Chapter 1 - Defense
Mode
They say that everyone is really
good at something. I’m not good at much,
but I can fold an awesome paper airplane.
And that’s where the trouble began.
Between classes, I had bragged to
my friend Zach that I could make the best paper airplane. Zach and I were lucky to be assigned seats next
to each other at the back of Mr. Cochran’s 8th grade math class. That’s where we were secretly making paper
airplanes. I was a little afraid that I
wouldn’t get the folds just right working on it in my lap in the shelter of the
desktop.
Mr. Cochran was droning on about
stuff that I learned on my own a couple of years ago, so I didn’t feel bad
about not paying attention to him. If
Zach missed something I could always explain it to him later.
You could say that Zach was my best
friend. But then, he was my only friend.
I don’t start conversations, so I don’t
meet new friends unless they are like Zach.
At the beginning of the school year, he came up to me and introduced
himself. While his personality is
totally different from mine, we both like video games, especially Minecraft. We are also both into electronics and other
nerdy kind of stuff. He is very outgoing
and has a bunch of other friends. Still,
he makes time for me.
My plane was complete and so was
Zach’s. Zach mouthed that we should
throw them forward when Mr. Cochran turned around. This is
crazy, but awesome, I was thinking.
We watched. He turned. We lifted our planes. He turned back. We hid them quickly. Mr. Cochran gave a suspicious glance our way
but went on talking and turned to write something on the whiteboard.
That’s when we struck. Both planes took to the air above the heads
of the kids in front of us. As I
thought, mine flew better and farther.
Too far! Mr. Cochran turned
around just as my plane came right at his face!
He just barely dodged it and grabbed it as it bounced off the
whiteboard. The room erupted in
laughter. For a moment, I was in
heaven. Other kids were laughing at
something I did that was not embarrassing.
Visions of sudden popularity flashed through my brain.
Mr. Cochran’s eyes blazed, and face
reddened as he turned. “Silence! Who threw that?!”
The fingers pointed towards me were
too many to count. Mr. Cochran stared
straight at me. I swear I could almost
see steam coming from his nose and ears.
“Mr. Clarey, you will head straight
to the principal’s office! Do you hear
me?” I’m pretty sure the principal could
hear him from here. I imagined a roaring
locomotive of words heading straight for me and I was tied to the tracks.
Perhaps I should explain something
to you. I have what is known as High
Functioning Autism or HFA. A lot of
people call it Asperger’s Syndrome. I
can tell you more about it later but what you need to know now is that my brain
can get overwhelmed under pressure.
Right now, Mr. Cochran was bringing on the pressure.
“I said, head to the principal’s
office, NOW!”
I could no longer look at him. I buried my head in my hands and started
rocking. Through my fingers I could see
Zach get up.
“Zachary, sit back down! Mr. Clarey GO TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE!”
I heard the door open and
close. Did Zach go get me help?
“William Clarey, this is your last
chance. Get up and go to the principal’s
office or else.” Mr. Cochran was right
at my desk!
My thoughts were locked in a
loop. I blew it. He’s overreacting. I
can’t handle this. I blew it. He’s overreacting…
He grabbed my arm – the muscle
part- just above the elbow like he was going to yank me from my seat. I locked my grip on the desk and kept my head
down.
He tugged. “Move it! NOW!”
I gripped harder.
“Stand down Mr. Cochran,” came the
calm but firm voice of Ms. Elliot. She
was the special education teacher. Zach
must have gotten her. I hate the term
“Special Education” but right now, Ms. Elliot was an angel. “Continue with your lesson. I’ll take care of Wil.”
“He needs to be disciplined!” Mr. Cochran grumbled.
“He will be, appropriately.” She touched me lightly on the back. “I am
going to pull up a chair next to you Wil and when you are ready, we’ll
talk.” Then she just sat silently. She knew me well. She knew that, unlike a lot of people with
HFA, I did not mind being touched by people I trust. She also knew that I would come out of my
“defense mode” (that’s what it is officially called) once things around me
calmed down.
With the attention off me, I was
able to come out of it in just a few minutes. Ms. Elliot must have seen the change in
me. She’s good at that. She tapped my shoulder, nodded towards the
door and whispered, “ready?” I followed
her out the door. Mr. Cochran kept
talking – like Ms. Elliot and I were invisible.
Sometimes I wish I really was. I
won’t bore you with the details. Let’s
just say I had to call my mom that day and she had to take me home early. I was so glad that it was almost summer!
Incidentally, Mr. Cochran doesn’t
even know my real name. Neither do you
and I am not sure I want to tell you.
Let’s just say that I go by “Wil”, with one “l.”
Chapter 2 - Mom’s
News
Just a little more redstone dust and this
should work. It was two weeks after
the little incident in Mr. Cochran’s class. I was at home after school and mom would be there
any minute. I got my Minecraft time in before
mom got home so she wouldn’t bug me about my homework. I probably spend way too much time on the
game, but I have gotten really good at it.
I could vaguely hear my mom entering
the apartment. She would have to
wait. It was almost done. I just had to place one last repeater and get
Steve, the main Minecraft character, into position. I gave it one last check - and hit the button. Instantly, Steve was pushed from the depths
of the mine towards the surface. Up, up
he went until - he stopped a little over
half way up and plummeted back to the bottom.
“I said ‘Hello Wil’.” It was my mom’s voice Jennifer Clarey.
“Hi mom” I kept my eyes on the screen. I had worked for over an hour to make the
elevator work, only to be thwarted by one miss-click.
“Dinner will be ready in about
three minutes” came Mom’s cheerful voice, “Get your hands washed.”
“Just a couple more minutes, I need
to fix this.” Adjusting a repeater, I
hit the button again. The second attempt
at lifting Steve was successful. I did a
little victory dance in front of the living room TV. Zach would say that I’m nuts for building an
elevator to lift Steve to the surface, but I’m funny that way.
I really like gaming and videos
about gaming. I don’t really like
school. I know, no normal kid likes
school. But, for me, it’s worse. After what happened in Mr. Cochran’s class,
mom made me apologize to him. I can’t
say that I was totally sincere. I get
really bored at school. I already know a
bunch of that stuff and the rest I don’t see how I could ever need. Still, Mom insists that I go.
When I get bored, I fidget. When I fidget, I get in trouble. When I get in trouble I freeze up. Some of my teachers are good at handling
that. They give me room to fidget and
don’t get all in my space. Mr. Cochran
has never grasped that concept.
I hate that they had to call my mom
in after that problem in Mr. Cochran’s class.
Mom has enough to worry about.
It’s hard to make a living in Southern California as a single mom. My dad is not around. Mom has never told me anything about him. She works really hard. I don’t want her to worry about me.
I know she does anyway. I hear her talking on the phone about me to
my grandparents when she doesn’t think I can hear. I try not to listen, but sometimes I can’t
help it. Hopefully she won’t have as
much to worry about since it is almost summer.
Thirteen more days and then it’s just me and my games!
The small dining table in our
little apartment had two very different dinners on it. Mom had a take-out plate with steak, mashed
potatoes, green beans, and a salad. My
simple plate had mac ‘n’ dogs. Mom had
learned the hard lesson that autism does funny things to my taste buds making
certain foods, well, nasty. She now
chooses her battles wisely, not worrying too much about my diet as long as I
keep up on my vitamins.
“I have some very interesting
news!” Mom smiled.
“Interesting?” Was interesting news ever good? I wondered about the fancy dinner she
brought home. I just figured she wanted
to splurge for a change. Maybe she was celebrating. “What do you mean, interesting?”
“Well, I would call it exciting,
but I’m not sure if you will find it exciting.”
She paused like she was trying to build up the suspense. “I got a promotion at work today.” Another pause. “An amazing promotion. I’ll be making almost double what I do now.”
“Okay… Yay mom!?”
I never really know what to say at times like this. I know I should be excited for her, but it
just doesn’t come naturally. I must
learn to try harder I thought, but then I dismissed the thought as soon as it
occurred.
“There is a catch…”
Uh
oh. Here it comes.
“I will be on the road for the
summer.”
“What?! I don’t want to travel all
summer.” I hate to travel. The thought of being away from our
comfortable apartment all summer sent panic through my bones.
“You won’t be. I need to call Grandma and Grandpa Clarey
first, but I am pretty sure they will let you stay with them for the summer.”
I was confused. I was mad!
I was starting to freak out. “You
can’t just do that!” I started pacing. I do that – a lot. What
was she thinking? What am I going to
do? This isn’t fair! Those were my thoughts as I tried to sort
things out.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you so
suddenly. I really don’t want to be away
from you all summer but,” she paused. “I
really couldn’t pass this opportunity up.”
But
you could pass me up for the summer!
I tried to imagine what summer on my grandparents’ farm would be
like. I could not imagine. One word came to mind. Boring.
“I thought that a summer on the
farm would do you some good too.”
I was not sure I could let that go but I bit my tongue,
literally. How would you know what would be good for me?
“And you know that Grandma and
Grandpa keep trying to get us out there.”
I stayed silent. That’s
just an excuse so you feel less guilty. I felt betrayed. Is this
how my dad ditched us? Of course, my
mom never told me that. Maybe she was
hiding something else. I was boiling
inside.
“If you really don’t think you can handle it,” Mom paused for a moment. “I can call my boss…”
“No.” I stopped pacing. My thoughts settled, and I made my decision. “I’ll manage.
I won’t like it, but I’ll manage.”
Part of me wasn’t so sure.
Mom called Grandma and Grandpa
Clarey. They were “delighted at the
prospect” of having me there for the summer.
They insisted on talking to me. I
hate talking on the phone. Most of my
answers to their questions were “Uh huh” and “okay.” Sorry, I’ll never win any “Conversationalist
of the Year” awards. I finally was able
to give the phone back to mom when I said I had to do my homework.
It was tough concentrating that
night. Earlier I was counting the days
till summer. A quick calculation told me
that now it was 114 days until Summer is over!