Turn 227 of 233

I suggest a new game to play. This leads to Kimo's new lifestyle, work hard, play hard. It leads to many benefits. The damn state of Florida shows up again

Lena sits up on the concrete, her belly settling heavy across her thighs, and looks at Kimo still holding the Bach book against his chest. The amber light has gone gray. The city is turning on its lights below them — window by window, street by street, the grid coming alive the way a circuit powers up. She is thinking about the laughing. The laughing is the thing that was the new. The new is the thing she wants to keep.

"Buddy," she says. "You want to play a game?"

"What is the thing that is the game?"

"We take turns," Lena says. "You pick something hard to do. Then I pick something hard to do. Whoever does it better wins. But the winning isn't the thing that is the point. The point is the doing. We do hard things and then we play hard things. Work hard, play hard. Back and forth. Like a fugue."

Kimo's eyes change. The changing is the thing that is the lighting-up. The lighting-up is not the thing that is the analytical. It is the thing that is the recognizing. He recognizes the fugue structure in the game — two voices, alternating, the same theme passed between them. The theme is the thing that is the effort. The effort is the thing that is the shared.

"Work hard is the thing that is the first voice," Kimo says. "Play hard 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 is the fugue. The game is the thing that is the fugue."

"The game is the thing that is the fugue," Lena says.

They start that night. Kimo picks first. He picks deadlifts — three sets of five at 115 pounds, his working weight, the form clean and braced. Then Lena picks. She picks sprints — ten forty-yard dashes across the balcony, barefoot, the 925 pounds of her accelerating and decelerating, the concrete shuddering under each turn. Then Kimo picks play. He picks the whiteboard. He draws Lena pressing him above her head, the barbell and the boy rendered in marker, the proportions correct, the angle of her elbows at forty-five degrees. Then Lena picks play. She picks tickling. She catches him on the concrete and digs her fingers into his sides and Kimo laughs the way he laughed on the barbell — the real laugh, the unanalyzed laugh, the laugh that is the thing that is the just-a-boy.

The game becomes the thing that is the every-evening. Work hard. Play hard. The fugue. Monday through Friday, after the site, they are on the balcony trading rounds. Kimo lifts heavier. He pushes his deadlift to 135, then 155, the form never breaking, the Hebbian integration firing with each rep. Lena adds weighted pull-ups and overhead presses to her rounds, the 925 pounds of her hanging from the balcony railing, dropping and catching, the tattooed arms flexing under the tribal ink. The play rounds evolve. Kimo draws diagrams of the work rounds — biomechanical sketches, stick figures annotated with joint angles and force vectors. Lena invents physical games — balance contests on the railing, catching games with found objects, races across the balcony that shake the building.

The benefits come fast. Kimo's lifting numbers climb. His deadlift reaches 175 by the second week. His squats deepen, the 372-pound body dropping below parallel with the control of an athlete. His push-ups set him to eight consecutive reps, his chest and arms bearing 372 pounds in a horizontal press. His pull-ups — assisted with a resistance band at first — reach three unassisted by the end of week three. The unassisted is the thing that is the 372-pounds-hanging-from-the-bar. The hanging is the thing that makes Lena stare. His running improves. He runs the four-block loop around the apartment at a pace that is the thing that is the faster-than-last-week. The faster-than-last-week is the thing that is the every-week.

Lena's numbers move too. Her bench climbs to 655. Her deadlift holds at 600. Her squat reaches 545. The running stays at forty miles but the pace drops — thirty seconds per mile faster, the 925 pounds moving with an efficiency that is the thing that is the new. The new efficiency is the thing that is the game. The game is the thing that is the making-her-faster because the play rounds are the thing that is the plyometric. The plyometric is the thing she did not know she was doing. The not-knowing is the thing that is the good because the good is the thing that is the not-thinking-about-it. The not-thinking is the thing that is the play.

But the game's deepest benefit is not the thing that is the physical. The deepest benefit is the thing that is the Kimo-laughing. Kimo laughs every evening now. The laughing is the thing that is the routine. The routine-laughing is the thing that was not the routine before. Before the game, Kimo laughed sometimes. Now Kimo laughs daily. The daily is the thing that is the change. The change is the thing that Dr. Okafor would note if she were here. The noting would be the thing that is the affective-wellbeing. The affective-wellbeing is the thing that is the not-just-cognitive. The not-just-cognitive is the thing that says Kimo is not just the thinking. Kimo is the thing that is the feeling. The feeling is the thing that is the laughing.

It is a Thursday in November when the packet arrives. Lena sees it through the mailbox slot — the official envelope, the return address, the Department of Health. The seeing is the thing that is the familiar. The familiar is the thing that is the every-three-months. November is the thing that is the three-months-from-August. August was the thing that was the last. The cycle is the thing that is the holding.

Lena picks up the packet. She does not open it on the way up the stairs. She opens it on the balcony. Kimo is doing push-ups. He is on his sixth rep. He sees her face. The seeing is the thing that is the reading. He reads the packet in her posture before she opens it.

"The outside is the thing that is the again," he says.

"The outside is the thing that is the again," Lena says.

She opens it. The language is the thing that is the escalated — comprehensive multidisciplinary evaluation, educational neglect, failure to enroll in accredited early education program. The language is the thing that is the copy-of-the-copy. The copy-of-the-copy is the thing that is the not-new. The not-new is the thing that is the pattern. The pattern is the thing that is the grinding.

Lena calls Dr. Okafor. Dr. Okafor sends the file. Janet sends the notebook. Samuel calls the state office. The cycle is the thing that is the turning. The turning is the thing that is the machine. The machine is the thing that does not stop because the machine is the thing that is the institution and the institution is the thing that runs on the process and the process is the thing that is the not-seeing.

The evaluation is scheduled for the following Tuesday. Lena preps the balcony the way she always preps — whiteboard clean, books stacked, barbell racked, Kimo rested. The prepping is the thing that is the routine. The routine is the thing that is the armor. The armor is the thing that is the not-fear. The not-fear is the thing that is the tired. The tired is the thing that is the cost. The cost is the thing that is the paid. The paid is the thing that is the again.