Authors: Karen Kingsbury
Without looking at her, without giving any sign that anything unusual was about to take place, Holden moved his arm closer to hers and very lightly he took hold of her fingers. Tracy could feel herself trembling, but she prayed with everything in her that Holden couldn’t feel it. She closed her eyes and let the tears come —hot, cleansing tears that had built up in her heart season after season while she waited for this single moment.
The chance to hold hands with her son again.
H
OLDEN WAS OPENING A WHOLE NEW WORLD TO
E
LLA
. A
S THEY
headed into November, she started getting to school early enough to meet Holden where the bus dropped him off. Then she’d walk with him across campus to the wing where the special-needs kids had classes. After her fifth-period math class, she’d catch up with him again and they’d walk to rehearsal together.
It was the first Tuesday in November, and Ella reached the bus stop earlier than usual. From her spot, she watched Jake and his new girlfriend pull up in his Mustang and walk into school together.
LaShante kept her up to date on the kids in her former group. Apparently Jake’s new girl had a bad reputation. No surprise there. Jake liked girls who couldn’t say no. Apparently he’d told the guys on the football team that he’d broken up with Ella because she was boring. Whatever. She didn’t care what he told people, as long as she was rid of him.
A group of cheerleaders headed inside from the far parking lot, their laughter carrying across the campus. Ella squinted in their direction. She remembered what that felt like, being part of that group. Walking around school like they owned the place, certain beyond any doubt that every guy on campus thought they were hot, and every girl wanted to be them.
LaShante was pulling away from them now too. She’d come by the drama room a couple times and she’d even heard Holden sing once. “He’s so cute,” she said. “I wonder if he’ll ever be really, you know … normal. Like us.”
Ella wasn’t bothered by her friend’s question. “Maybe there’s no such thing as normal.”
It was true. Not just where the kids at Fulton were concerned but with her own family. Her dad was staying away even more than usual. Her brothers practically lived at the house across the street, and her mother was a blur of activity—tanning and training and trips to the salon. Like everything was normal and they were a perfectly happy family.
Yeah, the longer she hung out with Holden the more normal he seemed.
She turned toward the sound of the bus and watched as it came to a stop and the door opened. Holden was always the first one off, and then he’d stand almost at attention while the other kids made their way down the steps. As soon as the first kid passed by him, he folded his hands near his chin and began flapping his arms.
The action didn’t bother Ella the way it used to, but she wanted to know what he was thinking, why he did it. She had her theories. Maybe he was trying to hide his face a little from the other kids. Or maybe it was his way of saying hi. She wasn’t sure, but she had decided this much: the action was intentional. It had to be, because Holden always flapped at the same times.
When he got off the bus, and when they walked across campus—if they passed a group of kids. Something about the other students at Fulton made Holden act like that, and one day … one day Ella would figure out why. She had continued her research on autism enough to know that sometimes the therapy and dietary changes and mainstreaming resulted in a change. Sometimes something unlocked them. Yes, they would still have differences —sometimes in their mannerisms or in the way they handled social situations. But for those who emerged from the prison of autism, the change was miraculous.
The change she hoped for Holden.
He looked up and saw her—clearly saw her. Again, he would never have done that before. As he walked up she had to remind herself that he had autism. He wore jeans and a blue shirt, and his eyes connected with hers. What if he hadn’t become autistic? Ella had thought about the possibility a lot. Their families would still be friends, and maybe they would still go to church. Her parents might have the most amazing marriage and she and Holden… Who could say? She and Holden might have found a love as special as the friendship they shared when they were kids.
All if Holden hadn’t become autistic.
Their eyes held all the way until he reached her, but then he looked away, up at the puffy white clouds marking the early winter sky. “Hi, Holden.” She always said that, even though he never answered. He would sing to her pretty easily now, sometimes even when they were walking together. The progress in Holden was remarkable by anyone’s understanding.
But he still hadn’t talked to her.
They were halfway to Holden’s special wing when they walked past the outdoor cafeteria. Ella heard shouting and saw a few kids run toward the sound. Someone was in trouble. “Come on.” She took a turn they didn’t usually take so she could see—at least from a distance—what was happening. Once the building wasn’t in the way, she stopped and beside her, Holden did the same thing.
“Jesus loves me, this I know.” Holden sang softly as his smile faded. “For the Bible tells me so …”
She wanted to tell him to keep his voice down. This wasn’t the time to sing. But she could hardly do that when she was the one who had broken his regular order of things. And people with autism needed their routines. She shaded her eyes and stared at a group of kids clustered near one of the lunch tables. A voice yelled above the others, and Ella recognized the sound.
It was Jake.
Suddenly she had the worst feeling that maybe Jake was picking on someone again. Maybe Michael Schwartz. She hadn’t seen the guy in several weeks. Her fascination with Holden had made her almost forget any other kids at school. She wanted to move closer, but Holden wouldn’t want to go anywhere near the confrontation.
She decided on the safe route. “Let’s go.” She turned back and again Holden stayed at her side. “Time to get to class.”
“Tale as old as time …” He sang the words, and then he began to hum the tune, clearly more relaxed than he’d been a minute ago. He stopped and pulled his cards from his backpack. He didn’t fiddle with them the way he used to, but he still relied on them. Maybe they even made him feel like he was talking. Ella wasn’t sure, but she enjoyed waiting for him to pull out just the right card.
He didn’t hold onto them anymore, either. He found the card he was looking for and handed it to her. The card showed two unhappy people. Below the drawings were written the words “Is there a problem?”
His perception was perfect. “Yes.” She kept her tone calm, so he wouldn’t worry. “That was back there. We won’t worry about it, though, okay?”
“Okay.” Holden looked at her and then back at his deck of cards.
“What?” Ella laughed. She still hadn’t touched Holden, but now she touched his shoulder without thinking. Her touch was light, but she hesitated in case he reacted. He didn’t, so she kept her hand there. “You talked to me, Holden. Do you know that?
A fresh smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he put the cards in his backpack and zipped the top. Then he looked at her again. “Okay.”
She wanted to march Holden around to all the teachers and therapists who doubted that for Holden change was possible. But
that wouldn’t be good for him, so instead she walked with him to his classroom. When Holden was safely into his routine—setting his backpack with the others and finding his seat, Ella walked up to the teacher. “He talked to me.” She flashed a confident smile. She’d had a few discussions with Holden’s main teacher before. The woman was kind, but she seemed stifled by her belief that people on the autism spectrum couldn’t experience much change.
Ella doubted she believed in miracles.
Now his teacher’s brow raised a little. “He talked to you?” Doubt dripped off every word.
“Yes. I told him we were going to class, and he told me, ‘Okay.’ “Ella didn’t have time to stay here and discuss the issue. She didn’t care if the teacher believed her. She waved as she headed for the door. “Just wanted you to know.”
Back outside, Ella remembered the trouble, as Holden called it. She hurried back to the place near the outdoor cafeteria, but there were only a few kids left—Jake and his buddies and… yes, it was Michael Schwartz. Whatever had happened, the first bell must’ve broken it up. She ran closer until the situation became clear and she stopped cold. What she saw made her furious.
There must’ve been a fight, because one of the football players was nursing a black eye. Maybe the original trouble hadn’t been between the player and Michael. Maybe he’d just happened by … Ella wasn’t sure. The contents of Michael’s backpack —dozens of loose-leaf pieces of paper, notebooks, pencils, coins —were scattered on the damp ground. Each time he bent down to pick something up, Jake kicked him. Then Jake and the jerks he hung out with would laugh like this was the funniest thing they’d ever witnessed.
“Don’t come by in the middle of a fight and think we won’t see you,” Jake said. “You freak. This is our part of the school.”
“Yeah,” Sam laughed and pointed toward the special-ed wing. “You belong over there with the others.”
That was it. Ella couldn’t take another minute. “Hey!” She stormed the remaining ten yards that separated her from the guys. “Go to class, Jake … Sam. Ryan.”
“What?” He spun around and faced her. For a few seconds he looked like he might come after her too. Then he relaxed his posture and looked at his buddies, an angry chuckle leaking from inside him. His eyes burned with fury. He let loose a string of cuss words aimed right at her, but she didn’t care.
“You make me sick,” she hissed at him. Then she moved right past him to Michael. Without being asked she knelt down and started picking up pieces of paper and pencils. “Are you okay?”
Michael stood, his face pale. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m helping.” She stood too. From behind her, she could feel Jake and his guys moving in closer, laughing at them.
“Isn’t that sweet.” Jake wouldn’t let up. “A couple of girlfriends helping each other.”
“I said …” Ella faced him, “get lost. Leave him alone!”
“Ella …” Michael sounded like he might be on the verge of losing it. “I’m fine. Go on.”
Before Jake could say another word, a teacher must’ve caught the eyes of one of his buddies, because in a rush they jogged off, still laughing. And that quickly, Michael and Ella were the only two left.
She lowered herself to her knees again and resumed the task of helping him collect his things. But Michael only stood there, staring at her. After she’d picked up a few things, she stopped and looked at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.” He tossed his hands in the direction Jake and his guys had run off toward. “Are you kidding me, Ella? You just rescued me in front of the worst kids at school.” He paced a few steps away, and then back again. “They’ll never let me live that down.”
“What they did …” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be. “It was wrong, Michael. You can’t let people walk over you.”
“I can do what I want.” He wiped the dirt off his shirt —dirt Jake had left there with his final kick. “I survive around those guys. I keep out of their way and everything’s fine.”
“What about today?” Ella’s voice rang with indignation. How dare Jake convince a guy like Michael that it was okay to be bullied? “Why didn’t you stay out of their way today?”
“Because.” Michael snagged the items from her hands and shoved them into his backpack. He dropped to the ground and collected the rest of his things in a few quick grabs. Many of them looked a little wet and dirty, but at least he could get to class now.
“Because why?”
“Just because.” He slung his backpack over one shoulder. “The guy they were fighting is in orchestra with me. The mighty Eagles have decided everyone in that class is gay or a freak. I had to at least help.”
Ella crossed her arms in front of herself and hung her head. Really? Was Jake that cold hearted that he would start a fight with a guy in the orchestra, all to make himself look like some big shot?
“I don’t need help, okay? Not ever again.” He didn’t sound angry, just frightened. Because now Jake and his gang had one more reason to pick on him. “I know you meant well, Ella. But really… just leave me alone.” Michael backed up a few steps, his eyes scanning the yard and the cafeteria. “I’ll be fine.” He held tight to his backpack and started walking again.
Ella watched him go, but before he got more than a couple steps, she called out, “Wait!”
Michael stopped and slowly turned around. He looked like he wanted to cry, but clearly he couldn’t. If Jake and the guys found out, they’d hold it against him. His shoulders dropped a notch. “What?”
“Who punched Jake’s friend?”
“I did.” He hesitated. “I told you, I came here because someone
had to stand up for the orchestra kids and the band geeks. All the rest of us who aren’t Jake Collins, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“Someone needed to have the guy’s back.” He hesitated, and after a few seconds he started walking again. “See you, Ella.”
“Bye.” She uttered the word too softly for him to hear. The whole situation was horrible. She wanted to walk straight to the office and report what had happened, get Jake and his group suspended, or better yet—expelled. But Michael was right. If she helped him anymore—especially if she reported what happened —her actions would only make life that much harder for him.
The old her would’ve felt badly about the trouble Michael was in, but she wouldn’t have dreamed of saying anything. Now, as she headed for English Lit, she changed her mind. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t at least go to the office and make some kind of report. At the front of the school she walked into the main office and asked to speak to a principal. Fulton was so big they had three assistants.
One of them walked out. “Hello, Miss Reynolds.” He smiled, relaxed and happy, clearly ignorant to the ways people were treated on his campus every day.
“I have something to report.” She spent the next five minutes giving exact details of what happened to Michael and the other guy from orchestra. Ella was careful not to spare a detail. “But… if those guys find out I said something, they’ll kill Michael. I just wanted you to know.”