Terry Rozier opened his eyes, then squinted them shut again. There was sunlight shining in his face, which always annoyed him when he was trying to capture those last few elusive minutes of sleep. However, he soon opened his eyes again, because there was no reason why there would be sun in his eyes. Every place he ever slept, he ensured that he could sleep in total darkness. At home, it was his blackout shades. At hotels and on planes, it was the mask that he kept tightly secured across his eyes. Light never woke him up because he never allowed it to.
The sunlight pouring into the room was an orangeish, late-afternoon hue. It made the white sheets of his bed glow as if they were weaved from fibers of pure gold. But that was another weird thing: white sheets, to him, meant he was in a hotel room, but they were supposed to be flying out of Atlanta. What was going on?
The peaceful surroundings dampened his worry. Terry relished the incredible softness of the unknown bed for a few moments before reluctantly tossing the covers off of him. Another oddity: he was nude under the sheets. Normally he at least wore his boxers, but looking around the floor, he didn’t see the telltale plaid pair of shorts anywhere. And now that he did take more time to look at the room, it was clear that he was not in a hotel room. First of all, there was no TV or clock or place to plug in his phone (which was also missing). Second of all, the view outside the window was of an idyllic hillside awash in sunlight, not the dismal urban view he would expect from a team hotel stay. On the hillside were stooped fruit trees, which made him think that he was very far out in the country.
In one of the bedroom’s wardrobes he found a red-tasseled tunic. Throwing it over him, he left the room and walked down the hallway that was outside the door. So far, he hadn’t seen or heard anything that would indicate that anybody other than him was present. The place had a distinctly Mediterranean feeling about it, not that he had ever been to a country in the Mediterranean. Ornate mosaics periodically appeared on the stone floor, and ancient-looking frescoes were painted on the walls. Every now and then, there would be a carved statue accentuating a staircase or column. He went up and down stairs, and through many hallways, before realizing that he had lost any sense of place within the large residence.
He had made it to a wide set of double doors that opened to the outside. Beyond those doors was a grassy expanse lined by columns on both sides. And, at the far end of that lawn, he thought he could see a man sitting on a bench.
Terry hesitated to approach the unknown person. He was just beginning to realize how nice it was to be alone. The estate, or whatever it was, had lent him a feeling of calm that he hadn’t felt in…well, he probably hadn’t been so free of his basketball-playing responsibilities since his early childhood. Despite the lack of modern amenities, it already felt more like home than any of the places he had lived since entering the NBA.
However, there was a tickling urge for knowledge in the back of his mind that had to be addressed. So he stepped outside into the warm, but not hot or humid, courtyard and walked towards the man who was staring into the distance, apparently deep in thought. The feeling of cool grass swishing through Terry’s toes was pleasant in a childlike way, and he was slightly disappointed when he reached his goal and stopped his forward movement. “Excuse me…?”
The man looked up, startled but not annoyed. “Oh, hello. We so rarely get visitors here, I had lapsed into one of my many daydreams.”
“Where is here?” Terry asked.
“You have arrived at the Countryside Villa of the Forty Point Scorers”, the man answered. “My name is Linas Kleiza, the Appointed Guardian of the Villa.”
Terry didn’t know what to make of that odd explanation. “I’m dreaming right now, aren’t I?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” Linas answered. “This is a very real place full of very real comforts, and it is very infinite. However, I would caution that it is not wise to think to deeply about the nature of the Villa, for its nature is unknowable.”
Terry sat down on the bench next to Linas, which caused Linas to immediately stand up. “Solitude is the primary perk of the Villa, so I must now say my goodbyes,” he said. “Your arrival has been long-awaited, Terry.”
“Wait, how’d you know my name?” Terry asked, but Linas was already walking away, and didn’t answer. Perhaps, as the Guardian had insinuated, he wasn’t supposed to know. And he found that, as relaxed and content as he was, he didn’t care how much he knew and didn’t know. In that glorious sunlight, he reclined and closed his eyes.