Chapter Twenty-One
Emmet
I love the season of autumn the best. I like the cooler temperatures, warm but not as humid, and I love the sound of leaves as I walk down the sidewalk from the bus stop to my house. The street where my parents live has a lot of trees, so a lot of leaves, but the sidewalks around The Roosevelt have the best leaves because the trees are so big and old. Most of the trees were oaks, and they dropped their leaves early. There was one tree by the playground, though, that hadn’t turned color yet, and so all the leaves were still on. I watched it every day, wondering if I could catch it turning.
I checked the tree once I’d dropped my backpack off in my apartment. I always went into the apartment first, even if I saw Jeremey outside. I’d wave to him and sign be right there if he saw me, but otherwise I went straight in. I did this on October 5, same as always. Except on that day, before I could go to my room, I ran into David.
He was rolling down the first-floor hallway, heading from the laundry room toward the door. He waved when he saw me, though his waves are unusual, since he can’t really use his hands. “Hey, Em. Come on outside. We’re carving pumpkins. Jeremey’s already out there.”
I tried not to be angry when I talked with David, but he made my teeth itch every time. Also he never called me by the right name. “I have to go to my apartment now.”
I headed for the stairs, but he cut me off. “Seriously, you should come. They said they’d let me strap a knife to my wrist and do some of the carving. I might end up taking off part of my arm. Could be exciting.”
I don’t know why David thought I’d want to see him cut himself. I didn’t want to talk to him, and I was anxious. He always pushed me, especially when I said no. It made me angry. Usually someone was around to help me get away, but today there was no one. Everyone must be outside already.
I covered my ears with my hands. That’s not the proper sign for don’t talk to me right now, but David is dumb about my signs, so I thought I had to make it louder. I tried to go around him and go to the stairs.
He rolled into my way. His face was angry, and his voice was so loud it cut through my hand barriers. “Hey. Listen, I’m trying to be nice. I’m inviting you to come out and hang with us. I’m trying to be friendly.”
He wasn’t friendly. He was an asshole. I shut my eyes and pressed my hands tighter on my ears. “Go away. You’re a jerk. I don’t like you. I don’t want to hang with you.” I wouldn’t go help carve pumpkins now, though I wanted to. I couldn’t stand to be around David. Not even for Jeremey.
“I’m not being a jerk. Jesus. What the fuck is your problem, anyway?”
I shut my eyes tighter and started to hum and rock. He’d think I was the R word, but I didn’t care. I had to shut him out.
Except his voice is so loud I couldn’t block it, which is why I heard him say, “Fine. I’ll go flirt with your boyfriend then. See how you like that, asshole—”
He stopped talking then because I’d unblocked my ears, opened my eyes and punched him in the face.
It hurt my hand, but I didn’t care. I bunched my fist up and pulled it back by my head, ready to hit him a second time. I made my yelling noise. I hadn’t made it in a long time, not since I was fourteen, but I hadn’t forgotten how good it felt, all my anger rushing up my throat and out of my mouth. He swore and flailed his arms, but he couldn’t hit me back. I moved too fast. Also because his arms don’t work.
“Fucker—” He fumbled with his chair controls, trying to get out of my way. “Knock it the hell off.”
I chased him, more angry all the time. “You won’t leave me alone. I told you I wanted to go to my room, that I didn’t like you, but you won’t stop. You never stop.” Soon he’d hit his help button on his tray and I’d be in trouble, but all my anger was out now.
“I’m being good for Jeremey. He said he loved me, not you, but you’re an asshole and you’re going to try to take him. I don’t care if you’re in a chair and can’t move. I don’t feel sorry for you. I hate you. You’re just like the jerks at school who make fun of me and call me the R word. You probably call me the R word all the time and laugh at me. You think you can take Jeremey from me. Hmmmm.” I got so angry I had to rock a second and pull the anger back. “You can’t have him. I’m being a good boyfriend. You can’t have Jeremey. I won’t let you take him from me, ever.”
He was going to say something. He had his mouth open, his clumsy hand held up like it wanted to say wait, but I didn’t wait. He’d moved away from the stairs, and I went up them as fast as I could. I locked the door to the apartment, went into my room and locked that door too. I grabbed my foam hammer and pounded, pounded, pounded—but it wasn’t enough.
All I could see in my head was Jeremey holding David’s hand. Jeremey said he loved me best, but now I knew David wanted Jeremey too.
David had lied. He was gay. He wanted Jeremey for himself. Jeremey liked how David talked. How he flirted. It didn’t matter that I was almost ready for anal sex or that David was in a chair. David would find a way to make it not matter.
David wasn’t autistic, and neither was Jeremey. David would find a way to change Jeremey’s mind, and I wouldn’t be able to fight it.
Because I was autistic. Because there was so a normal. And I couldn’t be it, ever.
I threw the hammer at my bookshelf and yelled more. I ripped up my bed, throwing the sheets all over. I banged a pillow on the door until it broke into pieces, all the fluff falling out around the room. My anger and sadness was my ocean, and I couldn’t carry it. Not anymore.
No one could really love me. Not when they could love somebody else instead.
Here’s another example of why it’s wrong to say autistic people don’t feel emotions. I felt very emotional about David, but usually I could make modifications so I didn’t have to let my emotions take over. Though I yelled and hit him, I still kept most of my feelings to myself, until I went to my room and could let them out. It’s not nice for people to say I’m unemotional because I’m better than they are at management.
I didn’t feel like I was good at management that day, though. Even after letting myself get extra angry and break some things, all the feelings were still loud inside me. Too loud. I wanted to shut down, to go into my closet and be in the dark and quiet until everything calmed down. But I could hear people in the apartment outside my door. I felt Jeremey’s text pulse against my leg in my pants pocket. They’d know I hit David, that I’d lost my temper. I hadn’t lost my temper like this in front of any of them, and I didn’t know how they would punish me. Sometimes nice people are not nice at all when autistic people get angry.
I didn’t know either how Jeremey would feel when he found out I hit David. I thought about him maybe not loving me anymore, and I wanted to go into my closet. I didn’t, even though I was scared. I sat on the end of my bed and rocked with my eyes shut, waiting to see what bad thing would happen. Would Tammy try to talk to me? Sally? Mom? Would Jeremey talk to me, or was he already so angry with me he was talking to Bob about moving out? Would they kick me out and send me home, since I was the bad one?
How was it fair that I’d tried to get away from David, but I would be the bad one?
It got quiet on the other side of the door. I was wondering if they’d all left when the knock came.
Knock, knock-knock.
It was a strange knock. Not any of my signals, but it was rough and uneven.
“Emmet. It’s David. You don’t need to let me in, but I wanted to talk to you.”
I froze but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to talk to him, or listen. But I didn’t know who else was listening, and I didn’t want any more trouble. I kept quiet and waited to see what would happen next.
What happened was David kept talking. His voice was softer, more sad than usual. He almost sounded like a different person.
“I…I’m gonna assume you’re listening. Probably I’m talking to myself more than anyone else anyway, so…whatever.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, and you’re right. I’m a jerk, and I didn’t listen to you when you said you wanted to go. I was being selfish. I wanted to bring you out for Jeremey. He’d been waiting for you, to show you the pumpkin he’d made. It’s pretty special. You should go see it.”
I kept my eyes shut and rocked gently. I wanted to hum, but I didn’t want him to know I was listening, so I kept quiet.
“Anyway. I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’m trying with you, to get along, but I keep doing it wrong. I’m sorry. I think I do it because you don’t like me. Though it’s more you don’t give a shit that I’m in a chair. Jeremey’s not bad, but do you know you’re the only one in my life right now who sees me before they see my injury? You don’t like what you see, but…well, this sounds pathetic, but that’s my favorite thing. You don’t feel sorry for me. You think I’m a jerk and don’t want anything to do with me. I think part of me has it worked out if I could win you over, if I could sweet-talk you…well, see, then the one person who saw me for me would be on my side. Which is probably dumb. And selfish. But I guess that’s what I am. A dumb, selfish jerk.”
I did hum a little now. I wasn’t sure what to think. Was he lying, saying he wanted me to like him? It felt like a trick. But he didn’t sound like he was joking.
He kept talking. “As for Jeremey—that was a joke, me saying I was going to flirt with him and steal him away. I didn’t mean it, but I should have known better than to tease you that way. You gotta understand in my own head that’s the most obvious joke there is. I could never steal anybody away from anyone. Even if I were gay or he were a girl, I don’t think I could. How would I do it, huh? Forget sex—which is something I don’t know how I’ll ever have again—how exactly am I supposed to put the moves on somebody? Headbutt them? Whack them with my arm? Strap a spoon to my wrist and pet them with it?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t a funny laugh. More sad. “Dude. Even if I could, he wouldn’t leave you. He loves you. He said you’re jealous of me—fuck, man. I’m jealous of you. And not only because you have somebody like Jeremey who cares about you. I’m jealous because you’ve always had your disability. It’s always been part of you, so you don’t have this memory of what you used to be, of what you could have been if you’d driven the speed limit or that deer hadn’t jumped out in front of you. It’s easy for you to make autism part of who you are. You don’t know anything different. But me, every single day I think about what could have been. Should have been. Every day I think about how much life I have in front of me, and yet the nineteen years I was able-bodied hang around my neck like a big yoke, holding me back.”
I didn’t feel as angry at him, but I worried he was tricking me. “You’re still a jerk,” I said, but not as angry. I hummed and rocked.
He laughed, the sad laugh, but it was a little brighter this time. “See, Em? This is why I want to be friends with you. I tell you all that, and you don’t feel sorry for me. You think I’ve been flirting with Jeremey? Fuck that shit. I’m flirting with you. You’re the one I want to win over.”
That sounded good, much better than him wanting Jeremey, but I couldn’t trust him. And I didn’t care for the nickname Em. “I don’t want to be your boyfriend. Jeremey is much better than you.”
“How about regular friends? How about we hang out sometimes, and you call me a jerk and hit me when I’m out of line, but we say we’re on the same side?”
I opened my eyes and stared at the back of the door, rocking. “It’s a trick. Guys like you don’t have autistic friends.”
“It’s not a trick. I’m outside your door begging like a dog.” He paused. “And fine. Before my accident, I wouldn’t have asked to be friends. I maybe would have been mean to you, just as you say. Except I’ve had my accident. I’m not that guy anymore. Or I’m that guy with his eyes open. Let’s have a do-over. If not for me, then for Jeremey. I think he’d be less nervous if he didn’t think this was going to happen every day.”
I did worry about Jeremey. “Is he there? Is he upset?”
“He left with the others to wait outside, but I bet he’s in the hall. They didn’t want to let me talk to you. Everyone worried I’d mess it up more than I already had.”
They worried he would mess it up? “They aren’t angry I hit you?”
“I didn’t tell them.”
I stopped rocking and stared at the door.
“I didn’t tell them,” he said again. “I have a big red mark on my forehead, but I said I slammed it into the doorway trying to follow you. I don’t think Jeremey believes me. But if he figures it out, I’ll tell him I had it coming, that it’s not your fault. It isn’t. To be honest, I needed it.”
“No one needs hitting. It’s bad.”
“Sometimes we jerks need a bonk in the head to keep us in line. Thanks for having my back.”
I didn’t say anything to that, only kept staring at the door, rocking and humming. He went quiet too, but I didn’t hear him roll away. I wasn’t sure what to do now. I was pretty sure he wasn’t tricking me, but I still felt strange saying I was David’s friend. I decided if we were going to be friends, we should talk a little more. Get to know one another.
“David’s my middle name,” I said at last.
“Oh? Nice. Emmet David Washington. Good ring to it. Mine is Samuel. After my grandpa.”
“Mine is after my mom’s brother. He died when she was in high school. Emmet was her grandpa.”
He didn’t answer right away, but it was a good pause. “Jeremey showed me websites and books about autism. I started following that Carly girl on Twitter. I keep trying to think of a tweet to say to her, but I can’t think of anything.”
“She doesn’t reply to anyone. Not on Twitter or Facebook.”
“Oh. Huh. Bummer.”
I hummed and rocked while I thought about what I wanted to say next. I replayed the conversation in my head, pausing at the part where he talked about sex. “You should look on the Internet about how to have sex as a quadriplegic. The Internet has everything.”
He made a grunt noise. “Yeah, mostly it has people being sad and pathetic, and it bums me out. I haven’t had the courage to dig in.”
“I could research it for you. I’m good at research. Especially about sex.”
There was a pause before he answered. “I’m serious about not wanting to have gay sex. I don’t knock it for you and Jer, but I’m talking sex with girls.”
“There’s information on the Internet about everything. Even sex with animals, but I don’t read those articles.”
He laughed, not a sad laugh this time. “Okay. If you find me stuff about quad sex that isn’t depressing, I’d love to hear it. Thanks.”
I rocked some more. “So we can be friends now. Unless you’re a jerk.”
“Please be my friend even if I’m a jerk. Hit me. That will always get my attention.”
“I can’t hit you. Hitting is wrong.” I hummed and flapped. “I could make a sign and teach you. A sign that means, David, you’re a jerk and need to stop right now.”
“They have one of those already. It’s called your middle finger.”
The middle finger is a rude gesture, and I’m not supposed to do it. But I decided that for David, a rude gesture was probably exactly what I needed. “Okay.”
“Great. Now will you open this door and come out?”
I opened the door. He backed up so I could get through. I tried to read his face, and I think he was relieved.
He was right. Everyone was in the hall outside our apartment, and Jeremey was at the front of the group. He looked nervous, so I signed it’s okay to him. When he still looked nervous, I took his hand and held it. “Please show me your pumpkin surprise, Jeremey.”
He took me outside, and everyone else followed. The surprise was that Jeremey had carved his pumpkin with a train on it. It was delicate and must have taken him a long time. It was beautiful.
I told him thank you and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled.
David rolled up, looking more like himself. “What did I tell you? It’s perfect for you. A train pumpkin for Train Man.”
Tammy and Sally made angry faces at him when he said this, and Jeremey looked nervous too. But David grinned at me, not a mean grin.
I liked the nickname Train Man. I smiled at my friend.
Then I smiled wider, because when the wind blew, it drew my attention to the trees. The big maple had yellow tips on the ends of some of its leaves. They hadn’t been there when I’d checked that morning. The tree was changing at last.
I’d known it would, eventually. Everything will change, if you wait long enough.