why are they there?”

Then it struck me, we hadn’t even discussed the point of the game in the first place. Part of me wanted to scream to the sky in pure exasperation because I felt completely inadequate to be the person meant to teach an entire village about baseball.

Waving my arms to the three guys I’d put in the mock outfield, they came running over to Proctor and I. I walked closer to the crowd.

“Okay,” I said. “First things first. We must play baseball here, in Moonlight, because we’re being forced to do it.”

A few heads bowed in solemn acceptance of that fact.

“And, here’s the thing with many sports, including baseball,” I said. “Well, first of all, do you folks even have a concept of what sports are?”

“Said it was games didn’t ya?” Dillard said.

“Competition,” Trevor added.

I nodded. “Right,” I said. “I suppose you’ve called them athletics. Your man, Ulrich, he’s a famed athlete from here, yes?”

“Ulrich would run and run,” said a man a few rows back in the crowd. “Great athlete.”

“Okay,” I said. “Think about Ulrich running. Was he running in an event?”

No one among the gathering spoke. They didn’t know what I meant by ‘event’ was my guess.

“Why was Ulrich running?” I said.

“‘Twas the Demon Race,” Dillard said. “Ya race the demon chasing ya, and them athletes from other villages. At the end, ya stone the loser.”

Brutal, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Alright,” I said, running with an example these people would understand, “that’s a sport. The running. The athletic thing Ulrich was doing. That’s a sport.”

“We’re gonna stone our friends in base ball?” Dillard said.

That drew a lot of frowns from everyone staring at me.

“No, no, no,” I said, and I had my hands out in front of me. “I’m saying that’s an example of a sport. Baseball is a sport, but it’s entirely different from what you were talking about. It’s a team sport. Ulrich was in an individual sport, meaning he was competing on his own against other individuals. A single person against other single people.”

“But, he raced for the village,” Trevor said. “For us.”

“Right,” I said, “but it was just him running the race. It wasn’t all of you in the village doing the running. He was running for you, on your behalf.”

“I understand,” Trevor said.

“Good,” I said. “So, with baseball, it’s a team sport. We’re going to have a team of people, and they will play the sport for the village, on behalf of all of you.”

“Can I play?” A man yelled from the crowd.

This led to a chorus of calls from the gathering to be part of the village’s team. Again, I held out my hands to calm people.

“That’s not how it works,” I said. “We’ll figure out who the sport’s players will be in due course. For now, I’m just teaching you how the sport itself functions. We’ll have a chance to decide the players later.”

“Why are there three outfielders?” Trevor said.

“Right, I was getting off track,” I said. “This is what I wanted to cover before we get back to describing the positions. The point… the point of the sport. Ulrich’s point was to race against other racers in order to win. In baseball, our Moonlight team of players is going to try and win against another village’s team of players.”

“What village?” Gak said. “Perhaps we battle and swamp them first. Kill them dead. Then, no need for baseball.”

His notion seemed popular judging from the laughs, and voices of support from the gatherers.

“We don’t have that option,” I said. “We’re not doing that.”

“Is you the mayor?” Shouted a lady, angrily. “Who’s you to say?”

“Of course I’m not the mayor,” I said. “But you know about the System, right?”

“We knows them voices from above thundered down to us before yous showed up,” Dillard said. “Told us we do the base ball or we die.”

Then Dillard turned away from me to face everyone else.

“He’s the base ball,” Dillard said, pointing at me. “He ain’t the mayor, but we must listen to him we wanna live.”

“Look,” I said, “I’m not here to hurt you, kill you, whatever. I didn’t ask to come here. I was brought here by those same voices you’re talking about. They want me to entertain them. This is theater for them. They want me to run a baseball team. It’s why I’m here. The team has to represent this place. It’s my team, and it’s your team, and however we do in this sport called baseball is going to be how we do as a people. It will determine whether we live or die. So, no, I’m not your mayor, but the System put me in charge of this village’s baseball team, and baseball is going to rule us all. Long story short, unfortunately, you’re going to have to listen to me.”

My words hung out there on the cold wind for a good thirty seconds. We all stood there under an overcast sky looking at each other, and I wasn’t certain these people weren’t going to flip out and murder me at the drop of a hat, the friendly giant included.

“Go on,” said another random spectator, “tell us what to do then.”

No one was leaving, so that was a positive sign. I’d taken that as the green light to carry on.

“Back to Gak’s point,” I said. “We’re not doing battle with the other villages, other towns, cities, kingdoms, whatever. Not in the literal sense. I mean, we’re not going to be fighting wars, at least I hope not anyway. Instead, the System will have you fighting a different way. Instead, of swords, and arrows, and spears out on a battle field, you’re going to fight your enemies on a different sort of field. It’s called a baseball field, or a ball park.”

“But we will be fighting then?” Gak said. “Tell me we’d be fighting.”

“Yes, you’ll be fighting,” I said.

That drew some blood lusting smiles from the crowd.

“But, not actually killing anyone,” I said. “No one dies in baseball, well, ideally not anyway. It’s a sport. Just like Ulrich running a race. Your team will play or fight, if you’d rather, against your enemy’s team. One will win, one will lose.”

“And death to the loser?”

“No,” I said. “Not immediately, as far as I know. If we lose too many times, then maybe. But, if we win, we stand to gain a lot. The whole village will be better off. Our lives will improve. The buildings, the roads, our gold stores. Everything will get better. Basically, baseball is how we’re going to fight wars, it’s how we’re going to conquer, and vanquish our enemies.”

The gatherers began to nod, and their eyes lit up at the thought.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“How do we win then?” Asked a woman from the crowd. “How do we in the baseball war? I want to crush Murphy Mountain into dust.”

“Aye,” Gak said. “A mountain of dust. I should love nothing more.”

You should’ve seen how enthusiastic everyone gathered was for the idea of killing everyone not from Moonlight. Geez, these people were violent.

I went with it though, because it was my best chance to have these folks understand the game.

“You’ll get that chance with baseball,” I said. “The team that represents you, and represents the village will play against Murphy Mountain, and Dal County, and whatever other places are around here. Probably even far away kingdoms too.”

“We’re playing the base ball against all of ‘em?” Dillard said.

“I believe so,” I said. “That’s the idea.”

“So many wars,” Gak said. “I’ve waited long for this. ‘Tis our destiny, isn’t it?”

The barbarian rubbed his hands together as if about to pick up a spear, and throw it through the hearts of his enemies then and there.

“Destiny,” I said. “Sure. The System has made it so. Anyway, you will have your chance to defeat all of those you hate. You’ll do it through baseball, through your team. How you win? You win by beating the baseball team from the other village. It’s your team versus your team. If Ulrich’s sport of running was him running against a certain number of other racers, in baseball it is one team fighting one team.”

“Ulrich raced twelve,” Trevor said.

“Okay,” I said, “in baseball, it’s one against one. One team of people against one other team of people. The people on your team work with you. You work together to beat the other village’s team.”

“Beat ‘em how?”

“It’s a contest, a sport. Ulrich’s sport, his race, he had to run faster than the other racers, right?”

So far I still had them. I could read their faces enough to know they still understood me.

“In baseball, your team works together to build something, and you have to build more of those things, than the other village’s team,” I said.

“I ain’t a builder,” Dillard said. “Ya must have Kestrel on the team then, ain’t ya?”

“No,” I said. “It’s not that kind of building. It’s not a hut, or a tree shelter, or a pathway. In baseball, you’re building a thing called a run.”

That elicited a fair number of frowns.

“A run?” Trevor said. “Like Ulrich running the race?”

I had to close my eyes to think for a second. How are you going to do this? I wondered internally.

“No, not that kind of running,” I said. “It’s just called that. It’s just a word. Your team has to build this thing we’re calling a run, but it’s not necessarily about running itself.”

“Baseball’s bloody vexing,” Gak said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.

“I believe I understand,” Trevor said. “I could call the spruce tree over yonder a run, but it’s actually a tree.”

I wasn’t sure I understood where he was going, but I nodded, and went with it anyway.

“Sure,” I said.

“The baseball team isn’t going to run,” Trevor said. “They’re going to make a thing called a run.”

“Very good,” I said. “You’re right, for the most part. You’re building this thing we call a run. However, you are still going to have to actually run when you play this sport.”

A sea of confused faces.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll explain.”

“Yeah,” Dillard said. “How ya build this thing? The run? What’s it look like? A tree?”

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t look like anything. It’s just a word. Like this-”

I held up my index finger.

“See how I’m holding up one finger?” I said. “That’s the number, one. Imagine I just told you to think about the number one, but without holding up the finger. I’m telling you now to build a run, but without actually, physically holding anything. Like, I could tell you to go about building a chair, but I don’t actually want a chair, just the thought of the chair.”

“We build it in our minds?” Trevor said. “We dream of a chair?”

“Right,” I said.

“Where is this going?” Proctor said.

At this point, I wasn’t sure, but I felt like I had some weird momentum going.

“Yes, so imagine, you’ve built a chair only in your mind,” I said. “You didn’t actually build a chair as something you can touch, and feel, and use. You’ve built a chair as a dream in your imagination. Something you can see from your thoughts. In baseball, that’s what we call a run. And, your village’s baseball team has to build more of these than the team from the other villages.”

“With only what we think?” Trevor said.

“We can think of more of ‘em than other villages, truly,” said a villager. “Why we need to stand out here and do that? How’s that win a war?”

“Okay,” I said. “Here’s the thing. You’re building this thing you can’t touch, or feel, just like the imaginary chair, but in baseball, in order to build this thing, you have to actually do real physical things with your body.”

“But not really building the thing?” Trevor said. “My head aches.”

“It’s like Ulrich,” I said. “When he runs across the finish line-”

“The death line,” Trevor said.

“Okay, the death line,” I said, acknowledging the correction. “Ulrich crosses the death line, and imagine, each time he does that ahead of his enemies he gets rewarded with a chair. But, not an actual, real chair you can touch, and feel, but the idea of a chair. Imagine, every time Ulrich beats another racer, he gets rewarded with one of these chairs.”

“But, not a real chair, only a chair we dream of,” Trevor said.

“Yes.”

“I see what you’re trying to do here,” Proctor said. “It’s rather clumsy.”

“No kidding,” I said.

Two points for Proctor, stating the obvious. I’d never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer. I was a freaking bus driver before this stupid calamity.

“So, in baseball, in this sport, your team is going to perform just like Ulrich would perform in a running race. Except, your baseball team is going to do baseball things. Things that are expected in that sport, just like running and being a faster runner is expected in Ulrich’s sport. And, every time you do those baseball things better than the other village’s team, you get rewarded with this thing you can’t feel, or touch, but it’s given to you, it is yours. And, the more of them you make, create, build, the more of them you have, the better chance you have to beat your enemies.”

“And you call them, runs?” Trevor said.

“Precisely.”

Amazingly, I believed I was starting to get through.

“How we build them runs then?” Dillard asked.

“The team, each of the people on the team, they have to create runs, or build runs by starting at a place called home. And then, they will try to leave home, and get back to their home,” I said.

Dillard narrowed his eyes. “But why would you ever leave your home?”

“For battle, good man!” Gak bellowed.

That caused the crowd to laugh.

“Yes, baseball is a battle, remember?” I said. “This is how you will your wars from now on.”

“Right then,” Dillard said. “We start at home.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s called home plate. You will stand at home plate.”

“Home… plate?” Dillard said.

“But no food then?” Shouted a woman.

“No food,” I said. “Not that kind of plate.”

“But it appears as a plate?” Trevor asked, and he traced a circle in the air with his enormous fingers.

“It doesn’t,” I said. “I know, confusing. It’s, well, what do you call that shape?” I threw a quizzical look at Proctor.

“Pentagon?” Proctor said, and he shrugged.

“Right, a pentagon,” I said. “It looks like this-”

I drew the shape in the air with my fingers. A few among the gatherers nodded.

“Anyway, you stand next to it, and that’s where you start,” I said. “And, that’s called home or home plate. And, you have to try and get from that starting point to a place called first base. Think of it as you have to leave your home, and go man a fortress.”

“Ah, I see,” Gak said. “I like it.”

“But is it guarded?” Asked an anonymous man.

He caused me to snap my fingers with excitement. “Yes!” I shouted. “Glad you asked. It is guarded. The other team will have a man posted there. And, you have to leave your home, or home plate, and you have to occupy this fortress.”

“But how?”

“We’ll get there,” I said. “But for now, what you need to know about baseball is you and your team are working together to build runs. And you have to build more of them than the team of your enemy. So, you must leave home, and after occupying fortresses, you have to get back home again. All without being caught.”

“Oh I would be excellent at this,” Gak said. “I have slaughtered many a sentry in my time.”

“Well, this isn’t really that,” I said. “This is a different kind of battling, remember. You’re not actually killing anyone. Anyway, you leave home, you occupy the first fortress. We call this, first base.”

“And there’s more than one?” Trevor said.

“Yes, exactly,” I said. “After you occupy first base, you must try to occupy a second fortress, we call it second base. Sometimes you can do this on your own, sometimes you need help from the people on your team.”

“Is there a third fortress?”

“Yes, and same thing,” I said. “You have to get to the third fortress, or third base after occupying the first, then the second one. Again, you can do this on your own, or you can do with help.”

“Then ya go to the fourth fort,” Dillard said. “We get it, ya fool.”

“Ha, not so fast,” I said. “There is no fourth fortress. There is no fourth base. There’s only three. And, once you’ve occupied those, then you have to try and get back to your home. Back to home plate. Once you’ve done that, you’ve built that thing we call a run.”

“Too easy,” Gak said. “Three fortresses? And, what, one sentry at each? Ha!”

Couldn’t help but smile. “Not as easy as you think,” I said. “To occupy each base takes a fair bit of effort. Immensely so when you’re trying to get all the way from first base, to second, then third, and then back to your home again.”

“And we do this without killing the sentry?” Asked Torag, Gak’s arrogant friend.

“No killing in baseball, ideally,” I said.

“How can we take a fort without killing its guard?” One of the nameless men asked.

“Ya didn’t hear him?” Dillard said. “He said it’s a base, ain’t it? First base. Second base.”

“And, third, yes,” I said.

“But they have guards, yes? One at each?” Said a villager.

“Correct.”

“Then how’s we going to occupy it?”

“You’re going to earn it,” I said.

I may as well have told the crowd up was down, and down was up. I’m pretty sure I’d scrambled their brains. That’s when I happened to glance at the ground, and spotted a fist sized rock laying in the cold mud.

I turned to the giant in my midst. “Hey, Trevor,” I said to him. “Could you please go over to the tree line, and break off a thick branch? Not too large though. Say, a branch about as long as my arm?”

“I will,” Trevor said, and off he went.

“You there,” I pointed to one of the random strangers gathered. “Pass me that stone, will you?” I pointed to the fist sized rock, and the man plunked it into my palm.

The crowd watched Trevor the giant bound away to the bit of forest west of us. He snapped a sizable tree branch with ease before heading back our way. I grasped the stone in my hand, and wrapped my fingers around its mud coated surface imagining myself a ball player like those I’d seen on TV.

“What’s this about then?” Dillard said. He pointed at the rock I was holding.

“It’s about building runs, and how you get from home in order to occupy the first fortress, er, first base,” I said.

“Yeah, and how we gonna do that?” Dillard said.

“With this,” I said. And I held up the stone to the whole crowd, up in front of my face as if presenting them with a rare diamond.

“Ah, so there will be a stoning,” Gak said, smiling maniacally.

“Not exactly,” I said. “But, pay attention.”

The big group leaned themselves forward, crowding around me, authentically curious.

“Check this out,” I said, and I gripped the rock again as if it was a baseball, just as Trevor arrived with a big stick. “I’ve got something cool to show you.”