The typical thing I’d think of when it comes to falling unconscious is waking up bewildered wondering what had happened in the first place.

This wasn’t what happened. Instead, I ‘came to’, for lack of a better term, standing near to a pine branch in the middle of the future site for our ball park. I had no idea what had happened, but I could see we were nearing dark, indicating a lot of time had passed.

I’d mentioned the pine branch because there was a strange man standing with his foot on it. He was five feet to my right. Then I saw a similar branch on the ground probably forty feet to my left, and a woman was standing with her foot on it, and man standing next to her. They were chatting casually while watching a man holding a spruce branch several feet from them, hovering over a pine branch of his own.

Wait… what I was observing, was a makeshift ball game. As I scanned around, I could see these pine branches were stand ins for bases, and one as well was used for home plate. Proctor was standing where the pitcher’s mound would be, and there were three villagers each with positions taken up in the outfield behind me. Then there were crowds of people huddled on either side of this potential ball diamond where the team dugouts would be located.

What in the world?

“Hello to my second baseman,” Proctor said, glancing back at me from his pitching position. “Wakey, wakey. Are you with us?”

“What just happened?” I said.

“Uh, Glora made decent contact, and made it to first,” Proctor said. “That advanced Frederick there to second.”

I looked at the man with his foot on the pine branch next to me, and he smiled, showing me his three good teeth.

“It’s still nil, nil,” Proctor said, “but, we’re only in the third inning, so…”

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head as though having been in a drunken stupor, “I’m having a hard time here.”

Proctor had the fist sized stone in his hand, as he’d been ready to lob it toward the man waiting at home plate. He waved his arms to everyone around us.

“Time out,” he said, shouting so everyone could hear. “Everyone, take a break. I wish to speak with Adam.”

All of those gathered walked slowly from the imaginary ball field we’d apparently created in the middle of the open land west of Moonlight village. They huddled into groups, and chatted amongst themselves, while Proctor ambled over my way.

“Are you alright?” Proctor said.

Trevor wandered over from where he’d been standing in so called left field.

“What’s the concern?” Trevor said. He took a knee, probably feeling this should be a more private conversation out of earshot of the villagers.

“You look quite pale,” Proctor said. “What’s happened?”

“I feel odd,” I said. “I’d passed out. But, now I’m standing here. I don’t get it.”

“Yes,” Proctor said, “after you drank the soda. You did seem to lose consciousness. But, you were only out for a moment. Then you seemed fine.”

“Oh man,” I said. “That’s not my experience at all.”

“Really?” Proctor said. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, for starters, what time is it?” I said.

“Obviously, it’s dusk,” Proctor said.

“Right,” I said, “I had that drink in the middle of the day.”

“I’m not certain I follow,” Proctor said.

“I have no recollection of anything after drinking that soda,” I said.

Proctor’s face dropped. “Oh,” he said. Then a flicker of recognition lit up his face. “Oh my. Simulation.”

“Please tell me what you’re speaking of,” Trevor said. “What has happened?”

“The magic of that drink,” I said. “It’s caused me to black out. I’ve skipped time, in a way.”

“Skipped?”

“Simulated,” I said. “I’ve been here, but at the same time I haven’t been here. I guess I didn’t want to experience teaching you all the game of baseball, but it still happened anyway.”

“I don’t understand,” Trevor said.

I began rubbing my temples. “I’m not sure I do either,” I said.

“My oh my, this is quite a thing,” Proctor said. “So, you don’t know what’s gone on all afternoon?”

“Not a clue,” I said. “There was something the System said. What was it? Five drinks? So that meant five hours?”

“You’ve simulated five hours of experienced time,” Proctor said. “Fascinating.”

“And what’s happened in that time?” I said.

“Well, you explained the game of baseball to everyone here,” Proctor said. “And, it was quite extraordinary. It was as though you had the manual for baseball itself as though handed down from on high, and you were reciting from it.”

The idea of that caused a stir in my stomach. A spark of excitement.

“Really?” I said. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

“Nor did I,” Proctor said. “But, you had a way of conveying all of this in depth information on the sport that had to have been supplied to you, from the System I presume. The people here took to it immediately. You’d imparted a great deal about the game in a rather short period of time. You’ve made great use of those five hours. We were just in the midst of simulating a ball game when you seem to have just snapped out of your trance only now.”

“I’m amazed at this,” Trevor said. “I know of nothing like this. But, I quite enjoyed your descriptions of baseball, and how the game and the teams work. Many here are quite eager to know more. We feel destined to it.”

“Grape ‘Splosion,” I said. “Who knew?”

“I see it applicable to other aspects of running the franchise,” Proctor said. “I don’t know to what extent as yet. But, it’s nice to have in our back pocket.”

“So, everyone here knows at least a little about baseball now?” I said.

“More than a little for some of them,” Proctor said. “I’ve been quite impressed by how quickly some have taken to it. You’ve taught me a fair bit I didn’t know either.”

“What’s weird is, based on what you’ve described, I was probably saying things that I consciously don’t know about baseball either,” I said. “I’m going to wind up asking you to teach me things you’ve already learned from me in that time I have no recollection of. Oh, my head hurts.”

With darkness upon us, there was no point in continuing the mock baseball game. Proctor dismissed everyone, and what struck me was just how reluctant all seemed to be to leave. It was as though my simulation magic from the soda can had put all of those villagers under a trance as well. Like they were stuck being transfixed by this baseball thing.

“Rest well tonight,” Proctor said to me as we wandered back toward the village. “Tomorrow we’re going on a hiring spree.”

“We are?” I said.

“Oh yes,” Proctor said. “I didn’t tell you the other part. In those two seconds you were out, my gold pouch refilled. It’s like the System rewarded you for drinking as much of the soda as you did.”

Sleep came easy that night, which may have been the residual effects of the soda. Didn’t matter to me because the next morning felt so great.

The weather wasn’t the best. It was every bit as cold as it’d been since I’d arrived in Moonlight. Proctor and I convened at a pine table near a roaring fire on a patch of flattened mud. There were two stone huts nearby. Lots of villagers milling about, pouring themselves bowls of porridge from clay vats. A lot of sharing of oat loaves around fires. Quite a bit of chatter, and laughter, just general camaraderie. Nice to see that the village had come together, and grown closer after the giant house centipede attack.

Two kind ladies had given Proctor and I porridge as well as portions of loaf. We scarfed down our food, and I was happy to see Proctor just as eager to get going as I was, even though I had no idea what was planned… or, that there even was a plan. Nice to have a collaborator around to take certain things off your plate.

“What’s on the agenda, boss?” I said.

“For the record,” Proctor said. “I’d run all this by you yesterday. But, apparently you weren’t actually there.”

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Hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. But he was right, I had no clue.

“We’re addressing the cold climate we’re forced to play in,” Proctor said. “Our first meeting’s with our fire keepers.”

“Fire keepers?” I said.

Proctor nodded. “Your idea, and a good one,” he said.

Minutes later we had three people sat on a pine bench across the fire from us. Two young men with brown beards, and a young woman with long brown hair.

“Obviously,” Proctor said to them, “player comfort is paramount, but we wish to make stadium guests as warm as we can too.”

Their job would be to keep the fires lit around the baseball stadium (which we hadn’t built yet, but which apparently the locals understood was coming), in order to keep spectators and players warm alike.

Interesting idea. Proctor offered each of them a salary of 2 gold coins (which, again, the locals referred to as ‘currency’) per week to ensure the fires were always in plentiful supply.

Once our three new hires walked from our fire, we were greeted by the friendly face of a mustached middle aged man.

“This is Lawrence,” Proctor said. “He’s going to be our Procurer.”

“Right,” I said, pretending I remembered talking about this the previous afternoon. Proctor saw right through this.

“He’ll be sourcing the materials we need to construct our equipment,” Proctor said. “You’ve got quite a few locals on board with getting equipment together.”

“Equipment?”

“Gear,” Proctor said.

“Not to worry,” said Lawrence with a professional smile. “I understand what you’re after. This thing, the bat. Baseballs. Your gloves. I have a parchment inked with your requests. Your man’s been quite thorough. Bases. Your home plate. I have a few craftspeople in mind who can fashion these once I’ve acquired the elements.”

“Excellent,” Proctor said, rising to meet the man with a forearm shake. “Two currency per week as we’d discussed?”

“Lovely,” Lawrence said.

He dismissed himself, and I was beside myself.

“Proctor! This is amazing,” I said. “I feel like we’re actually making progress.”

“That’s the idea.”

After about ten minutes of idle chatter, we were greeted by three women, and two men whose faces I was certain I’d seen out by our makeshift ball field the day before.

“These are our new stadium committee members,” Proctor said. “These will be rotating positions. Greta, Flora, Deirdre, Val, and Colin are our first ones.”

The five of them would oversee all things to do with the as yet unbuilt stadium. I liked the idea, because it meant delegating a bunch of smaller tasks to do with other stadium hires, instead of requiring me or Proctor to get into the weeds over every little thing, when we’d likely be too busy with team related issues. I also liked we were hiring five of them, as opposed to an even number. No ties, in cases of disagreement. We were paying each of them two gold coins a week.

And, speaking of stadium positions falling under the purview of our new stadium committee, we also hired five stadium security supervisors (say that five times fast), also at a rate of two currency a week.

Before you could even turn around, the franchise’s level of staffing bloomed into a full grown roster.

But, we didn’t stop there. Proctor was intent that we make the most of the time we had. The April tournament was definitely breathing down our necks.

“Groundskeepers?” I said after Proctor told me whom we’d be meeting with next. “Proctor, we don’t even have any grounds.”

“You’d already multiplied the spot where Trevor had scraped it of scrub grass,” Proctor said. “We’ll seed it, and you’ll do your thing again. And, again.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” I said.

“Regardless, eventually the ball park will be a reality, and we will be in need of someone to oversee the quality of the playing surface,” Proctor said. “It matters from a standpoint of efficient play, as well as player health and safety. I’d imagine the System will have its own requirements where standards are concerned.”

“How many groundskeepers are we talking about?” I said.

Apparently, we were hiring five. Five seemed to be a popular number. Proctor thought it was a good starting point, and we could always revisit our staffing levels later.

Sure enough, five, muddy, stocky villagers came through. They looked like they had a lot of experience doing manual labor. These were our new groundskeepers. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental however, in assessing their experience. We were living in a place where you’re almost constantly exposed to the elements. Looking rough came with the territory.

Yes, you guessed it, we were paying our groundskeepers two gold a week as well. Cha-ching, cha-ching… the salaries were mounting up, and I was worried we weren’t going to have enough coins to keep everyone paid, and us from being on the business end of an angry mob. Proctor didn’t seem fazed.

“The money will come,” he said. “You’ll see.”

One thing Proctor and I had agreed upon, well before my soda induced black out, was the need for roving scouts we could position outside Moonlight’s village limits. We needed experienced riders who would watch for any approaching threats, outside the walls once built, and on the other side of the proposed trench as well. Someone who could roam the outskirts, and then serve as an early warning system to our perimeter security people for any threats on the way.

Our friend Gak recommended four of his colleagues to serve as village scouts. They happily agreed to do it for two gold per week.

By midday our whirlwind hiring spree wound down. We’d burned through quite a bit of our split logs too. Trevor showed up carrying a massive load of wood for burning. His mother, Mora, accompanied him, as did Hag.

Trevor accepted a blanket from his mother, and spread it on the ground. He sat on the blanket next to the fire, and took it upon himself to place fresh logs into the flames.

Mora and Hag sat at the table with Proctor and I. Mora carried a wool satchel, from which she produced a scroll of parchment, a pot of ink, and a quill.

“Been quite looking forward to this,” Mora said, “ever since you’d given my son the suggestion.”

She was saying it to me, so I felt compelled to nod as though I knew what she was speaking about. Proctor, of course, covered for me.

“Indeed,” he said. “Moonlight’s logo, and colors are of paramount importance.”

He gave me a slight elbow to the ribs.

“Mm-hmm, yes,” I said. “The logo. Yes. Colors. Quite important.”

“We’re hoping to have uniforms stitched as soon as possible,” Proctor said. “The sooner we decide on the team symbology, and our color scheme, the better.”

“The Moonlight Magic,” Trevor said. “I dreamt of it, mother.”

“So proud,” Mora said. “‘Tis a lovely name you’ve conjured, son.”

“It’s grown on me,” Proctor said. “Adam likes it too.”

He sounded as though he was saying something that wasn’t true as a way of covering for me, but in truth I actually did like the name. I thought it was fitting for the village, and a pleasant name for the ball club.

“I do like it,” I said. “Genuinely.”

“And the sigil?” Hag said, getting right down to business in her usual way.

“Right,” I said. “I was envisioning something simple. Obviously, the image of a full moon comes to mind.”

“It is special to us,” Mora said. “The moon rules us all.”

Proctor and I nodded along.

“A moon then?” Hag said. “Full moon?”

“Yes,” I said. “With a wispy cloud or two. Maybe a smaller cloud touching the moon near its upper right. A longer, thicker cloud touching its bottom left. And, a white moon, or perhaps a slight silver.”

“Beautiful,” Mora said. She dipped the quill, and scrawled notes upon her parchment.

Amazingly, I received no push back against my logo suggestions.

“How about the team colors,” Proctor said.

“I have some thoughts there as well,” I said.

“I was hoping you would.”

“Midnight blue,” I said. “And… silver.”

“Not gold?” Proctor said. “I was picturing dark and light contrasting, but the light I was picturing was gold.”

“Hmm,” I glanced upward trying to imagine it in my mind’s eye. “No, I’m thinking silver would be better. I think it’d look better on the uniform. Or when we’re talking about the color of the uniform’s trim.”

“We agree on white uniforms, yes?” Proctor said.

“In this place?” I said. “How would you ever keep it clean? We may as well keep our colors gray, or brown.”

“I would clean,” Hag said. “I would keep white.”

You only needed to see the old woman’s resolute face, and hear the forthrightness in her voice to immediately believe her.

“Then, yes, white would be my preference,” I said. “With the moonlight crest. With midnight blue and silver accents.”

Go ahead and laugh. I was laughing at myself too. Here I was a bus driver pretending I knew anything about design.

“Good,” Mora said, finishing up jotting her notes. “We can stitch beautiful surcoats from this.”

“Surcoats?” I said.

“Uniforms,” Proctor said. “They're not the same from our understanding. But, she knows what she means. Leave it to Mora. She knows what she’s doing.”

She smiled. “I tell this to my son all the time,” Mora said.

We agreed to pay Mora and Hag five gold coins per week to be in charge or all things to do with team uniforms, and kit. I was excited to have these ladies who were so organized, and knowledgeable as part of the team.

With that important matter done, we sent our friends away so we could conduct our final meeting.

Proctor found a local healer who would serve as the team doctor.

“Do we refer to him as ‘doctor’?” I said, just before the man arrived.

“No,” Proctor said. “I don’t believe so. He isn’t an actual doctor.”

“Do they even have doctors in this time?”

“I’d imagine they were thought of as such,” Proctor said. “The same way we would regard a medical doctor in our modern world. I just don’t imagine they were called doctors. Perhaps, physicians? Surgeons?”

“What about barbers?” I said. “Didn’t they have barbers perform a lot of medical stuff way back when? Amputations, and such?”

“I’d imagine that was performed by surgeons,” Proctor said. “I’m not certain about this.”

“Sometimes I miss the internet,” I said. “Never thought I’d hear myself say that, but…”

“Understandable.”

A slight old man named Timmins came to our fire pit. Turns out, he referred to himself as a ‘physician’.

“I’ve treated a great many here,” Timmins said, speaking of his experience. “Many more of recent as well. For obvious reasons.”

We both nodded gravely with him.

“Your experiment will bring an interesting variety of cases,” Timmins said. “I look forward to helping you.”

We agreed to his request of five currency per week.

“Do you even realize what we’ve done here?” I said to my Vice President.

“I do,” Proctor said. “We’ve hired twenty six new employees, and committed to paying a total of sixty one gold coins in salary per week.”

Okay then.

It was only mid afternoon, but we’d seen so many faces, and we’d been sitting around the fire long enough, I was spent. My lungs felt smoky, and my mind boggled at the amount of gold we’d promised to a lot of people.

“Now what?” I said.

“I think tomorrow we should finally tackle what might be the most important thing of all,” Proctor said.

He didn’t need to elaborate, and I didn’t need to ask. With my shoulders slumped, I expelled a tired and knowing groan.

“The players,” I said, wearily.

Proctor nodded, and I could see it brought him no joy to say it either.

“The players.”