novembre

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van wig

there is a student at the school where i work who feels things in many of the same ways that i do, but in a sharply heightened, demanding way.

(i'm not referring to his obsession with afros, or how certain mens' forearms send his senses into a tizzy.)

he is exceptionally empathetic and sensitive for an autistic person; so much so that his low self-esteem hinges on anyone's reaction.

if a person is angry, frustrated, sad, confused, moored, standoffish he will take it personally. he knows that moods are caused and where there is cause there is blame. he just can't figure out past this; which is classic autism, trouble processing emotions, but he actually mulls over his lack of understanding.

he mulls over tonal changes in conversations so much so that he fixates on certain consonants. he shakes your hand when he says goodbye to you, and he rarely wipes his fingers on his shirt afterwards (he's afraid of cooties).

today i tried to explain to him that i didn't want to talk while we listened to prince in the van; it didn't go over so well.

imagine a twenty-one year old boy with a softspoken voice, urgent and polite at the same time: how come you said that? i should just shut my mouth now? (i try to cut in and say something about how he should never feel like he has to shut his mouth, and to question him about where he learned such a phrase, so pointy and demanding, so rude and unlike him) why'd you say you don't want to talk? should i not talk? why'd you say that?

buddy i just like this song. you want to sing with me? sometimes i'm just like my father...

you don't want to talk? should i just shut my mouth? are you just joking? you're just joking right? you were just joking when you said you didn't want to talk right now?

yes. i was joking. it's ok. let it go. don't worry about it.

don't worry about it?

that's right! don't worry about it. (by this time the song has been over thirty seconds and commercials have started and i'm flipping stations while trying to keep his eye contact, trying to find a station that isn't playing the exact same songs as all the other stations over and over and over i hate the radio so much) don't worry about it, buddy. i was just joking. i'm a joker. who's my buddy?

i am.

you like my afro wig? how come you say to wave to the people in the trucks that look at us?

because they like your afro wig too. wave to them (show them that you can see them and you're aware of life and how maybe they're dicks for staring openly at a two hundred pound slack-jawed sweetheart with stretch marks running ribbons up his shoulders and a black costume wig on his pale white head) and say HI I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY WIG!

at this, he giggles and i can see all of his teeth, perfectly straight.

wiiiiiiiiiiig! say "wig!"

wiiiiig! i grab his hand and squeeze it a little, smiling at him.

you were just joking when you said that? on elka you're such a joker.