Sophie's Throughway

by Jules Smith

  “There is also the incident involving the Imperio computer system which is what has had Brendon step up to the level of governors report; he shut down the whole system and tried to print several books from the internet,” he finished.

  I looked around the table and one of the governors was shaking her head.

  Janice Armitage took over from there. “Well Brendon has had some positive comments too, one from Miss. Bench from French.” I tried not to snigger at this and put my hand over my mouth. ‘Miss. Bench from French’ the one with the stacked top shelf as it were. No doubt he behaved in that lesson.

  “There’s also one from Design Technology…Mr. Green, who says Brendon was very helpful in bringing all the woodworking tools to the classroom.” I looked over at him wondering if he’d half inched a chisel or something. Brendon had a thing for destructive tools.

  “We are working very closely with Brendon on his social interaction and what is and isn’t appropriate and have set aside a little more time in BASE to have one to one time with him.” She stopped and nodded towards Mr. Fothergill.

  Mr. Fothergill took a deep breath, lifted his notes and tapped them on the table to straighten them. He thanked Mr. Locks and Mrs. Armitage for their input before his analysis.

  “Apart from the very serious incidents that we’ve just heard about there are several other minor events where Brendon is quite rough around school, play fighting with friends, which can be very intimidating for other pupils as well as staff.” He looked pointedly at Brendon. “Because of his pertinent attitude and remarks of a personal nature to staff, including swearing at dinner ladies, he has, in the space of one month, been issued with seven detentions and an isolation. His behaviour has got to change drastically, particularly now we are in GCSE year. Abusing the schools computer system is certainly something that will not be tolerated and due to this, I would like Brendon to remain on governors report for the next six weeks with a review at another scheduled meeting to see if he has met with the sanctions.”

  I looked at the half scribbled notes in my book: Computers, Mr. Fothergill’s tie - hideous, passwords and other starred, blank lines waiting to be filled along with mindless drawings I’d done of circles and triangles. Completely useless and not to my usual note taking standard.

  The governors were then asked to give their thoughts. Mr. Smith introduced himself; the only male governor. He had a kind open face and I liked him before he even opened his mouth. “Well, now we’ve heard some of the incidents I’d like to get an idea of how Brendon feels about them.” He spoke calmly and with a smile as he looked over at Brendon, who raised his eyes to meet his for a split second before going back to the piece of paper he’d been making into some sort of origami concoction. “And of course, from Mr. and Ms. Rhodes on their thoughts,” he continued. Yes. I liked him. I drew a little star next to his name on my notes.

  “If you don’t mind Mr. Smith,” interrupted the lady governor, who’d been shaking her head and looking like a cantankerous shrew, “before that, I’d like to know why this young man here hasn’t even flinched at the mention of all these detentions and from where I’m sitting, has shown very little remorse and not once lifted his head up and given any eye contact!”

  I looked at the lady governor dumbfounded and then at Karl who moved uncomfortably in his seat. Brendon looked briefly around, then at me, and then back to tearing up his paper toy.

  She leant forward, directly opposite Brendon, peering through her gold rimmed, glasses at him. She was around sixty -ish with dark grey hair, wound in a tight bun which fitted neatly into the nape of her neck and sported a crisp, white blouse. Old school. Straight out of a Dickens novel.

  A moment of over stretched silence hit the room as we all, but Brendon, looked on at her.

  “You do understand Aspergers?” Karl directed at her.

  “I’m asking that your child answer, Mr. Rhodes, and please look at me when I’m addressing him,” she stated.

  “Clearly not then, Mrs…?”

  “Johnstone, Mrs. Johnstone. I introduced myself earlier,” she retorted firmly.

  “If you were familiar with the condition Aspergers, Mrs. Johnstone, then you’d be aware that a child with this ‘disability,’ he emphasised, “will not look you directly in the eyes when talking to you as they find it intimidating.”

  “Regardless, its common manners and I’d like his response to the level of detentions he has acquired,” she clipped.

  “Brendon,” I looked over to him and smiled. “Please can you tell this lady how you feel about the amount of detentions you’ve had.”

  He looked at me and then at her, flitting between us as he answered. “I don’t feel anything…I don’t know what you mean…”

  “Do you not see this as quite outrageous to be punished this often?” she asked.

  “Not really, I don’t always think I should have a detention, not for the little things that I don’t think are bad.” He continued shredding his paper more ferociously.

  “And what about the comments you make to teachers? Do you not think they’re inappropriate?”

  “I’m only saying what I think.”

  “Well let me tell you what I think: I think you are a rude and defiant young man who is discrediting this school. You are lucky to be getting an education and good teachers and all you seem to be doing is making a mockery of it all with your outlandish and difficult behaviour.’

  I saw Mr. Fothergill nod in agreement. I wanted to smack him in the face. Before either Karl or I could interject Brendon spoke up for himself.

  “Look, I don’t know what it is you don’t get but I don’t see detentions as bad. Like, they don’t bother me. I get them all the time because no one understands me and even if I try to explain it to teachers they say ‘I’m arguing’ and I just get another one. I mean, do you really think I WANT to be like this?” He actually did look her directly in the eye when he said that. “Do you think I want to have Aspergers? I want to be like every other kid and be able to sit still and get on with work and understand people but I can’t and I can’t change it.”

  My heart melted and I wanted to gather him in my arms and take him far, far away from this nightmare situation. I saw empathy in the eyes of the other two governors but not of the old shrew. She remained staunchly hard faced.

  “Brendon,” said Mr. Smith, “thanks for telling us that and we will take that on board, of course. Now if we can move over to Mr. & Ms. Rhodes and have their thoughts.” He smiled warmly in our direction.

  Karl looked over at me to see if I wanted to go first. I looked down at my notes…hmm…they weren’t much help. “Well,” I started, trying to run events through my mind, “obviously I’m concerned and upset that Brendon has been moved onto this level of report but I am well aware that the computer incident is totally unacceptable and I have spoken to Brendon about this. As for the other incidents, well, I don’t think some of them are relevant like ‘horse play’ with your friends. That’s just normal, teenage boy behaviour, surely?” I looked for agreement in the sea of faces but didn’t find it. “The inappropriate responses, well, that’s part and parcel of the condition but something both Mrs. Armitage and I are dealing with together. I do come in to school regularly to meet up with the SEN team and working as a united front seems to help.” It was weak but I wanted them to understand that I was doing my level best to keep him walking within the walls of acceptance.

  “Well it doesn’t appear to be helping very well Ms. Rhodes,” Mrs. Johnstone replied with a condescending smirk on her face.

  I felt like a berated school child and coloured slightly at her remark.

  “Are you aware of how difficult this is for me?” I asked looking at her and around the room at the others. “You talk to me as though I’m not making any effort. I leave my job early or get in late so that I can get to this school and help out and I try my hardest to support the teachers as well as my son in the education system. I don’t know if you’re aware but I have
two children in this school. My daughter is a model student, certainly not discrediting, and has an exemplary record. She is in all the top sets, is polite, and very popular with both her peers and her teachers. Now, the interesting thing is, both my son and daughter have been parented in exactly the same way. I know how to bring my children up properly with manners and morals and respect for others. The difference is, one of them has Aspergers and PDA.”

  They all looked on waiting for me to continue but I really didn’t know where else to go. Janice looked at me with softness in her eyes. She was the only one that understood the hell I went through at home and also the only one who dealt with Brendon on a day to day basis at school. She understood Aspergers whereas the rest of them clearly didn’t and probably didn’t really care.

  “If I may pick up from there,” Karl interjected, saving me from my predicament. “We are very understanding of the schools policies and the necessity to have this school running smoothly and without severe incidents that will impact on other students and teachers. I work in the corporate field and am well versed on how structure and maintaining good relationships works. What you fail to take into any consideration, is Brendon’s condition. You are sitting here with Brendon’s behavioural plan in front of you, advising how he ‘should’ be treated within a lesson. Have you all read that?” He looked pointedly at Mr. Fothergill and the shrew who remained visibly untouched. The others shuffled through their papers to locate it. “Allow me to remind you,” he continued, raising the plan to read. “You will note on this plan that it clearly states that Brendon will not look directly in your eyes as he will find this intimidating. It states that he will find it difficult to sit still and focus. It states that he will sometimes need to leave a lesson if highly anxious and be allowed to go straight to BASE. It states that he WILL, at times, make inappropriate remarks due to his lack of social skills.” He placed the plan back on the table. “This is a plan that goes out to every member of staff does it not?” He looked at Mr. Fothergill for a response.

  “That’s correct,” he replied.

  “Then as head of this school and management leader I think you should insist that some of your staff actually read it. I would also suggest that you, yourself read it and make sure that as Head of this school you are fully converse in the field of autism, for the sake of all students on the spectrum, and that your staff are better trained in this area. There is no point to this piece of paper,” he pushed it forward on the table, “If nobody but the SEN team are reading it.”

  “We are continually training our staff in this area and our SEN team work very hard with children who have behaviour issues,” Fothergill responded.

  “Well it doesn’t appear to be working very well.” He glanced over at Mrs. Johnstone as he used her words against her. “I have seen repeated remarks on these reports from teachers picking fault with usual autistic traits. Only quite recently, Mr. Fothergill, one of your senior members of staff had to be told to stop any interaction with Brendon as she seemed to find fun in deliberately goading him.”

  Ah, Miss. Raven. What an evil woman. She had constantly picked on Brendon and deliberately got him into trouble by forcing him to react. We had insisted that the school had stopped her interacting with him in any way as he used to come back home crying about her nearly every night and refusing to go to school.

  “I have been summoned to a meeting, without official written notice to myself or Sophie, where you have placed our son on governors report. If I am being brought to a meeting which is about my son’s behaviour, then at the very least, I expect a team of governors and teachers that have an understanding of Aspergers and PDA. Clearly that is not the case and therefore we are not at a level playing field. I will accept that the computer incident is punishable and unacceptable; I will accept that some of the comments from Brendon need addressing and working on, which is an ongoing trial for both the SEN team and Brendon’s Mother. I will not, however, accept this as an official meeting. Please be sure to make that very apparent in the minutes.” He smiled and nodded over at the secretary. “I would suggest that we all stop now and re-schedule when you have got this properly organised and we can discuss the governor’s sanctions then. Please be aware that I will not remain present at any future meetings if anyone on this team has not considered my sons condition appropriately. If I suspect any further discrimination against disability, I will have no hesitation in taking this to the next level.”

  Karl stood up and gently pushed my shoulder to indicate it was time to leave. I raised myself from the chair and told Brendon to put his coat on. I felt very awkward but also relieved.

  “Thank you everyone for your time and I look forward to the first official meeting soon.” He slowly and calmly adjusted his suit jacket and put on his overcoat before walking over to shake Mr. Fothergill’s hand. The Head was ever the politician and calmly took Karl’s hand as he stood but I couldn’t help but notice the stewing resentment behind his eyes.

  We walked out of the room and down the stairs in silence. When we got to the car park I let out the longest sigh of relief and Brendon turned to his Father and said, “Owned Dad, you totally owned them. That was joke.”

  Chapter 10

  Karl had certainly bought us some time if nothing else and his points at the meeting were well justified. I wanted to hug him but instead I squeezed his arm and said, “That was brilliant, thanks so much.”

  “Not really, they need to get their act together. It’s just Fothergill trying to strong arm Brendon out and without just cause he’s going to fail.” He smiled and winked. “Look, there’s no point me driving down south now, not on a Friday afternoon in rush hour, I’ll just be stuck in traffic for hours. Do you want to go out for something to eat?”

  “Err, yeah, sure…Brendon?” I looked to see if he might want to join us. Brendon didn’t really do family social outings, not without causing a ruckus and after the meeting I didn’t think he’d be in a sociable mood.

  “Nah, I’m good,” he shrugged, “I’ve got to go out anyway, I’m going to Luke’s house.”

  “OK, well don’t be late. Enjoy yourself.” I gave him a hug and was glad that he seemed so calm and relaxed. “We’ll go through all the meeting points on Sunday.”

  The school always seemed to hold big meetings or dish out hideous punishments on a Friday night. Just in time for the weekend, they’d send your kid home wound like a Duracell bunny and make your weekend a complete disaster. I was convinced that they did this on purpose as a get back.

  I dropped Brendon at Luke’s house and drove home to fetch Bryony. Karl was already outside in his car making phone calls to work on his mobile. I indicated that I’d be five minutes with a show of fingers and went inside. It was a painful reminder to see his car on the drive. Just something so simple brought forth a rush of emotions that I seemed to have buried somewhere deep within my soul.

  I had already texted Bryony to get ready before I left knowing that she’d want to take forever to get dressed in case she was ‘seen’ by some fit lad from school. Miraculously, she was already donned in her disco pants and thrift shop 70’s shirt when I walked through the door.

  “Don’t you feel weird going out with Dad?”

  “My whole life is weird Bry. I’d be concerned if something normal actually happened.” I rushed upstairs to freshen up and change my skirt to Jeans.

  We made our way in Karl’s beast of a car to the Baltimore Diner on the edge of the canal. We discussed the meeting in parts and also Brendon’s behaviour at home as we devoured insanely large onion rings and burgers drenched in smokey BBQ sauce. The conversation was difficult and over polite and I felt like we were skirting around the houses, avoiding the real issues we had once lived together. Bryony was a welcome distraction and we turned to focus on her and the dramas of life as a teenage girl as we munched our way through our American style cheesecake.

  On the way back home Bryony asked if she could have a sleepover at one of her friends and Karl dropp
ed her off before we arrived back home. There was an awkwardness between us when she’d left the car that was impossible to shift so we masked it with trivial, unnecessary chat. I’d been with this man for years and now I couldn’t even talk to him normally. As soon as we pulled up on the drive, Brendon came running out of the house and opened the passenger door.

  “I’ve made you both some cake!” he exclaimed, “come on, come and eat it, quick!”

  I was so full up after the meal the last thing I wanted was more cake. However, the fact that he’d made something and was so proud meant I was going to eat it and wax lyrical about it regardless.

  “You’ll have to come in and eat some or he’ll be upset…” I looked across at Karl whose engine was still running, ready to leave.

  He turned off the ignition without making eye contact and we made our way into the house.

  “I thought you were at Luke’s? And since when do you make cake?” I laughed as Brendon was clumsily cutting sections of some brown stodge and putting it on delicate, floral plates.

  “Yeah, that’s what me and Luke were doing at his house, making cakes Mommy,” he said in his put on American accent. “And they taste just like buttermilk biscuits,” he drawled on in some southern, hillbilly fashion. “Now go and sit down and I’ll bring them through.” He was remarkably chipper, I noted.

  Karl and I made our way to the lounge and sat down on the sofa awaiting our prize. Karl didn’t remove his coat. I knew he’d want to take off as soon as he’d finished.

  Brendon came through, proudly carrying two plates with a chocolate slab of cake covered in single cream.

  “Eat your heart out Gordon Ramsey!” I said, thinking how sweet and kind he could be. He sat down on the arm of the sofa and waited eagerly for us to start eating it in his usual controlling manner. Karl spooned some into his mouth first and pulled an interesting face. I immediately went to taste mine so I could say how marvellous it was but…it wasn’t. It tasted kind of odd.