Eligible for Exhaustion

   It was nearing 2:30 a.m. as Jacob exited the highway and let his GPS guide him to the town of Limewurst's indoor swimming pool. The parking lot was nearly full with the exception of the two spots. Jacob made two laps around the lot before seeing them. Realizing the spot he had chosen was reserved for handicap drivers, he resigned himself to parking at the back of the lot. He grabbed his notebook from the passenger seat, locked the car, and was surprised to see a couple jogging past with headlamps on. They waved cheerily and continued on down the street. Jacob shook his head. That was weird, he thought, maybe this won't be just a standard sports piece after all.

   Earlier that week Jacob's editor for the local tri-county paper informed him that he'd be heading to Limewurst for a piece on the High School swimming relay tournament that would be taking place. Pretty standard affair for the paper: He'd need to talk to the coaches, a handful of parents, jot down the stats for each event, interview any MVP's and head home again. Nothing to it, that is until the editor told him the tournament would be starting at 3:00 a.m. Jacob blinked, "You mean three in the afternoon?"

   "No, I mean three in the morning when a.m. usually occurs. You better get some rest beforehand, it'll be a long night.", she made a motion for him to vacate her office.

   Inside the aquatic center the stands were full. A mix of families, friends, and a few teachers, all there to cheer on the swimmers. There was something else that knitted together almost every spectator in the crowd: a certain bedraggled, manic look. There were puffy bags under most eyes. Hair was pulled back from the temples, standing straight up or at odd angles; eliciting a sense that the entire seated crowd had been subjected to something dastardly and shocking. Jacob wrote off their odd countenances as par for the course  for a swim meet in the middle of the night. He set off for the top of the stands to sit with the scorekeeper. The man sitting behind the controls was wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a corduroy jacket. He shook Jacob's hand, "I'm Jim Darville. You'll be our reporter for the evening then? You can call me Darville."

  The first heat of the woman's back stroke was starting. The swimmers were in their lanes, the official raised his gun shouting, "On your marks! Get Set!" and with that he fired his gun into the air releasing smoke from the blank, sending each swimmer into a flurry of motion.

  "Is this some sort of gimmick then?"Jacob shouted over the roar of the crowd, "Late night races to get people excited about High School sports again?"

  Mr. Darville hit a few switches on the control board and jotted down figures as the first of the girls finished the heat. "Funny you should say that because increased attendance has actually been one positive outcome of moving the meets to this hour. But I'm pretty sure that was unintentional.", he paused to speak into the microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, heats two and three of woman's backstroke will be starting momentarily. After that we'll have men's backstroke followed by woman's freestyle just a little later. Here at the home of the Limewurst River Otters!"

   He switched the microphone off and turned his attention back to Jacob, "Right, where was I ...? Oh yeah, the late time for these meets. We're the only town in the area that hosts at this absurd time. We try to make sure we get our meets scheduled for the weekend as a courtesy to the other teams so they won't have class to wake up for the next morning."

   "Wouldn't the Limewurst students fall under that courtesy as well? You make it sound as if they're the exception here."

   Darville shrugged, "Eh, I guess you could say that. I think that more than anything else the kids are used to holding odd schedules by now. You see, the real reason we have night swim meets is due to a bit of policy that the mayor quietly slipped through city council at the beginning of the year."

  Jacob sat, notebook and pen in hand, watching the result of the current heat. He looked up, trying to process Darville's words. "Is the mayor here tonight by any chance?"

  "Any other week and I'd say yes. Tonight though she went out for a run with her husband. They're training for a marathon in May. She'll be in her office in the center of town after the meet, stop by." Daville pushed another series of buttons leaving a timer up on the board. "but right now its time for intermission to give the kids a break. Why don't you go talk to the coaches for a bit and bring back some popcorn, willya?"

   Jogging down the stairs Jacob thought how this town was only getting stranger. He also decided he was going to need some strong coffee to make it through the night. He wandered through a group of aimlessly milling parents, working his way to the coaches'area for a few quotes before hitting the concession stand. Maybe there'd be nachos he thought sleepily.

   "You there! with the notebook, are you from The Sincere Sentinel?"

                   Jacob nodded.

  "Well? Don't you have any questions?"

"Erm...uhhh, yes.", Jacob reached into his mind for the stock questions that were interchangeable for most High School Sports, he found only blanks. "Ummmm, which school do you coach for, sir?"

  "Mont Blanc. Here kid, you look exhausted  I bring a giant thermos of coffee whenever we're swimming at Limewurst. Buncha night owls, the lot of 'em."

   Jacob gratefully accepted the cup full of steaming coffee, took a sip, and almost immediately felt his heart beat speed up and the cogs in his head turn once again. "Thanks, I needed that. Mont Blanc? You guys have had a bit of a checkered record this season, what with winning the past two meets, but getting crushed early on in the season. Any thoughts as to the outcome of tonight and your chances of making it to regionals?"

"There is something rattling around in that head of yours after all!" The barrel chested coach laughed as though that had been the pinnacle of humor. "Sorry, even with the caffeine I have a hard time holding it together at this hour. As for tonight, well we've done reasonably well so far, but I'm not confident overall about tonight. I really don't believe my kids can perform at 100% at these ridiculous hours. And regionals? I'm hopeful, but who's to say? We're doing better than last year and that's something."

   They shook hands and Jacob continued to question a few more coaches before heading on to the snack bar. The coarches all seemed to chime in on the same sentiment - it was an uphill battle to win against Limewurst when they were on their home turf with strange hours. With the exception of the Limewurst coach who seemed upbeat and to be enjoying himself, though sweating profusely. When Jacob asked if the sweating was from nerves the coach smiled and said, "Nope, just doing some wind sprints outside while I was waiting for things to start up again."

  Fifteen minutes of waiting in line behind a crowd of gleefully wide-eyed Limewurstians (Limewurstonites? Limewursters?) left Jacob wondering if just maybe the whole town was really just populated by aliens. Strangely peppy, nocturnal aliens. Eventually He made it back to Darville and thrusted him a large bag full of freshly popped kettle corn. "That's all they had, hope its okay."

   "Perfect!" The grey haired man exclaimed, popping a handful of kernels into his mouth. "The kettle corn is one fo the main reasons I signed on to do the scoreboard and commentate. Help yourself, the salty, crunchy, sugary combo really sparkles in your mouth. Especially in the middle of the night."

   "How long do these night meets usually go? And thanks."Reaching for some of the popcorn.

"We'll get out around sun-rise. Settle in, we've got a couple hours to go."

    "Whoa! That is good popcorn! You wouldn't expect it to go so well with coffee either!" Jacob exclaimed, finding himself speaking with more exclamations as the night went on.

                                                            ***

  Four coffees, two large bags of kettle- corn and countless laps swum later the meet was over. Jacob stumbled bleary-eyes into the early sunlight. He was hiccuping and laughing from lack of sleep. Driving seemed like a worrying proposition at this point. He decided why not walk to the mayor's office? Then maybe he'd feel awake enough to drive back home. In the distance he spotted a looming building with alabaster pillars and cresting eaves. It looked a bit sinister, but that could have just been the sugar and caffeine speaking. Jacob got closer only to see a small sign announcing that the sinister building was the county courthouse.

  Next door there was a small brick building that looked like it could have passed for an Orthodontist's office. That turned out to be the mayor's office. The sign on the door said "Come on in."

   Surprisingly enough, or at this point maybe not: the office was laid out just like an Orthodontist's office. There was a small waiting room with a few couches, stacks of magazines like Highlights, People, as well as other. The walls were painted an off white, with a wall paper border of pink elephants, there was a window for a receptionist, but no one was sitting behind it. The real difference  was the absence of bright lights in the waiting room. The sconces were tastefully dimmed to allow visitors to feel at home.

  Jacob poke his head into the hallway to see a light on in the room at the end of the hall. He called out, "Hello? I'm from The Sincere Sentinel. I just wanted to ask a few questions about the town's night swimming meets."

   "As the sign on the building said, come on in."

She sat behind a plain desk, cutting various pictures for the scrapbook that sat on the desk. She smiled as Jacob sat down across from her, "How can I help The Sincere Sentinel this morning?"

 "Well, Mrs. Mayor -"

                 "Madame Mayor, please."

Jacob tried his best not to roll his eyes, "Madame Mayor then, I wanted to talk to you about Limewurst's night swimming meets. I was lead to believe that some particular piece of legislation or town policy may have led to the swimming team's unique schedule."

  "When you put it like that it make the whole thing sound as if the High School is legally obligated to have night meets, which they aren't. I do see what you mean though. You see the whole town's sleeping schedule has been a tad messed up for a while now and that's partly my fault I suppose.", She sighed and set down the scissors in her hand, "The past few years the town has gotten particularly whiny. Perhaps that's not the right word, you could really say they've taken to the sport of bragging. Only about one particular topic for the most part: comparing how tired they were. I've been an insomniac most of my adult life, so lately I've had the urge to slap them all across the face and shout 'You think you're tired?! I haven't slept in 25 years!'"

   "You didn't though?", Jacob asked, drawn into the story.

"No, of course not, I wouldn't be sitting here today if I had. But I did find a way to change things. I passed city ordinance 334.  Our drinking water now has an extra chemical that works as a sleep inhibitor. Effectively turning the entire town into insomniacs as well. We have a lottery once a week, those who have made the most of their time awake are awarded sleeping pills."

  "This can't possibly be legal.", Jacob protested.

"Oh, but it is! We held a town wide meeting, explained quite clearly what was going to happen if the bill passed. It passed nearly unanimously. Now we can see who is truly eligible for exhaustion. Democracy at its finest, wouldn't you agree?"

   Jacob nodded hi head numbly, trying to process the mayor's words. It seemed nefarious, but she had set the whole thing out remarkably logically.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some pressing matters to attend to.", She picked up a glue-stick, "Go River Otters!"