PERSONAL NARRATIVE
Walking to Nate ’ s , Aaron kept his towel rolled up tight and tucked under his arm ; he felt less conspicuous that way . But it was also inconvenient . He had to keep shifting the towel from one arm to the other . His arms quickly tired , but when he asked his parents to help they refused . “ Carry it around your neck ,” they said . No way . He didn ’ t want the world to see he was walking down the street with his parents carrying a huge blue and white striped beach towel .
Precisely five minutes into the walk , they reached the intersection . It was 6:42 p . m ., and even though rush hour was past and the light was getting dim , Aaron still felt utterly exposed and vulnerable as thousands of eyes watched him from inside their cars . He wedged the towel tighter under his armpit .
The light changed , and they crossed the street . Aaron checked his watch . It was 6:43 p . m . He felt better with the intersection behind them , but Starbucks with more windows and people and eyes waited ahead of them .
They would pass it at approximately 6:49 p . m . He switched the towel from his left armpit to his right so it would be out of sight .
That ’ s when his dad said , “ Let ’ s play a game .”
Aaron groaned inwardly . His dad was always coming up with games to pass the time : The Alphabet Game , The What If Game , The I-Wish-I-Were-Dead Game . That last one wasn ’ t an actual game , but it summed up how Aaron felt about his dad ’ s games . His mom , to his right , said nothing , so Aaron asked , “ What game ?”
“ The Rock Game . If you see a rock or a pebble , pick it up , and whoever has the most rocks at the end wins .”
Now his mom spoke , “ Why are we picking up rocks ?” “ I need them to make a cairn in the aquarium .”
Aaron looked expectantly to his right to catch his mom ’ s reaction . Lately , all Dad talked about was his aquarium and his fish , and Mom was bored with the topic . She rolled her eyes , and her hair fell forward , obscuring her profile . Aaron always wondered at that . His mom didn ’ t like anything touching her face or neck . She never wore necklaces or dangling earrings , and she kept her hair cut short and styled it so it stayed out of her face . But for some reason , when she was irritated , her hair had a way of moving forward and hiding her profile so he couldn ’ t see her eyes .
Just then his dad bounded off the path , picked up a rock and dropped it into one of the pockets of his oversized cargo shorts . The shorts billowed around his pale , hairless legs . Aaron looked back at his mom and realized she had kept moving and was already four-and-a-half yards ahead . He jogged to catch up and slipped his hand into hers .
She looked down at him and smiled . “ Hello , Kitten .” His mom liked to tease him about holding hands . He didn ’ t care . He thought it was funny , and holding hands made him feel safe .
He heard his dad ’ s feet thumping against the pavement as he ran to catch up with them .
“ I just found a rock !” he crowed .
They kept walking . Every few minutes his dad would stop to pick up a rock . Aaron and his mom always kept going . If they got too far ahead , he ’ d call after them , “ Guys , wait up ! I ’ m picking up rocks !” By now , the pockets of his cargo shorts were bulging , and they rattled when he walked .
“ How come I ’ m the only one picking up rocks ? If you all would help we ’ d have ...”
Aaron finished the sentence in his head : 66 percent more rocks .
“… more rocks .”
Aaron wanted to laugh but didn ’ t want his dad to know he was listening . He heard his mom chuckle quietly . She said , “ Joseph , I don ’ t even know what I would do with rocks if I found them . My pockets aren ’ t big enough .”
“ Give them to me . I have plenty of pockets .”
Seven pockets . Aaron had already counted , and now three of them looked like they were ready to tear away at the seam . He imagined the pockets splitting , losing a stream of pebbles down his dad ’ s legs . Like if a golem could pee , and this time he let himself laugh .
They were four and one-half minutes from Starbucks when his dad squatted by a ditch and began scooping out handfuls of gravel that glittered with mica . Aaron felt his mom grip his hand and pull him along .
Autism Parenting Magazine | Issue 71 | 47