TWO HUNDRED: You've Got Time
200
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“Disappointed?”
Alden let the last swig of cold water from the bottle sit in his mouth for a second longer before swallowing and answering the instructor. “A little.”
His feet were surrounded by tennis balls. He kicked one lightly with the toe of his sneaker and watched it roll across the sod tiles Instructor Waker had put down for him. With no other students to pay attention to, Big Snake was being more creative. His throws were coming from every direction. Sometimes he was somersaulting over Alden’s head and dropping the tennis balls from above, or he was bouncing them off the walls of their private block.
It was a good workout. The catching and the returns were at a difficulty level that matched the one Alden had found success with before. But he couldn’t seem to fall into the right frame of mind, and when he closed his eyes and tried to force it, he just got pelted. He was sure he’d have earned a concussion from at least one of those throws if he wasn’t in the gym.
“I’m sorry it’s not happening,” he said. “You even got me ground to jump around on.”
Instructor Waker tossed a ball to him, and Alden caught it with his free hand. Preserving it was simple, of course, but he wasn’t getting that feeling that had led his body to move in pursuit of balls he could barely reach. He wanted to find that flow state where it became him, his entruster, and the thing he’d been given to protect.
“You have any ideas why it’s not workin’ the way you want it to right now?”