The evening came mighty quick that day, I reckon the sun had places to go and retired earlier than usual. This meant that practice was on the horizon.

Barton Hall must have been an airplane hanger or military shed at one point in time. It had the same ariless smell any time I walked in. ‘CORNELL UNIVERSITY’ was printed on the dusty glass far on the other side of the track across from the entrance. The smell was that of hard work and broken souls except not like those broken-souled creatures passing for men and women outside of this hall. Here these were volunteered by its owner to be tried, broken only temporarily to come back the next day unbroken and continue this cycle until the feat in question was conquered and another lay before him or her.

Over by the training room sitting on the window-sill waiting for practice to begin was a human specimen not to be tampered with. By sight alone this man instilled courage within you where there was none before. A descendant of Phoebus no doubt. Aldon Seed had gold for hair, bronze for a heart, windpipes for lungs and gems for a set of eyes. Although madness, there was method in what was once said about the brilliance of the blue-eyed blond haired race of men and I beheld it. It was proof of a man worth living by, if not for. You could not tell that he walked with a purpose the way his gait made his arms swing carelessly. By the time you knew he was moving it was too late and he was already in front of you smiling about nothing except being alive.

“Hails, my only question is do all black people on campus know each other?” The gaiety in his voice told you how sincere and innocent his inquiry was. He was genuinely curious about a social stratification he observed. “We sure as hell do, we’re more or less a tight knit bunch.” We both laughed at each other and started stretching on the floor in the middle of the track with the rest of the team. This man did not know me but he liked me and he told me so. He liked that I tried and wanted more than anything to beat him any time we ran. He was not mocking my ability. He was testing my humanity, my strength, and I would thank him the only way I knew how. I accepted his challenge to be the best, better than he.

“This is the last one, keep up ey.” It was the last set of our arduous workout and Coach Kev had the timer in hand. Coach Taylor looked on from the middle of the track along with everyone else practicing field events. It was my turn to lead the pack and Seabreeze was the caboose. “Go!” yelled Coach Kev, but it was not an actual yell, he never strained to yell at all but we were off, stallions out of the gate. It was quite like a derby and sooner rather than later I could hear Seabreeze’s gallops. I memorized the pattern of his stride. I had to push the pace a little. I refused to be caught so quick. From the corner of my eye I could see the onlookers following us around this circle of death. I heard one kid say “look at them, there goes Halley’s comet again pushing the pace that boys a colt.” Yes I thought, that’s what I felt like my whole life, like the black stallion and Halley’s striking comet all in one. I tried focusing on lifting my knees but it was no use. They could not lift anymore, the air was too heavy and my body was tightening. Only my spirit kept me astride now. I could not breathe, all the oxygen was swept out of the room. I tried to keep my arms from flailing like a drownee. Seabreeze overtook me with ease with just 50 meters remaining. Fatigue had no bearing on this man whatsoever. Coach Kev yelled at me to keep up with him knowing it was hopeless. This was my last chance, I shifted into the last gear and tried for a final surge. Seabreeze admired the attempt and kicked it into his second. The race was over and yet there was never a race to begin with.

He looked over me as I lay undauntedly defeated, hands over his head and breathing normally. He still had the muscles to smile, “good run ey? Coming to the weight-room?” Coach Kev came over, “that was a good run man, keep that up and you’ll make the HEPs team one day.” Coach Kevin Thompson was a fine man who knew too well too many secrets about life, that is where the grey in his beard came from. “You have to stay loose and relaxed. Your muscles are going to want to tense up but keep ‘em relaxed, you control your body.” I nodded because I could not find any wat to utter a response. For a while I sat there feeling mighty good about pushing my body to that limit. And to think our practice was not even done.

The door to the weight-room was left ajar so that breathable air could sweep in. I could here the music blaring even before I walked in. I do not know what it was but music made for some kind of motivation which in this iron jungle was what we needed most. In here you knew people remembered what they were capable of doing. I walked over to where my group was exercising. Ron Gaddington, Nnam, Kipper and Josh Grey were huddled around the other star of the team, Sabine McLeod. She was so pleasant to look at, another specimen for sure. I admired her a great deal and was attracted to her that much more, I think we all were. The thing was that only so many stood a chance. She was physically and intellectually capable of outdoing any man which made her unapproachable. This was ironic because she was an affable soul. She would hardly frown, like almost never and even when insulted. I think she knew that the simple fact was she was just a fantastic person. What harm could anyone do to her when she knew her worth? You would wonder how she could do everything she did, on the track and in the classroom, and never once put on a disconcerting face. It was enviable. I tried hard not to look at her for too long in the weight-room. She was doing a clean-press now with great ease.

“Sabine, if this is too easy we can put more weight on, you need to take it up a notch if you’re going to win Nationals.” Ron wanted the best for Sabine more than anyone. He was a canny fellow and quite astute for his age. Youth was not wasted on him at all. I was convinced that he was a genius. He was an engineer but you could not tell that from his stature. He was a built man with an exceptional muscle tone and very much in shape which I suppose was no surprise since we were on the track team together. His character was even more pronounced than his genius. He had no social contract with people. He did not give to anyone what they did not deserve and spoke bluntly, a trait even the goons were not so fond of.

My admiration of Sabine was curtailed.

“Hails, let’s talk for a second on the track.” This in fact was not an interruption because that would imply Seabreeze was being some kind of hinderance. This would never be the case. In any event I was rather curious as to what he wanted to have a word about.

“I heard the things you said today.” We were walking towards the middle of the track and for some reason my heart was racing. I was nervous that he would disapprove and I did not know how I would handle it if this was the case. He kept looking at me reluctant to continue but he would. “Don’t think there aren’t those in this world who think and believe like you do in the power of men and the human spirit. Understand that above even their minds and human spirit men have the choice to be great or not. This is a truth that might destroy you or it just might make you better. What fun would life be if we didn’t have that choice?” I did not see fit to respond. He was saying, well what I heard, was that we can choose either life or death and that to choose death was okay. I was annoyed. I just did not know if I was annoyed by him making those remarks or that I saw he had a point. He seemed familiar with this conversation as if someone had once had it with him. He looked at Coach Kev who was watching us on the wooden bleachers above the wieght-room. He nodded to Seabreeze as if to say “a job well done, you too are learning.”

vv. Francs IV