---

"Jack, you have a visitor." The voice on the intercom was a welcome distraction from all the chaotic hopelessness.

"How is that possible?" I asked. "I thought the building was locked down."

"It is," the person replied, "but he came in right before the lockdown. We were just too busy to take care of him until now."

"OK, who is it?" I asked.

"It's a Dr. Kentucky Jones. He says it's urgent."

"Escort him in, please."

Kentucky Jones, who always went by "Tuck," was a very good friend. We went way back, and he's the kind of guy I could almost have seen myself marrying - you know, if he weren't a dude.

I'm not sure of his exact job title, but he was something like a cross between an archaeologist, a paleontologist, a linguist, a New Age thinker, and a cowboy.

"Hey, Jack." I turned and saw him standing there, wearing his trademark fedora, as always. Tuck had never visited me at work before, and I wasn't sure his timing was right now.

I said, "It's always good to see you, Tuck. But if you haven't heard, we have a crisis on our hands."

"I have heard," he responded. "And that's why I'm here. I think maybe I can help."

"Well then, I'm all ears," I said.

"Good," he replied. "Then I need you to finally listen to what I have to say about the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar, and what's special about December 21, 2012."

"You're talking about that ancient Mayan stuff? Give me a break!" At first I couldn't believe I was hearing this, but then I remembered this was Tuck. He had been known to go out on a limb from time to time. As he liked to say, "That's where the fruit is!"

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