"Hey, did you bring your disc?" Sean asks.
Of course I did. He knows this, and that is why he inquires. I never pass up the opportunity to toss, not even in a parking lot at 3 a.m.
I've only had a few to drink tonight, which is a good thing, because I have a hard enough time keeping my life in order and my disc flying straight on nights that I haven't had any.
There's a spring in my step, and I notice one in his, too. We're on a mission. We have no time to be still and reflect upon the burgers and fries we just ate; the moment is upon us to once again liberate ourselves from such pedestrian evening fare. It is becoming a habit, and I think I like it.
There are state troopers to the left of us. There are state troopers to the right of us.
Forward or backward with either hand, even over the head and upside down; you name a throw and one of us will try it. Mainly, I am trying not to hit anyone's vehicle. The rest is academic. It is still early.
I wonder if the troopers know how to throw a disc. Many times Sean saves my throws from going over the fence and into someone's back yard.
The glare of the police is making me nervous; they probably think that we're drunk.
It doesn't matter. Let them arrest me for tossing a frisbee on a street with no name. I bet I could write something interesting about that one.
One of them pulls up alongside where I am standing and rolls down his window.
"Son, you're going to have to move over into the parking lot," he says. "You can't be playing here in the middle of the road."
"Hey officer, would you like to play some ultimate frisbee?" asks Sean. "It's kind of hard to have a game with just two people." He must have been reading my mind.
"I can see how that would be tough," the trooper replies. He doesn't smile. This is the highlight of my morning, a very lonely morning in the parking lot at Denny's.
I wonder if there is anything in this officer's vernacular besides useless questions and rehearsed comments. I wonder what his family thinks about his having to ride around restoring law and order to a sleeping town. Do policemen have families? I'll see mine in a few hours. My brother is a cop. We move.
The wind picks up a bit. I won't stop focusing until I can nail a hammer throw around the lamp post and over the patch of greenery, then watch it fall safely into Sean's hands.
I have failed many times. The throw means nothing and everything to me, both at the same time.
It is just another chapter in the never-ending battle between humans and our creator. While nature never makes mistakes, we usually seem more than up to the task. Precedence means nothing to me at this point. I've never been more ready to force mother nature into submission.
I cock my wrist back, forgetting about the wind. I step forward and let it go. I let it all go.
This one's not just for myself, but for everyone on the face of the Earth who has ever been awake at four o'clock in the morning.
The disc swings around the pole like a blade, slicing the still atmosphere in two.
Hello lamppost, whatcha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing.
It clears the grass by what seems like a mile. It falls easily, upside-down, tailing off to the right. One easy catch, and the game is over,well, for now. It hits Sean's hand, then hits the ground.
"I almost had it, man," he says. "I must have lost it in the lights or something."
"It's ok," I tell him, with a hint of frustration in my voice. He understands. Sincerity is a much heavier sentiment than most.
I shouldn't be too worried at this particular instant. There should be other things on my mind. I'll see my parents in less than a day. I've got two midterms next week, and I need to hit the books.
I also need a date for my formal. There will be other shots at glory, there always are. The troopers begin to drive off as we walk back to the car. Their work here is obviously done.
What once was a midnight sky is now colored with traces of a new day. Gravity has won today's battle, but I know that I'll be back sooner or later to fight it again, on my terms.
There are some days when we all almost have it. I pick my disc up off of the asphalt and dust it off. I notice that it is slightly cracked.
A couple of cars pull into the parking lot just as we pull away. Morning and night only appear different when you look at them from separate angles.
As we drive home, I wonder just when the disc became cracked, and why. I wonder if that state trooper would have tossed with us had we asked more politely. I refuse to ponder anything meaningful. I am finished with that for a while.
I can almost see my breath inside the car.
Somewhere, off in the distance, a disc glides effortlessly through the warm afternoon air.
I wish I could be there to reel it in, to make it mine and to make everything right. Unfortunately, I can't. I am slowly discovering my limits, and they are too numerous for my liking.
I'll have my chance at redemption soon. Right now I need to get some rest. This realm is familiar, and I take comfort in the fact that I am no longer alone.
