by Rob Edwards
“Thank you,” Delton said. “I was scared I’d have to read that damn llama book one more time.”
“You’re welcome,” Rena said. She walked over and put her hand on a chair. “And the chairs are different now.”
Delton saw the swivel chairs had been replaced by chairs with four legs on the floor. “Oh, snap. That shit is gonna rock little dude’s whole world.”
“That’s what we’re afraid of,” Taysha said. “We want to make sure you’re up to it.”
“Are you kidding me? This is great.” Delton lifted the chair, and looked at the legs. “This is going to force him to deal with me.”
“Well, he’ll be here soon,” Rena said. “Were going outside to bring him in.”
They left and Delton took his seat at the table. They returned a few minutes later with Judith in tow, carrying Noah. Just like the day before, she stood him on the ground, spoke softly to him, and turned him around. And again, the boy looked at Delton wide-eyed. She led him by the hand to the chair, sat him down, and knelt next to him. “Okay, Noah. I have to go to work. I’m going to leave you with Delton again. He’s your new friend, so you play nice with him, okay?” She stood, gave Delton a polite nod, and walked out of the room. Delton felt sure she regretted saying the nice things to him yesterday.
Rena’s cheery voice cut the tension. “Have a fun time, Noah.”
Taysha looked at Delton and mouthed, “Good luck.” And both women left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.
Delton looked down at Noah, who stared back at him intently, hands flapping like baby chicken wings. He recalled the only time he felt like he had any sort of connection with the boy yesterday was this moment, when they sat at the table, and he put his head down. Once again, he folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. Noah watched him for several seconds, and then dropped his head down to his arms as well.
After a few minutes of staring at each other Delton spoke softly. “So, little dude, would you like to play with me?”
Noah stared.
A few more minutes went by and Delton slowly sat back. Noah watched his every move. Delton reached way over, grabbed the bucket of Legos, and slid it next to him. He dipped into it with both hands, pulled out a large selection, and, as quietly as he could, set them on the table in front of the boy.
Noah raised up, looked from the pile to Delton and back to the pile a few times. Then he slid out of his chair and tried to spin it. When it didn’t spin at all, he dragged it away from the table and tried again.
“This chair don’t turn like the one did yesterday, Noah,” Delton said. “Let’s play with Legos instead.” He held two pieces in the air and clicked them together to demonstrate.
Noah cried out. He pulled the chair farther away from the table and tried to spin it again, to no avail.
Delton spoke as quietly and as calmly as he could. “It’s all right, we have other toys to play with today.”
Noah pulled the chair around in a circle, but it didn’t turn easily for him like yesterday’s chair. He gave a long sad moaning sound until the point he’d had enough. Then he screamed, knocked the chair over, balled up his hands, and began hitting himself in the face, back and forth with each hand.
“Don’t do that!” Delton jumped from his chair, ran around the table, and grabbed Noah’s hands, which made the boy scream louder.
Noah jerked free and hit himself more.
Not knowing what else to do, Delton covered Noah’s face with his hands to protect the boy from his own fists.
Crying, Noah collapsed to the floor. He lay on his back and banged his head on the carpeted cement.
“A little help here!” Delton yelled at the window.
Rena’s voice came over the speakers in the ceiling. “We’ve discussed this Delton. Noah is having a meltdown. You have to hold him. He can hurt himself if you don’t.”
Dropping to his knees, Delton scooted around to the boy’s head, and slid his hands under to cushion it.
Rena’s voice crackled over the speakers again. “We’ve called his mother, and she’s on her way back.”
Apparently with no more pain involved, Noah had no more interest in banging his head. The boy rolled over, sat up and screamed. Large tears rolled out of his eyes. That was fine. Though his screams were ear-splitting, Delton could deal with it. Screaming was safe. He sat back and said things like, “It’ll be okay,” and “Your mama’ll be here soon,” but nothing soothed the boy. Delton was beginning to fear Noah would scream and cry as long today as he spun the chair yesterday.
Then Noah balled up his fists again, and slammed them into his face.
“Hey, stop that,” Delton said.
Noah did it again, seemingly as hard as he could. His head rocked back with each blow.
Delton reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands again. Noah screamed and tried to jerk them free, but Delton held them firmly this time.
Like an autistic arms race, it became Noah’s turn to increase the stakes. He began kicking violently, catching Delton in the chin. More by surprise than pain, Delton released the boy’s hands, freeing him to again beat on his face. “Oh, no,” Delton said. “This ain’t gonna turn into you against me. And there ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen to you on my watch.” Delton laid the boy down flat on his back and held each hand to the floor, positioning himself over the stomach so the boy couldn’t kick him anymore.
Noah strained against Delton. When he realized he couldn’t move, he screamed so loud, and with so much force that his face turned red. He kicked his feet wildly, but they were behind Delton now and completely harmless.
The door burst open and the guard named Johnson stepped in with his gun drawn. “Get off him now!”
Terrified he was going to be shot, Delton sat back and threw his hands in the air. This freed Noah to begin beating his face again.
Taysha shoved her way through the door and stood in front of the guard. “I said no! And when I say no, you need to listen to me.” She waved her finger in his face. “You are not the authority in this room. I am. Now get the hell out of here.”
Noah was still beating his face, and Delton had his hands in the air, when Judith Higgins rushed into the room. She looked at the guard with his gun drawn. “What the fuck is going on here?!” She rushed to Noah, smacking Delton’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “Get off him.”
Delton jumped up and backed to the wall, leaving Noah to flail his legs, and hit his face with his fists.
Judith sat on the floor at Noah’s head and dragged him up to her. She reached around and grabbed his left hand with her right, and his right with her left and pulled them close, straight jacket style. Then she crossed her legs around his legs, trapping them, making him unable to kick. Noah screamed and tried to beat his head on hers. She was prepared for this and dodged the blow. She waited until he slammed back again, and she clenched his head between her chin and her shoulder. Noah was now completely incapacitated. He screamed, tried to wriggle free, but there was no give.
“Lady, this is messed up,” Delton said.
Judith whispered calmly into Noah’s ear.
Rena walked in followed by Dr. Fitzpatrick. The big man scanned the situation. He looked at Judith holding down a still upset Noah, the armed guard, and Delton stood back in the far corner. For several minutes everyone stood still while Noah’s rage subsided, and his screams devolved into quiet whimpers.
Watching Judith, Delton had a new respect for this woman. It was true she had an edge to her, but that was because she fought a battle every day—a battle she had no hope of winning. He stepped forward, knelt down and spoke quietly to her. “I been sayin’ this too much lately, but I’m sorry. I’ve never seen anything like that, ever.”
Judith rubbed her cheek against Noah’s head. “You know, this is the only time I really get to hold him.”
Delton saw another side to her for the first time. He realized that all she wanted to do was be a mother. She rocked her so
n slowly back and forth, and whispered in his ear. Another five minutes and the boy was quiet. The horrible angst that had completely consumed him, had gone.
Dr. Fitzpatrick stepped forward. “I thank you for coming back in, Miss Higgins. I’m sure we can take it from here.”
“Not today you can’t,” Judith said.
“Pardon?”
“I’m not leaving him here today.” She released her son and he sat upright, wobbling a bit. His face was puffy from the crying and red from the beating. Getting her legs under her she stood and lifted him into her arms.
“Miss Higgins, your son will be perfectly….”
“Look around you, Doctor.” Judith cut him off. “Does anything look perfect to you? How many other rooms have the armed guards had to enter? Look at my son.” She turned Noah around so the doctor could see. “I’m sure he will be bruised. Today your little experiment is over.” She walked toward the door, stopped, and turned back. “I have to think long and hard on whether he is ever coming back again.” She walked out, leaving a room full of stunned observers.
Officer Johnson turned to Delton. “With no kid, you have no reason to be here. Get to the bus and we’ll take you back.”
Excerpts from the transcript of the GINfo (Global Information Network) interview between Brooke Winthrop and Judith Higgins.
Brooke: Explain a meltdown.
Judith: Oh…you saw the video too?
Brooke: Yes, and I have to be honest. When I see someone’s kid in the mall behaving like that, and unloading with earsplitting screams, I look at the parents and say to myself ‘why aren’t you doing something about your kid.’ But from what I’m learning, there’s not much a parent of an autistic child can do in this situation. So please explain. What’s the difference between a meltdown and a tantrum? Why doesn’t someone just give an autistic child a timeout when they’re acting so badly?
Judith: Okay well, they’re completely different. An autistic person doesn’t understand how to process their emotions, and quite often, they can’t process outside stimuli either. Things like loud noises, or…they don’t even have to be that loud actually. Large crowds, lots of flashing lights, and lots of movement…those kinds of things, can take an autistic child over the edge. It’s like taking a bottle of soda and shaking and shaking it. All that pressure builds up and there’s no rational way to release it. And just like a plastic bottle can’t keep the top from blowing off, an autistic child can’t keep from blowing either. It’s not like a tantrum, where they’re whining because they didn’t get what they want. An autistic child has no control over the explosion. And they lose the control until all the pressure is released. And if you’re a parent, and the top has blown off the soda bottle, you can’t hold your hand over it and try to keep it in. All you can do is hold it until it’s done spilling over, and try to minimize the damage to everything else. An autistic child is the same way, except they will often hurt themselves, so you have to hold them until they’re done.
Brooke: I had no idea. That must be terribly hard on the parent.
Judith: Well…yeah, it is. But think about it. It’s hard enough to deal with at this age, but an autistic child grows. And boys are autistic at a higher percentage than girls, so when they get older, they need to be able to learn coping skills somehow, or they’ll not only hurt themselves, they can really injure someone who is just trying to help them out. That’s my big fear with Noah. What am I going to do in seven, eight years, when he’ll be stronger than I am?
Chapter Eighteen
Judith strapped Noah into his car seat. After such a long, sustained meltdown, he was little more than a rag doll, and she was able to get him into the car with no fuss. She quickly slid into her seat, started the car, and drove away—wanting to get out of there before anybody ran after her and tried to talk her into having Noah stay.
Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her phone, and tried to hit her sister’s number. Her hands were trembling so much, she missed the first time, calling her dad’s retirement home instead. “Shit.” She tapped off the call and had better luck the next time.
“What’s up?” Darlene said when she answered.
“Dar, I need your help. By any chance can you hang with Noah today?”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah. Uh oh. I can’t even freaking talk about it right now.”
“I’m there. I just gotta throw some clothes on and I’ll meet you at your place.”
“Thank you, so much.”
“No prob...”
Judith tapped off the call and tossed the phone into the seat next to her. She checked Noah in the rearview mirror. His eyes were already shut, and he was sleeping soundly.
True to her word, Darlene was waiting when she pulled into the driveway. Opening the door she waved to her sister. “Thank you, Sis. It was a major cluster there today.”
Darlene came down and opened Noah’s door. “Hey, come on, champ,” She said, shaking his shoulder. His eyes opened and his head lifted slightly and then fell back asleep. “Boy. He is out of it.” She unbuckled him from his seat and stepped back to let Judith in to pick him up.
Judith lifted him out of the car. “He’s had a hell of a morning.”
Darlene closed the car door for her. “Already?”
Trying to get hold of the correct key while carrying Noah was a struggle. Thankfully Darlene grabbed her keys and unlocked the door. “You have to tell me what happened.”
Judith lay Noah down on the sofa and he crumpled into the fetal position. She brushed her hand through her hair. “I had dropped Noah off, and it looked like everything was going to be cool like yesterday. I was hoping Delton dumbass could stay awake the whole day, but at least Noah was fine with everything. You know? Anyway, I’m out of the parking lot, like five minutes and my phone starts ringing. Noah is in full meltdown. So I turn around. And when I get back there, there’s this guard in the room holding a gun on Delton. Delton’s got his hands up, but he’s sitting on Noah on the floor, and Noah’s beating the shit out of his face.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Darlene said. She leaned down and pushed Noah’s hair back. “Poor little guy.”
“Thank you so much, Dar.” Judith looked at her watch and headed to the door. “I’m so late for work. Bernie’s going to kill me.” Before closing the door she turned back to her sister. “Please don’t let him sleep too long or he won’t sleep tonight.”
“Got it,” Darlene said.
Scurrying into her cubicle, she flicked her computer on first before taking off her jacket and sitting in her chair. Then she sat down and breathed deeply while her computer booted up.
“Looks like you’ve had a day already,”
Looking up, Judith saw Simon Bensinger, her cubicle neighbor, leaning over the wall. Simon was a loving husband, remarkable father, and one of the kindest work associates she knew. “Morning, Simon. Yes. It’s been a little bit horrible.” She nodded toward Bernie’s office. “Any word from him?”
Simon shook his head. “Nah. But you haven’t logged in yet.”
“True.” Just then her log-in screen came up. She typed in her username and password and hit return. “Here we go.”
Simon chuckled. “Best of luck.” He sat back down, disappearing behind the cubicle wall.
Thirty seconds later, she could have used him as an egg timer, Bernie appeared in her cubicle entryway, belly hanging over his belt. He still hadn’t cut down on the three custard-filled long johns for breakfast. “Nice of you to join us, Higgins.”
“Sorry, Bernie,” She didn’t look up at him. “It got crazy with Noah and the Marmont Project this morning. I had to take him back home and have my sister come over to take care of him.” She opened up her email and scanned it for any high priority alerts.
“Again with the kid,” Bernie stepped into her cubicle. “Look, Judith…”
“Bernie, before you get started,” Judith spun around in her chair to face him. “This morning was off the grid out there
. It’s not the type of thing that will ever be repeated.”
“Well, what did you expect? You put the kid in an ‘off the grid’ situation,” He made air quotes to be a bigger dick. “And ‘off the grid’ types of things are gonna happen.”
“Hey, Bernie, leave her alone, will ya?” Simon Bensinger was now in her cubicle entryway.
“Mind your own, Simon. This doesn’t concern you.”
“It does concern me,” Simon said. “She’s a member of my team.”
Bernie put his thumb to his chest, like an ape. “I run the team, and I’m saying let me handle this.”
“Why don’t we handle it?” Shelly Walker slid past Simon into the cubicle, followed by Evelyn Reese, two older ladies on the analyst team. Judith’s cubicle was full now. “We are the team.”
Bernie put his hands out. “What. You’re all going to stick your neck out for one of your team members who isn’t pulling her own weight?”
“When she struggles, we pick up the slack,” Shelly said. “We got this.”
“Why would you do that?” Bernie asked.
“Because, it takes a village, Bernie,” Simon said. “Have you never heard that?”
The last thing Judith wanted to do was lose it at work, but after the morning she’d had, Simon’s statement flipped a switch—the one that caused her to burst into tears. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands.
“Oh, geez,” Bernie said. “Here we go.”
Evelyn’s sweet voice spoke next. “Hush, Bernie. You’ve done enough already.” Judith felt Evelyn’s hand rub her back. “I’m sorry, honey. You cry if you need to.”
“My God.” Bernie said. “You people deserve each other. Higgins, if you could grace us with some effort at some point today, I would be ever so grateful.” She heard him walk out.
A moment later she heard Simon’s voice whisper, “What a dick.” Then he spoke louder. “Let me know if you need any help with anything, Judith.”