https://youtu.be/g_N-aw_j_KM
Luguentz Dort awoke without opening his eyes, relishing the comfort of his bed as he vaguely wondered why his body was so sore. Then he remembered the likely reason: he had played almost forty minutes in yesterday’s game and had scored nearly half of his team’s points. Of course he would be sore.
Thinking that he should get up and have a protein shake or two to promote the healing of his muscles, Luguentz opened his eyes. What he saw was very unexpected.
He was in a bedroom that was lit only by the golden-orange glow of afternoon sunlight pouring in through the open window. Walking to that window, he looked out on a grassy valley which soon rose into a hillside dotted with fruit trees. It was certainly like nothing he had ever seen in Oklahoma, and it didn’t match what he knew of Utah, either. For some reason, he found it very difficult to remember things that had happened before he had ended up in this unknown place. They had boarded the plane back home, right? The last thing he remembered was being in the locker room after the game. Maybe they had stayed in Utah an extra day because of bad weather?
Luguentz turned to look at the rest of his surroundings. It was a comfortable little room, but it didn’t have any electric furnishings. It seemed more like a rustic retreat than a place where an NBA team would have its players stay. The only furniture other than the bed was a wardrobe. Luguentz opened it and saw a tunic hanging on a hook; upon seeing this, he realized that he was naked, so he put on the garment. He didn’t want to walk around the place naked while he tried to figure out what was going on.
The hallway outside his room was still and quiet. Luguentz wanted to call out for teammates, but felt sheepish about being loud in a place where all was silent, so he just walked around, trying to get his bearings. The floor tiles felt smooth on his bare feet as he searched for somebody who could explain where they were. The whole place had the feeling of being untouched for centuries, with medieval frescoes on the walls and the total absence of modern conveniences, even electric lighting. More than anything, he felt like he was walking around a large Mediterranean manor, not that he knew much about the countries around the Mediterranean.
Luguentz would have liked to use his phone to try to contact his teammates, but it was missing, along with the rest of his possessions. For some reason, the feeling of having been ripped out of his normal life and dropped here was not as terrifying as it should have been. He felt like an anchorless boat drifting in calm seas. It felt freeing – like the pressures of his real life no longer held sway over this thoughts.
After some time exploring, Luguentz hadn’t come any closer to discovering the nature of the place. Every room he had looked into had been empty. So when he came to a gathering area bounded on three sides by windows, he decided to sit and rest. From this side of the residence, he could see the sea far off in the distance, but no houses, towns, or other people. The small sofa he sat on was extraordinarily comfortable, and he found it too easy to slip into his own thoughts, feeling utterly relaxed and at peace.
Belatedly, he noticed that there was a man sitting in the sofa across from him. How long had the man been there? Luguentz didn’t know. He had withdrawn so far into the comfort of his inner peace that his mind had stopped processing external stimuli. “Um, hello?” Luguentz ventured.
“Hello, friend, and welcome,” said the man, who was wearing a tunic identical to the one Luguentz wore.
“Where are we?” Luguentz asked.
“This is the Countryside Villa of the Forty Point Scorers,” the man answered. “And my name is Linas Kleiza, the Appointed Guardian of the Villa.”
Luguentz pondered this answer for a moment. It was seeming more and more likely that this was all a dream, and his own psyche had invented this place as a sort of inner respite for a mind that was perpetually tormented by the anxieties of the waking world. “When do I wake up?”
Linas laughed. “Wake up from what? The Villa is a real place. Just because it’s not in the real world doesn’t mean it’s not a real place.”
“Oh.” Luguentz didn’t have spare mental energy to expend on trying to sort out the real meaning of Linas’ words, but it had awoken within him some half-formed memories of an infinite hall with a marble floor and a man with a Hispanic-sounding name. Diego, or something. “Well, it’s nice. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You invited yourself, Luguentz,” Linas said. “I’m just here to welcome you. And now that I’ve done my job, I’ll leave you to your relaxation.”
Linas left then, and Luguentz stayed sitting on the sofa. Later, he would explore some more, and perhaps sample the olives from the trees he saw growing in the courtyards. For now, though, he was happy to follow Linas’ command and allow his mind to sink deep into peacefulness. Happier, indeed, than he could ever remember being.