The Measure(22)

People began whispering about those with “dangerously short strings”—a particularly ill-fated community with members in every city and every country who found themselves staring into a future whose brevity ensured little to no consequences for their actions and whose rapidly approaching end served as a blunt and brutal reminder that there would be no cosmic rewards for ethical behavior, no late-in-life blessings, no tangible motive to do good.

This caricature of the extremist short-stringer with regard for neither public law nor moral order seeped into classrooms and boardrooms, into hospitals and households. And it eventually trickled into the offices of high-ranking politicians in countries across the globe.

In America, where the populace had proven time and again to be particularly susceptible to paranoia, suspicions took root deeply and quickly. It was estimated that the number of short-stringers—those whose strings ended before age fifty—hovered between five and fifteen percent of the country’s total population. A small number, yes. But not small enough to be ignored.

A few short-term measures had been enacted, a bandage on a gaping wound. Several states formed dedicated hotlines, under the slogan “Don’t Look Alone,” encouraging residents to speak with a trained professional while opening up their boxes. Congress debated special aid to short-stringers—eviction bans? onetime payments?—but ultimately fell to gridlock, as the particulars proved unmanageable. (Just how short must a string be to qualify? And was there a risk in offering a financial incentive to look, pressuring those who had chosen otherwise?)

But nothing could stop the swelling rumors, fed by every act of violence, until the mayors, governors, and senators began to quietly discuss a different matter, distinct from earlier efforts to help. Though it wouldn’t be until the events of June 10 that the president would decide the “short-stringer issue” had reached a boiling point and significant action needed to be taken.





Anthony




When the strings appeared in March, most Americans briefly forgot about the next year’s presidential election, the campaigns for which were just getting underway. Many of the major magazines and newspapers even canceled their planned features on the candidates.

But Anthony Rollins did not forget.

A blue-blooded congressman from Virginia, with uninspiring polling figures, Anthony Rollins saw the strings as a blessing from God.

At the end of February, before the arrival of the strings and just after Anthony announced his candidacy, a former college classmate appeared on CNN to claim she had once overheard a drunken Anthony make crass, sexist comments about female partygoers at his fraternity. She also recounted that freshman girls were warned not to drink the punch at Anthony’s frat house, after several incidents in which women experienced memory loss after a party, and a male student even died from alcohol poisoning.

Anthony’s team quickly crafted a response noting that Anthony, as the son and grandson of several remarkable women, had always treated the opposite gender with the utmost respect. The statement confirmed that Anthony had attended various events hosted by his college fraternity, during which occasions alcohol had been consumed by all, but that he had no recollection of any particular “punch.”

Before any other classmates could appear on any other national news outlets, the boxes mysteriously appeared, and any interest in Anthony’s college antics dissipated overnight.

That morning, almost three months ago, Anthony and his wife, Katherine, brought their two small boxes into the living room and debated what to do. Anthony called his campaign manager, who advised him not to open his. Anthony was a public figure, after all, and if the message on the box were indeed true, then any sensitive information about Anthony’s life was at risk of being stolen and leaked to the press.

Katherine called her friends from church, who also advised her not to open the box, warning that the end times were surely near.

“Do you think that’s really what’s happening?” Katherine asked her husband, clutching her King James Bible. “It says right here in Revelation, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. Maybe these boxes are some sort of tabernacles? God dwelling among us?”

Anthony was skeptical. “Doesn’t it also talk about waves of destruction, and water turning to blood? An entirely new world emerging?”

“Well, how else can you explain it, then?”

Anthony took the Bible from his wife’s hands and placed it on the table, next to their unopened boxes.

“A few days ago, our campaign was under attack,” Anthony said. “Now people couldn’t care less about what that woman thinks she remembers from college. I believe these boxes are a sign from God that He’s looking out for this campaign, protecting us from harm.”

Katherine wasn’t fully convinced, but she took a breath and let her shoulders loosen. “I hope you’re right.”

Anthony smiled and kissed his wife. “Besides, even if the world were ending,” he said, “you and I are shoo-ins to be saved.”



It didn’t take long for Anthony and Katherine, along with the rest of the world, to understand the truth of their strings. When they ultimately opened their boxes to reveal strings of substantial length, promising at least eighty years for them both, they knew they had been blessed with a wondrous gift, rewarded for their faith.