The Seeker

A Meta-Cognitive Journal About Writing… Plus Other Stuff

The Boomerang pt.2

with one comment

continued from yesterday…

We retrieved the boomerang and I gave it a try.  I mimicked Joel’s form, including the low-slung arm, and watched the boomerang skim through the air and quickly drop to the ground.  Maybe I had held it upside down.  I looked to Joel. “That sucked.”

Undeterred, he said we’d keep practicing.  I tried again with the same results.  He tried again, and it looked like I had thrown it.  That went on for six or seven more turns.  The thing refused to fly in any manner we expected from a boomerang.  It looked so easy on film, so why couldn’t we do it?

We tried throwing it over-armed like we would a baseball but only drove it into the ground.  Joel thought to twist his wrist counter-clockwise on release and got the boomerang to fly a little further, but that was it.  I tried the same and got nothing different except a cracking sensation in my wrist.  We tried throwing with a sweeping motion across our bodies, like a frisbee, but any force we mustered wasn’t enough to make it fly more than thirty feet.

After an hour of trying and failing to duplicate Joel’s initial success, we were no closer to achieving boomerang prowess than we had been to effectively throwing tomato stake javelins two years prior.  Our spirits were deflated, and the tendons connecting my forearm to my bicep burned.  It felt like my right arm was hanging two inches lower than my left, and my wrist still smarted,

“One more heave,” Joel decided.  He measured the wind, but this time stood facing it.  He intentionally flung the boomerang high, trying to affect its trajectory and return, ever hopeful that he could still find dominion over the cheap piece of wood.  It sailed high, but when it reached its peak, a gust of wind grabbed it and pulled it far over our property line into the tall, thick weeds on the land owned by our hippy neighbors.

We looked at each other and shrugged.  We walked to the edge of the property, and then tromped into the neighbor’s jungle to where we thought we’d find the boomerang.  It wasn’t there.  We expanded our search radius, but no dice.

“I’m gonna be pissed if we lose that damn thing,” Joel said.  He pointed to where he wanted me to look, and continued to guide our search for twenty minutes until our shoelaces and pants legs were full of burrs and our hands and arms were scratched from pulling apart thickets and brambles.

We never found the boomerang.  We returned to my parents’ house dejected.  There was a void in our thinking that we could sense but not quantify.  We couldn’t grasp the immutability of the physical universe, and couldn’t verbalize our lack of understanding.  There was no explaining why we couldn’t accomplish something that looked so easy or how the boomerang completely disappeared.  The idea that something could be so absolute didn’t fit into teenage heads stuffed with gray matter and gray areas we were fated to perpetually negotiate.  When I told my brother about our misadventure the next day, he laid out the concrete truth that we could grasp:  A boomerang that doesn’t come back when you throw it isn’t a boomerang—it’s a stick.


Written by seeker70

August 12, 2015 at 4:15 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

One Response

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  1. Lol. I’m hearing Mike’s voice as the brother. Am I right?


    August 12, 2015 at 4:21 pm

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