You go to a section marked GALLERY. There are hundreds of pictures—fundraisers, mostly. You scroll through them, not even sure what you’re looking for. Endless shots of gala evenings, ball gowns, half marathons, sponsored skydives…

And then, so sudden you almost miss it and have to go back to check, a face you know.

Mike. Wearing a tuxedo and handing over a check. Dr. Mike Austin, co-founder of Scott Robotics, passes a donation of $18,000 to Dr. Eliot Laurence, founder of Positive Autism.

You click on a menu item headed OUR METHODS.

Here at Haven Farm Ranches we embrace the whole person, not just the disability. Following an approach called Positive Autism, we use good diet, outdoor work, and holistic therapies to reduce stress and manage anxiety…

   Mike met Dr. Laurence at a Haven Farm fundraiser. Dr. Laurence consults to Haven Farm Ranches.

That’s the connection to Abbie. It must be.

TWENTY-THREE

   We heard the terrible news about Danny from Mike and Jenny. Tim got a call to go straight to the Benioff Children’s Hospital—Danny’d had some kind of seizure and they were doing tests, he told Mike later by phone.

It was several days before we heard the words childhood disintegrative disorder. We immediately looked it up, of course.

CDD has been described by many writers as a devastating condition, affecting both the family and the individual’s future. As is the case with all pervasive developmental disorders, there are no medications available to directly treat CDD, and considerable controversy as to whether any treatments or interventions can have a beneficial effect.

Those of us with kids held them a little tighter that night.

It was a surprise to see Tim back at work on Monday morning. “It’s better to keep busy,” he told people. But people who had meetings with him reported that he was often distracted by whatever he was reading on his computer.

   “He’s using PubMed to research his son’s diagnosis,” someone spotted.

That night Sol Ayode had to go back into the office late to fetch some papers he’d left behind. It was after ten P.M., and as we were in a relatively calm part of the development cycle there was no reason for anybody else to be there. As Sol walked toward his desk, though, he heard someone say, “Tim Scott, you are the cutest man in the world.”

He could see through the open door of Tim’s office. The only light was coming from a work lamp, so it was hard to make out who was in there—he could only see silhouettes. At first he thought it was Abbie, standing in front of the desk, with Tim crouched in front of her. But then he realized it wasn’t Abbie, even though it was speaking in Abbie’s voice. It was the A-bot.

“Tim Scott, you are the cutest man in the world,” it said again. Then, “Though you can also be a bit of a dork sometimes.”

Tim was weeping.

As Sol tiptoed away, he heard the A-bot saying it over and over again. “Tim Scott, you are the cutest man in the world.”

69

   As soon as Tim’s asleep you call Mike Austin. It’s gone midnight, but he picks up immediately.

“I need to see you,” you tell him. “It’s important.”

He’s silent a moment. “Tim’s mad at me, isn’t he?”

“It’s not that. It’s Abbie—the real Abbie. She’s alive.” You pause. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

* * *

—

He arranges to meet you at the office. Jenny’s sleeping, he says, and he doesn’t want to disturb her.

You summon an Uber to the back gates. The roads are quiet and the app tells you you’ll be there in half an hour.

You spend the time in the car searching for memories. There’s a knack to it, you’re discovering. Instead of straining for them, you have to drift. If you reach for them, they slip from your grasp. If you go blank and just let them come to you, they will.

They do.

70

   Within a few weeks Julian had assembled a whole team of therapists. Tim came to a training session readily. He was right behind ABA, after all.

“Okay,” Julian said, setting a chair in the middle of the room. “Tim, today you’re jack-in-the-box, and this chair is the box.”

He put a big red squeaky button on the floor next to the chair. Then he got Tim to sit on the chair. Eager to play now, Danny allowed his hand to be positioned over the button. “One, two…” Julian prompted.

“Free.”

Julian pushed down on Danny’s hand and the button, and Tim stood up.

“Hmm,” Julian said. “Maybe a bit more engaging. Like this.”

He took Tim’s place in the chair while you helped Danny push the button. Immediately Julian rocketed into the air, arms flailing. “Yeaaaaargh!” he yelled. Danny laughed.

Julian turned back to Tim. “Like that.”

   Tim tried again, but he just wasn’t as naturally playful as Julian. His “Yeargh” sounded like a retch of disgust.

“Okay. Let’s try something else.” Julian switched to a game where Danny got tickled every time he made eye contact.

Watching them, it struck you that, even before Danny’s regression, Tim had never really done horseplay with him. He was trying to follow Julian’s instructions now, but you could tell he found it difficult.

“Gotcha!” Julian pounced on Danny, who giggled. Tim gave them both a dark look.

* * *

—

“I just don’t think what he’s doing can be proper ABA,” Tim complained later, when Julian had gone.

“It’s modern ABA. Same principles, but it’s moved on since Lovaas’s day,” you said confidently. Julian had been explaining this to you, in between sessions.

“But it hasn’t, has it? Moved on. Not in terms of results. It’s moved backward. No one’s been able to match Lovaas’s original success.”

“Lovaas’s therapists shouted and used electric shocks.”

“That’s what’s worrying me. What if those methods were actually integral to the results? You can’t just take one whole vector out of a study and assume it’ll work the same.”

“But we can see it’s working. Besides, Danny adores Julian.”

On reflection, you realized later, that may not have been the smartest thing you could have said.