YAY! I shout! YAY DAD! YAY FOR ME! YAY FOR DEVON! LET’S START NOW!
Dad puts his arms up like he’s being arrested. Okay. Okay. This means quiet.
When can we start? I whisper.
First you need to learn a little about woodworking. We have some books—
I already read them! I shout because I forget to whisper.
You did?
Yes. You threw the books in Devon’s room. Remember?
He nods. Okay. You’ll still need to do some hands-on learning. You have to do it and feel it to really Get It.
Oh. Okay. I want to really Get It.
All right but it’s bedtime now and we need a good sleep before working on it. We can start tomorrow.
First thing?
We’ll need to get some supplies first.
Lowe’s?
He nods.
They open at seven a.m. remember? When you and Devon used to work on the chest on weekends you got up early and—
I know.
We need to leave at six forty a.m. to get there in time and get a spot right by the door so we’re first in line okay?
He sighs. Okay.
Do you want me to wake you up?
No. I can get up.
Are you sure?
Don’t I get up on time every morning?
Yes. But what does that have to do with tomorrow morning?
I’ll get up. Don’t worry.
Okay but I’ll wake you up if you’re not up by six a.m. so you have time to shower.
After I go to bed I decide I should take the sheet off the chest to remind Dad we have to work on it but I have to stay up a long long time because Dad sits on the sofa forever just staring at the sheet. When he goes to bed I get up and go to the living room and take the sheet off the chest and I smile at all of its parts because we are finally going to have Closure.
And I hide the sheet inside my purple fleece and stuff it way under my bed where Dad can’t find it in case he changes his mind.
CHAPTER 29
PUTTING OUR LIFE BACK TOGETHER
I SHOW DAD DEVON’S LIST AND he nods. We go to Lowe’s and get a lot of the supplies on the list including quarter-cut oak. We also buy things that aren’t on the list. Like wood filler.
Before we can add anything to the chest Dad first has to put wood filler where the holes are from when he wrenched out the screws and threw the chest on the floor on The Day Our Life Fell Apart. He also has to cut out some sections that he destroyed when he kicked the chest on The Day Our Life Fell Apart. I think about those words and how I haven’t said them lately. I think that maybe now is the day we start to put our life back together.
It takes Dad a long time to fix the parts that he broke. He scrunches up his face and makes noises like it hurts him as much as the chest. He even says, This is rough, and, This is hard.
I know, I say, after he says, This is hard, for the third time. This is what happens when you have a TRM, I tell him. You make a mess. It’s okay. You just have to try harder next time.
I am trying hard, Dad says.
I know. You get a sticker.
Thank you.
Okay. You get another sticker for being polite.
Thanks. His lips press together and it almost looks like a smile. I forgot that Dad used to smile. I wonder if Closure will make him smile.
After a while Dad sits on the sofa and turns on Fox Five News.
You’re not quitting are you? I ask him.
No. I’m just stuck. And I want to watch the news.
I don’t like the news.
I’ll only watch a little.
Is there any other way to get unstuck?
You can go get one of those woodworking books. It has the word Mission in the title. I need to take a look at it.
Okay. I run to Devon’s room. I find the Mission book and start to leave but look back at the room. The sun is shining behind Devon’s blue shade and I go back in to put his shade up so the sun pours in and makes his room warm and bright and I can see dust particles in the beams of light that maybe are part of Devon or maybe not but they make Devon’s room look happy again.
Caitlin! Where’s that book?
Coming! I say. But first I do something important. I leave Devon’s door open.
When I come back in the living room the news lady is talking about the Virginia Dare shooter. He was obviously disturbed, she says, just like the boys involved in today’s school shooting in Maryland. Let me warn you that the video we are about to show of the event has some very disturbing content.
Dad grabs the remote and shuts off the TV.
We both sit on the sofa without moving.
I hug the Mission book but it’s not the same as my Dictionary. It doesn’t take away the recess feeling in my stomach.
I would rather be under the sofa cushion than on top of it but I’m frozen in place.
We both look at the chest in the corner.
Dad sighs.
There is no face for Disturbed on the Facial Expressions Chart so I don’t know exactly what it looks like. But I know it’s not good. It’s the kind of face that gives you a bad feeling because I thought everything would be okay now that we’re working on the chest. But it’s still not.
CHAPTER 30
FRIENDS
OKAY, I TELL MRS. BROOK, NOW it’s soon. I’m ready.
For what?
She doesn’t Get It. The whole friendship thing. It’s time now.
Oh Caitlin! Mrs. Brook claps. I’m delighted! What changed your mind?
Dad is working on the chest. It’s hard for him. He really has to Work At It. If he can do it then I guess I can too. And also . . . maybe it really will help me get to Closure. The chest alone does not seem to be working.
I’m so proud of you!
I know.
I think you’re really going to like this.
I shake my head. I don’t think I’m going to like it at all. I think it’s going to hurt. But after the hurt I think maybe something good and strong and beautiful will come out of it. Just like Dad said about the chest.
Mrs. Brook smiles so wide she has two rows of dimples. Her cheeks puff up and her eyes squish and water comes out of them and her face looks a little bit like a sponge.
At reading buddies time I manage not to scare my buddy. I keep my voice down. And I smile. Sometimes. I think it’s a good start.
I do the special wave to Michael across the room. I think he grins even more than when Josh high-fives him which makes me feel very happy about how good I am at friendship.
In the cafeteria I sit down next to Laura who is very pretty and very popular. I think she should be my friend.
What are you doing? Laura asks.
Sitting next to you.
Why?
Because I want you to be my friend.
Laura looks at the people around her. They are all giggling and holding their trays but not sitting down. These are the girls who usually sit at Laura’s table.
You can sit down, I tell them.
They look at each other and laugh or roll their eyes.
You’re sitting where Anna sits, Laura says.
Oh, I say. It’s nice of her to tell me because I honestly don’t remember where every one of them sits. I take a bite of my cheese sandwich.
So move, Laura says. Her eyes are getting squishy and narrow.
I Look At The Person. Where do you want me to sit?
At a different table.
I take my tray and go to the table where I normally sit. Okay. That did not work. I can try someone else. But first I eat my sandwich because I’m hungry.
When I finish both halves I notice Mia at the next table. She is not as pretty and not as popular as Laura but she could still be a good friend.
I go over to her and say, Hi.
Then I go back to my table and drink my juice box.
When I’m done I go say, How are you? to Mia because that’s being
polite.
O-kaaay, she says slowly.
I go back and sit down. Then I realize maybe she’s not okay because her okay sounded kind of weird.
I go back to her. Hi.
She stares at me. So do Emma and some other girls who are with her. What do you want? Mia asks.
I want you to be my friend.
Like for today?
No. Forever.
I—I don’t really know you.
That’s okay. I can tell you what you need to know.
Um . . . I really just want to be alone. Mia starts giggling.
Emma frowns at her. Mi-a! she says in Dad’s warning voice.
I can still Work At being a friend though because all through lunch people keep coming up to Mia and bothering her. Every single time I go and tell those people, Leave Mia alone. She wants to be alone today.
Mia gets mad every time I have to say it. It doesn’t make me mad though. I don’t mind. I’m a good helper. And a good friend.
Finally Mia yells at me except I’m so surprised she’s yelling at me that I don’t even know what she says.
Emma comes into my Personal Space. Caitlin. Um. Listen. You’re really annoying Mia. You have to stop telling people to leave her alone.
But she wants to be alone. She said so. I’m HELPING her.
Emma sighs. You don’t Get It. Mia doesn’t really want everyone to leave her alone.
Then why did she say that?
I guess she didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
Why would that hurt my feelings?
Emma sighs again. She wants YOU to leave her alone. Only you.
Why?
Emma looks at the floor. Well . . . because . . . she thinks you’re . . . different.
I think Emma is the one who doesn’t Get It.
When we’re in music Rachel throws up so Emma takes her to the school nurse. The teacher is busy trying to get someone to clean up the puke and everyone is saying, Ew! P-U! so I go over to Mia and ask her, Why do you want me to leave you alone?
Mia and the girls around her giggle. Okay. Um. Because you’re . . . special.
Thank you, I say.
More giggles.
I mean, Mia says, you’re the kind of special that’s a little weird.
Weird?
Mia crosses her arms and breathes out LOUD. Your behavior? You know?
What do you mean? I ask.
She rolls her eyes. Your behavior is . . . well . . . disturbing.
Disturbing? My behavior is disturbing? The school shooter’s behavior was disturbing. I start shaking my hands because that word is too scary and I can barely breathe.
She looks at my hands that are shaking faster and faster. Yes. Disturbing.
I am NOT disturbing!
You’re disturbing us right now, one of the girls says. The rest of them start laughing.
Guys, guys! another girl says. Stop it! Stop laughing! She’s autistic. Like William H.
My hands are shaking really fast now. I am NOT autistic!
Some of the girls laugh.
William doesn’t talk. Can you HEAR ME TALKING?
Okay but—
William eats DIRT and SCREAMS when he gets mad! I AM NOT AUTISTIC! I am breathing hard and I want to jump out of my skin but I grit my teeth and shake my hands harder and turn and run away and I hear screaming and I don’t know if it’s music class or Mia or me.
I am sitting in Mrs. Brook’s room staring at the table. I thought special was good, I mutter.
We’re all special in different ways, she says. Special IS good.
Not if it’s disturbing. How come she called me disturbing? And guess what? She disturbs me!
I can feel Mrs. Brook nodding even though I don’t Look At The Person.
Besides, I tell her, I’m NOT autistic. William H. is autistic.
Caitlin, she says. Did you know that William is very good at soccer? And that he can play the piano? And that he’s my friend?
No. I knew that he had Mrs. Brook time but I didn’t know they were friends.
I like William, Mrs. Brook says. And I can’t play the piano at all or play soccer. We all have different talents—
I know, I say.
But Mrs. Brook talks right on top of my words—and just because we’re better at some things than William doesn’t mean we’re any better than he is.
I didn’t say that.
But it sounds like that’s what you meant.
I nod and sigh. It is what I meant.
Do you see how it’s not fair for you to—
Yes, I say. It’s my turn to talk on top of her words now. I Get It. William H. even remembers to smile a lot more than I do so there are several things he’s better at than me. I sigh again. But I’m still not like him. Not exactly. I Look At The Person. Am I?
We all fall on the spectrum of behavior somewhere. She puts one hand on one side of the table and her other grips the far side. Here’s the spectrum, she says. It’s a line and we’re all on it. Some of us are farther along the line than others.
I know from art class that a spectrum is all the colors of the rainbow. It’s more like a prism than a line. Or maybe a fat line with lots of colors. I don’t like the way colors blur together in art. How do you know where one ends and the other begins? I have to know exactly where I am in space. That’s why I draw in black and white.
Mrs. Brook picks up one hand and runs a finger almost all the way to the end of the table. You’re around here. Very high functioning. Very smart. Very capable.
William H. is on the other side, I say.
William is farther along the line. Yes.
I grip the edges of the table like Mrs. Brook and squinch my eyes at the tabletop and wonder which spot EXACTLY is me. I don’t want to run into anyone else. You just don’t know what might happen.
Are you feeling better now Caitlin?
I think I’ll skip the friend thing.
You should be very proud of yourself for trying so hard today. Remember that everyone can find a friend. She is still gripping the edges of the table. So hard that her knuckles are pale. And obviously we need to work on friendship skills in the fifth grade as a whole. These girls need some educating.
They need to learn some finesse too, I say.
Mrs. Brook nods. Yes. And some better friendship skills.
I know it. They will never make friends that way.
CHAPTER 31
IT’S A GIRL THING
AFTER RECESS I HATE PE THE most. Recess I hate because everyone screams and runs around crazy and grabs you and pushes you and you have absolutely no idea what will happen next. At least in PE there is a teacher so you know what will happen next even though it might involve screaming, grabbing and running around crazy.
Class! Mr. Mason shouts. He always shouts. It’s just what PE teachers do. Boys! JoshNelson-BruceShaneJoey! Stop that right now or you’ll be getting a special one-way ticket to see Miss Harper!
I don’t see why they get to have a special one-way ticket to the principal’s office. I’m behaving myself perfectly and I am getting no free tickets.
I’m breaking you boys up! Josh—Josh! You and Nelson are on that side of the gym and the rest of you hooligans are on this side! Shane and Bruce! You’re in charge of William H. His assistant isn’t here today. Make sure he doesn’t run off if I turn my back!
Can we have free play today? a boy asks.
When pigs fly, Mr. Mason says. I’m not sure what he means by that.
Dodgeball today! he yells, and I start sucking on my sleeve. Dodgeball is bad enough but I hope he doesn’t try to make us wear pinnies. I hate the feel of them. And they remind me of clamshells and I hate the gooey icky inside of a clam.
He goes to the closet and pulls out the big cardboard box with the pinnies and I start sucking both sleeves. He grabs William H. who is trying to run out the door. Shane and Bruce! What did I just tell you? You’re watching William H.! Everyone else—put on these pinnies! And hurry! William H
. loves dodgeball so the sooner we get this game started the better! Mr. Mason starts throwing yellow and red pinnies at people around the gym.
A yellow one lands at my feet and I stare at it.
Come on Caitlin! Pick it up!
I stare at it.
What’s the problem!
I don’t like clams.
Me neither! Put on the pinnie!
Mr. Mason! Shane yells. I can’t hold William H.!
Mr. Mason swears and goes to grab William H. Hurry up and get ready! He looks over at me. Caitlin! The pinnie!
But I don’t like clams.
What’s that got to do with the price of fish!
What? Why is he talking about fish?
Oh for the love of—Why do they give me all the autistic kids?
Some people laugh. I’m not sure who all the autistic kids are. I thought William H. was the only one.
Some girls are whispering next to me. I brace myself because when a bunch of girls is whispering that usually means someone will squeal or scream so I need to be prepared. Emma is one of the girls and she’s pretty loud most of the time.
This time is no different. She tells Mr. Mason, Some of us need to go see Mrs. Brook.
Why? Mr. Mason asks.
I wonder too. I never knew she went to see Mrs. Brook.
The other girls are also looking at her. Finally she answers. It’s a girl thing.
Mr. Mason’s face goes red and he nods.
I will have to remember that remark.
Emma looks at me then at Mr. Mason then back to me. I think you should come with us.
I follow Emma and two other girls down the hall to Mrs. Brook’s room. Emma is complaining loudly about Mr. Mason, saying, That was SO inappropriate, even though there’s No Talking In The Hall. I try to remind her but Emma’s voice takes up all the room. When she grows up she should be one of those TV interviewers on Fox Five News who doesn’t let anyone else talk even if they try.
When we get to Mrs. Brook’s room she’s on the phone but it doesn’t stop Emma from blurting out something so fast I can’t even follow it.
Mrs. Brook tells the phone person she’ll have to call back and she hangs up.