Never Alone

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

The treatment room was only quiet for a few seconds, but that silence was deafening. Ken struggled to control his emotions, but finally the sorrow broke free. It was different that time. I can't tell you how, but I imagine the why had something to do with the door that had been opened for him and allowed him to understand the difference between hate and fear and the way the two had always been enmeshed.

Damien kept his hand on Ken's arm. "I'd be afraid, too," he told Ken. "I don't know how you get past seeing that. The guilt has to be crushing, man."

"Damien," Dr. Crimm prompted.

There was no hesitation. The pill was on his tongue and down his throat.

Dr. Crimm prompted him to think back and the rest of us watched as he began his treatment.

The screen behind the boys flickered again. Could I watch anything else? Could I handle it? Could my heart?

Text began to fill the screen, rapidly moving from the bottom to the top and disappearing over the edge. I couldn't read it as fast as it moved, but I recognized the story. It was one of my favorites from when I was in second grade: Charlotte's Web. A tiny finger slid along the lines of text and when a voice called to Damien that it was past his bedtime, he tossed aside the book, revealing small feet poking out from beneath little-boy pajamas covered in superheroes. There was the sound of a door opening and a beautiful woman came into the boy's bedroom.

"Are you excited about tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes!" he squealed.

"First day of kindergarten!" she said lovingly. She kissed him on his forehead and tucked him in under the covers. "Charlotte again?" She asked as she put his book on the nightstand. "You know, the new friends you're going to meet tomorrow aren't even going to know how to read yet."

"Why?"

"Well, reading isn't something a five-year-old is supposed to be good at. You just have a superpower." His mother smiled as she cupped his cheek in her hand. "We're lucky parents."

"Is autism a superpower?" Damien asked.

His mother's smile faltered. She looked away quickly and then back to him when her smile had found its home on her face again. "Yeah, baby. Autism is a superpower. Some of your new friends might get jealous about that." Her voice grew unsteady as she pulled the covers even higher up around his chin. The walls around him were crisp and clear, not like the dripping, sliding, wet backgrounds of the other hallucinations. Damien's were all right angles and perfectly detailed. I was having trouble focusing on the image of the woman when I could see each sharp spike of the dinosaur teeth from the graphic border along the wall where it met the ceiling above her.

"Jealous?"

She nodded. Her hand smoothed his hair and then stroked his cheek. "Sometimes. When people can't do what you can, they get jealous. When people don't understand things, they can get mean. I want you to remember that autism is a superpower, not a burden. If kids don't like it, it's because something is wrong with them—not you. Real friends are going to love you, because you're awesome." She touched her finger to the tip of his nose and made him giggle.

"Like you love Daddy?'

She smiled. "Exactly like I love Daddy."

Damien was rigid in his chair, which seemed odd to me because it was such a warm and beautiful moment. It certainly felt that way in contrast to what we had just seen with Ken and his father, but the memory seemed to cause Damien angst.