Silence in Hiatus
‘’Aqua therapy’’ session with a twist
August 2021
My friend Emily came for lunch Saturday with her son, Jeremy, who just turned nine, and whom I’ve known since he was a pre-verbal one-year-old.
Flashback to …
Jeremy’s second birthday party. I’d expected the age-typical greeting “gimme, gimme” when he spied the present in my hand. Jeremy had shown little reaction to the gift, and none whatsoever to me.
Reflecting …
Six years on, Jeremy has yet to return my “hello.”
I don’t take it personally; Jeremy rarely acknowledges visitors’ presence, even those long familiar. He doesn’t interact with his classmates. He barely speaks to his parents; when he does, he talks like a two-year-old.
Emily doesn’t divulge much about Jeremy’s deficiencies; I hesitate to pry. What I do know is that Jeremy has been diagnosed with learning disabilities in math and reading, as well as language and speech.
As to the “A-word,” I don’t ask, and Emily doesn’t tell. These days, the term “on the spectrum” is blithely bandied about — “Autism” is a convenient catch-all. That said, in Jeremy’s case, I’d wager, along with others who’ve observed him, that the diagnosis is warranted.
Back to Saturday’s lunch …
I set out fixings for make-your-own pizzas. Whether Jeremy would have shown a hands-on interest, I don’t know — Emily assembled it for him.
Emily has long taken the initiative as regards the feeding of her son. She and her husband continually coax Jeremy to eat, often proffering food by the spoonful, much as one does with an infant.
Given that Jeremy rarely eats more than a mouthful without continual prodding, I was pleasantly surprised that he (eventually) ate most of his pizza, in the course of cheese-peeling and crust-tearing.
After lunch, I suggested we continue the visit outdoors. As we rounded the corner to the backyard, Jeremy came alive.
Look: A flamingo!
That was the first full sentence Jeremy uttered in my presence.
It was quickly followed by a barrage of citations of each beach-themed doodad with which my daughter, Lauren, had festooned the yard — the centerpiece of which is her 18-foot diameter swimming pool.
Lauren graciously invited Jeremy to take a dip. Emily tried in vain to persuade him to divest himself of his shirt. Jeremy ignored her and hoisted himself over the ladder and into the pool.
Lauren joined Jeremy and handed him a fluorescent inflatable “watermelon” slice on which to float, whilst they tossed a ball to-and-fro. Lauren tried to make conversation. She asked Jeremy how old he was, and he answered “nine.” When she asked him his birthday, he said, “I don’t know.”
One thing Jeremy did know was that no way was he going to come out of the pool.
Emily cajoled and threatened, in alternation, to no avail. After five minutes of playing see-saw, she bribed Jeremy with the promise of a visit to the local water park — upon which promise Jeremy emerged from the pool.
Then, pointing at the metallic flamingo, he turned to Lauren and told her to be sure to take good care of it until he got back.
Inspired by truth; classified as fiction given license taken as to the punchline.