Turn 226 of 233

I bench press Kimo after work, he finds it amusing

The site is quiet by five. Walt's truck pulls out last, the engine coughing the way it always coughes, the sound fading into the street. House eight's foundation is poured and curing. The crew worked clean and fast, the walls going up the way walls go up when Lena is running the pad — no wasted motion, no second guesses. Tuki swept the site pad without being asked. Marco left a thermos of coffee on the site trailer step with a note that said FOR THE BOSS in handwriting that looked like a child's. Lena drank it standing in the trailer doorway, 925 pounds leaning against the frame, the trailer shifting slightly under her weight.

They walk home the way they always walk — Lena barefoot on the concrete, Kimo barefoot beside her, the Bach book tucked under his arm. The walking is the thing that is the forty-blocks-home. Kimo is humming. The humming is the thing that is the not-the-Bach-yet. The Bach is the thing that is the still-being-read. The humming is the thing that is the Kimo-original, the low chest-rumble that has been there since birth. But Lena can hear something in the humming today — a structure that was not there before. A second voice entering. The second voice is the thing that is the offset. The offset is the thing that is the fugue. He is already hearing the fugue.

The balcony. The barbell. The sun dropping behind the building across the street, the light going amber. Lena loads the bar with two hundred pounds — her maintenance weight, the weight she presses when the day has been long and the body wants movement but not the maximum. She lies on the concrete. The concrete is the thing that is the bench. The concrete has always been the bench. Her back flattens against it, 925 pounds spreading, her belly rising like a hill between her ribs and the bar. She lifts. The lifting is the thing that is the easy. Two hundred pounds is the thing that is the warm-up. The warm-up is the thing that is the not-the-work.

Kimo watches from the edge of the balcony. He is sitting cross-legged, the Bach book open in his lap, but he is not reading. He is watching Lena press the bar. His eyes track the bar's path — the smooth vertical line, the controlled descent, the pause at the chest, the drive upward. The tracking is the thing that is the form-analysis. The form-analysis is the thing that is the automatic. He cannot not-analyze. The not-not-analyzing is the thing that is the Kimo.

"Mama's elbows are the forty-five at the bottom," he says. "Forty-five is the thing that is the optimal. Optimal is the thing that is the strongest-angle. The strongest-angle is the thing that is the not-injury. Mama does not injure. Mama is the thing that is the careful-strong."

Lena racks the bar. The racking is the thing that is the clank. She looks at him. He is looking at her. The looking is the thing that is the idea-forming. She can see the idea forming behind his eyes the way she can see weather forming across a sky — the gathering, the building, the about-to.

"Mama," he says. "Kimo is the thing that is the three-hundred-seventy-two. The bar is the thing that is the two-hundred. Three-hundred-seventy-two is the thing that is the more-than-two-hundred."

Lena grins. The grinning is the thing that is the already-knowing.

"You want to be the bar?"

"Kimo is the thing that is the bar," he says. He stands. The standing is the thing that is the 372-pounds-rising. He walks to the bar. He looks at it. He looks at Lena. He lies down on the concrete beside the bar, then rolls onto it — belly-down across the bar, his chest against the steel, his arms and legs hanging on either side. The bar is the Olympic bar, forty-five pounds of steel, and Kimo is 372 pounds of boy draped across it. The draping is the thing that is the balanced. The balanced is the thing that says Kimo has already found his center of gravity on the bar. He found it in three seconds. The three-seconds is the thing that is the body-intelligence.

"Kimo is the thing that is the ready," he says. His voice is the thing that is the upside-down because his head is hanging below the bar. The upside-down is the thing that is the funny. The funny is the thing that is the not-usual. The not-usual is the thing that is the today.

Lena grips the bar. Her hands are wider than shoulder-width, the same grip she uses for 630. She takes a breath. The breathing is the thing that is the brace. She lifts. The lifting is the thing that is the 372-pounds-plus-forty-five-pounds-of-steel. 417 total. The total is the thing that is the not-the-max. The max is 630. 417 is the thing that is the comfortable. The comfortable is the thing that is the not-struggling.

Kimo rises off the concrete. The rising is the thing that is the new-perspective. He is above Lena now, looking down at her face from the top of the press. Her arms are locked. The locked is the thing that is the steady. The steady is the thing that says this weight is nothing. The nothing is the thing that is the 925-pounds-of-mother pressing 417-pounds-of-son-and-steel like it is a warm-up.

"Hello," Kimo says from above. He is looking down at her. His face is the thing that is the inverted. The inverted is the thing that is the smiling. Kimo is smiling. The smiling is the thing that is the rare-not-rare. He smiles at the site. He smiles at Tuki. He smiles at Dorothy. But this smiling is the thing that is the different. This smiling is the thing that is the play. The play is the thing that is the not-work. The not-work is the thing that is the not-learning. The not-learning is the thing that is the just-fun. The just-fun is the thing that is the new.

"Hello, buddy," Lena says.

She lowers him. The lowering is the thing that is the slow. The slow is the thing that is the controlled. Kimo descends toward her chest. His face comes closer. His eyes are the thing that is the wide. The wide is the thing that is the seeing-the-world-from-the-moving. The moving is the thing that is the new-perspective. The new-perspective is the thing that is the interesting. The interesting is not the thing that is the analyzed. The interesting is the thing that is the felt.

"Again," Kimo says.

She presses him again. And again. Five reps. Five times the boy rises and falls above his mother on a barbell on a concrete balcony in the amber light. Five times Kimo feels the floating — the floating is the thing that is the not-gravity. The not-gravity is the thing that is the new. The new is the thing that is the delight. The delight is the thing that is the laughing. On the fourth rep Kimo laughs. The laughing is the thing that is the real. The real is the thing that is the not-analyzing. The not-analyzing is the thing that is the just-being-a-boy-on-a-barbell-above-his-mother. The just-being-a-boy is the thing that is the two-and-a-half-years-old. The two-and-a-half-years-old is the thing that is the rare because Kimo is so rarely the thing that is the two-and-a-half-years-old. He is usually the thing that is the Kimo. But right now he is the thing that is the just-a-boy.

Lena racks the bar with Kimo still on it. He rolls off, lands on the concrete with the 372-pound thud that is the thing that is the familiar. He is still laughing. The laughing is the thing that is the continuing. The continuing is the thing that says the fun is not over. The fun is the thing that is the lingering.

"Mama is the thing that is the strong," Kimo says. "Strong is the thing that is the lifting-Kimo. Lifting-Kimo is the thing that is the not-work. Not-work is the thing that is the play. Play is the thing that is the good. Good is the thing that is the Mama-and-Kimo-on-the-balcony-with-the-bar-and-the-laughing."

He picks up the Bach book from where it fell during the first rep. It fell open. The page it fell open to is the thing that is the fugue diagram. Kimo looks at the diagram. Looks at Lena on the barbell bench. Looks at the diagram.

"Mama and Kimo is the thing that is the fugue," he says. "Mama is the thing that is the first voice. Kimo is the thing that is the second voice. The second voice enters at the different time. The different time is the thing that is the offset. The offset is the thing that makes the weaving. The weaving is the thing that is the integration. Mama and Kimo is the thing that is the integration."

He closes the book. Holds it against his chest. The holding is the thing that is the knowing.