Rollback

"It was. But I actually had fun in grade thirteen. Lots of interesting courses. I even took Latin. It was practically the last year they taught that in public schools in Toronto."

"Latin?" said Percy incredulously.

Don nodded sagely. "Semper ubi sub ubi."

"What’s that mean?"

" ‘Always wear underwear.’ "

Percy grinned.

The game resumed. The Leafs were doing okay, although it was still early in the season. Don didn’t really know the players anymore, but Percy did. "And," Don said, when there was a lull in the play, "our school had a little radio station, Radio Humberside. I was involved with that in grade thirteen, and that’s what got me into my career."

Percy looked at him blankly; Don had retired long before he’d been born. "I used to work at CBC Radio," Don said.

"Oh, yeah. Dad listens to that in the car."

Don smiled. He’d once had a friendly argument with a guy who wrote for the Canadian edition of Reader’s Digest. "Better," Don had said, "to produce something that people only listen to in the car than something they only read on the toilet."

"So, when did you work there?" asked Percy.

"I started in 1986 and left in 2022." Don thought about adding, "And, to save you from asking, Sally Ng was prime minister when I retired," but he didn’t. Still, he remembered being Percy’s age and thinking World War II was ancient history; 1986 must have sounded positively Pleistocene to Percy.

They watched the game some more. The defenseman for Honolulu got three minutes for high-sticking. "So," Don said, "any thoughts about what you’re going to do—"

He stopped himself from saying "when you grow up"; Percy doubtless thought he was plenty grown-up already. " — when you finish school?"

"I dunno," he said, without taking his eyes off the screen. "Maybe go to university."

"To study…?"

"Well, except on weekends."

Don smiled. "No, I meant, ‘To study what?’ "

"Oh. Maybe ornithology."

Don was impressed. "You like birds?"

"They’re all right." Another commercial break was upon them, and Don muted the sound. Percy looked at him, and then, maybe feeling that he wasn’t holding up his end of the conversation, he said, "What about you?"

Don blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah. I mean, now that you’re young again. What are you going to do?"

"I don’t know."

"Have you thought about going back to the CBC?"

"Actually, yeah."

"And?"

Don shrugged. "They don’t want me. I’ve been out of the game too long."

"That sucks," Percy said, with a perplexed face, as if unused to the notion that life could be unfair to adults as well.

"Yeah," said Don, "it does."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don’t know."

Percy considered for a time, then: "It should be something — you know — something important. I looked up how much a rollback costs. If you’re lucky enough to get one of those, you should do something with it, right?"

Don tilted his head, regarding Percy. "You take after your grandmother."

The boy frowned, clearly not sure if he liked that notion.

"I mean," said Don, turning the sound back on as the action started up again, "you’re very insightful."

After Carl and Angela had picked up their kids, Don decided to go for a walk. He needed to clear his head, to think. There was a convenience store three blocks away; he would head over there to get some cashews. They were his favorite indulgence — reasonably low in carbs, but still decadent.

It was a cold, crisp night, and some houses had jack-o’-lanterns out in anticipation of Halloween; appropriately, the trees, denuded of leaves, looked like twisted skeletons writhing toward a clear, dark sky. In the distance, a dog was barking.

His walk took him along the descriptively but prosaically named Diagonal Road, which deposited him near the grounds of Willowdale Middle School. On a whim, he wandered into the school’s large back field, where he used to occasionally go to watch Carl play football all those years ago. He got as far away as he could from the streetlamps — not that it made much difference — and pulled out his datacom. "Help me find Sigma Draconis," he said to it, holding up the small hinged tablet with the display facing toward him, the way he oriented it when using it as a camera.

"Turn around," the datacom said, in its pleasant male voice. "Tilt me higher… higher. Good. Now move me to the left. More. More. No, too far. Back up. Yes.

Sigma Draconis is in the center of the display."

"That bright one near the top?"

"No, that is Delta Draconis, also known as Nodus Secundus. And the bright one farther down is Epsilon Draconis, or Tyl. Sigma Draconis is too dim for you to see."

Crosshairs appeared on the display, centered on a blank part of the sky. "But that’s where it is."

Don lowered the datacom and looked directly at the same emptiness, focusing his thoughts on that star, so close by cosmic standards but still unfathomably distant on a human scale.