Wednesday, April 20, 2011

It was a Sunday.....

Let's talk about a Prick. I might get serious for a minute......

"Perhaps certain arcane systems of logic, mathematics, music, and stories - particularly remote and fantastic ones - have been passed down from phenotype to phenotype, in parallel with the DNA that helped shape minds which would know exactly what to do with these strange and elegant creations."

My son has Asperger's Syndrome. For those of you that won't click on the link, the easiest and oversimplified way to explain Asperger's, which is an Autism Spectrum Disorder (or ASD), is a very high functioning Autism.
Why is this important? Well, it will help explain some things later. He often says, "Living in this world is like living behind tempered glass that has spider web cracks or that glass you find in bathrooms. The people can't see me but the light still comes in without hindrance. I can see out but everything is distorted. I want to talk to you. I want to touch you. I just can't get beyond the glass and you can't see me as I am. We are always divided by an invisible barrier. If I couldn't see the world through the glass, maybe it wouldn't bother me." I asked him once, when he was younger, if it were possible would he want to be cured. He responded, "I'm not sick." Pretty simple. The truth is, who would he be without the A.S? We are not simply our abilities or our views or our morals. We are all of those things and so much more. A.S is a part of who he is, but it does not, singularly, define him.

That is a portion of his back story.

I felt it necessary to explain before I tell you about 'The Prick'....

I haven't left my house in a couple months. I'm
almost serious. I've been to the store, met a friend for lunch and the day-to-day living outings, I just haven't been out-out. An old friend got in touch with and needed a date for a charity, black and white ball. I jumped at the chance to get out for an entire 24 hours. Plus, it meant I had a reason to wear make-up and I'm fairly certain mascara has an expiration date. The ball was in another state but close enough to leave my house at 5:00 pm to arrive by 7:00 pm. I went, I got intoxicated on cheap free wine. Woke up the next morning with a wicked wine hangover. I ate a piece of bread with some peanut butter and played on the Internet via Blackberry Crackberry until it was time to go home. I was about ten miles (I'm lazy so, I'm not converting that to km) from home when I got a frantic phone call.

"Mom!!!! I cussed. I cussed a lot and I'm sorry. He's so much bigger than me and he's screaming right in Nana's face. GET HERE RIGHT NOW!!! You can't be where you are, you have to be here, not there." It was my son. His words came rushing out so fast I could barely put them together. With one exception, GET. HERE. NOW! I begged him to slow down, take a breath and explain. I could hear him inhale and exhale a few times. He muttered under his breath, "I have to watch her. He might hurt her. He is mean. He is mean." When he calmed down enough to speak, in a more coherent manner, he explained what had happened and I saw red.

"I was walking back from the store because I wanted a Pepsi and you never buy pop anymore. If we had pop in the house, this would not have happened." He stated. Always putting the blame on something.

"I know. Pop is bad for us, too much sugar. So, you were walking home from the store????" I prodded, hoping he would continue with details and not a lashing on why I suck for not having soda pop in the house.

"Yeah. That's what I said. I was walking back from the store. I was on 'our road'. I called Nana to ask if she would pick me up because the walk was too long and I was bored. She said no because I was only 2 blocks away. That shouldn't matter, I already walked 17 blocks...."

*sigh* "Honey....."


"I need you to tell me what happened. Try to leave out the unnecessary details."

"What? All details are necessary unless they are stupid. I'm telling you what happened. Don't you want to know? You said to tell you what happened."

"Okay. Tell me what happened after you called Nana and she said no."

"I put my headphones in and started listening to Nirvana. I saw this guy running right at me. He pushed me into the bushes," Here's where my heart started racing and my breathing began to get rapid. Panic. It was coming. Fear. The words 'OH GOD' were on a silent loop in my mind. Thankfully, he can't pick up on those signs. I believe it was at this point, my hand flew up to the base of my neck and remained there until he finished the story. He continued, "and held me there. He said, 'Are you Brendan? He didn't even know I was me. Not for sure, or he wouldn't have asked. He could have been attacking the wrong kid. He grabbed my shoulder with his right hand and he put his left elbow on my other shoulder with his forearm across my chest and neck. His left hand gripped my t-shirt. I'm wearing my favorite shirt. The Nirvana shirt you got me at the mall but I can only wear it to school with electrical tape on the back because it says the word, 'Whore' on the back. He started pushing and pulling me around saying something about egging his house. I told him, 'Let go of me or I will call the cops!' He said,'A lot of good it will do to call them when you're in the hospital!' I asked, 'Why would I be in the hospital?' He said, 'Because I'm going to put you there, you're psycho!' I'm not psycho, I'm autistic. I got away and started running for the house. If he was going to try to fight me, I needed something to hit him with. He is far too big for a fair fight. He picked up a big rock and yelled, 'That"s it! You're dead!!' and started chasing after me. That's when I yelled FUCK YOU. When I got home I grabbed the first thing I could find, it was the rake. Where is my bat? I couldn't find it anywhere?

"I don't know where your bat is, Bren. Please tell me you didn't hit anyone with a rake. And who is this man? He didn't hit you with the rock, did he? Are you hurt? I'll be there in less than 5 minutes. You said he was screaming at Nana, he hasn't hurt her has he?"

"No. I didn't, I dropped it. No. I don't think so. Okay and not yet."

".... What?"

"I answered your questions. Maybe you should try the deep breathing. I'll wait 17 seconds."

"Oh.... No, I'm okay. So you grabbed the rake, what happened next?"

"Nana came running out behind me. I was screaming and cussing. Like when an animal is coming towards you, you're supposed to make yourself threatening and loud. I did that. Nana sent me back to the house. I'm in the driveway now talking to you on the phone. He's still yelling at Nana in the street. She is yelling back. I think she is cussing too."

"I'm almost there now. Stay home. No matter what. You understand what I am saying, right? No. Matter. What. Do not leave the house."

"I got it. No matter what."

We hung up the phone and my friend turned onto my street. About a block from my house, two men and one woman were standing in the middle of the street. I had my friend stop the car and I jumped out.

Me: "Which one of you put your hands on my son?"

The Prick pointed and came walking toward me: "Are you the mother?"

Me: "Yes. Are you the asshole that put your hands on my son? He's 14 years old and autistic and your what, 40?"

The Prick: "You're lucky he's not in the hospital."

Me: "No. You're lucky he's not in the hospital. What is wrong with you?"

The Prick: "Why is he walking the streets? You're psycho kid needs to be put away. He shouldn't be allowed in public school."

Me: "Are you serious? You're an ignorant prick! He's autistic not psychotic. You might be..."

This is where he launched into a story about his house being egged and if my son didn't do it, he knew who did. I tried to explain that my son was out of town for almost the entire Spring Break and could not have egged his house. He was rarely unsupervised. And that I didn't give two shits that his house was egged, I wanted to know why he felt he had the right to assault my son. He just kept saying that he didn't care and we needed to resolve this egging thing.

The Prick: "I want to know what you are going to do to resolve this?"

Me: "I'll tell you what I am going to do. I'm going to call the police and you are going to jail."

I called the police and realized I had no idea who this man was so, I asked him.

Me: "Hey, Prick! What is your name?"

I told the dispatch operator who asked me to get away from him because he was still yelling and she couldn't hear me. I waited at the house for the officer to show up. My mom said The Prick told her he was going to put my son in the hospital and he also told the neighbor (who saw the whole thing) the same thing.

The officer came, collected our statements and went to The Prick's house. Then the officer returned about an hour later. He told us The Prick admitted everything and was remorseful about the assault so he didn't take him to jail right then and there. He stated he was off and would be beginning a 2 week vacation the following day but would be sending the report to the prosecuting attorney's office. The officer said The Prick is, at the very least, looking at assault 4 and harassment. He explained to The Prick to stay away from my son and myself or he would be looking at tampering with a witness. He left.

I went to the courthouse the following day to get a temporary anti-harassment order. Today, I go to court to get a permanent order of protection. The next time, if there is one, he will go to jail, remorseful or not. While I am at the courthouse I will do my best not to channel Colonel Nathan R. Jessep.

My son has told me that The Prick is the father of a kid at school. His kid told Bren his dad is unemployed and plays WoW all day while his wife has dates and steals their money while they sleep. Which lead me to have to explain to my son what a hooker is..... It was uncomfortable for everybody.

Right then. I'm done talking.

Here's a song from my (anti)writer's block playlist.

No comments:

Post a Comment