Chapter 2: Warmth

"Look at her, poor mother."

"What's wrong with that baby?"

"He's creeping me out. Honey, let's go quickly."

"Excuse me, nurse? Is it safe to be so close to him? We don't want our dear Allery catching whatever he has."

Oblivious to the whispers surrounding her, Vivian merrily bounces the newborn in her arms. Waiting to see the pediatrician in a much too bright hallway, everyone hovers away from them. She could not care less. As long as little Noe is safe, she vows to be happy.

Noe's dead eyes stare at the plastered ceiling; much too knowing, much too uncaring. His disposition lies in stark contrast to the bubbly, giggling, and beaming babies they are surrounded by. It is as if only he can see the darkness of the world they have entered.

Six months later, Vivian returns with sunken eyes and a carved shadow where her smile used to play. Thrashing and wailing, Noe violently opposes her hands that hold him.

"Noe," she calls as she mechanically brushes her fingers through his verdant hair. It has grown past shoulder-length. Her palms return red; scalded by the heat he emits.

"Seriously, what's wrong with him?"

"They said ASD."

"Autism."

This time, the whispers grate away at Vivian's sanity.

There is something else beyond the doctor's diagnosis; she is sure of it. Noe's crying has gone on for weeks. Vivian's health has depleted day by day.

"Noe," attempting once more to reach her baby. Vivian receives no response.

This cycle of Noe's passiveness towards her and visiting pediatricians continues until his first birthday, bleeds into his third; his seventh birthday still sees no specialist able to help ease his conduct.

"We've tried a combination of behavioral therapy and Risperidone, neither of which have had a significant effect. As for his abnormally high body temperature, we haven't found an answer to that yet. With Noe's seventh birthday coming up, we strongly suggest enrolling him in elementary school before it's too late. This may be the best treatment for him now."

Vivian slumps her shoulders as terror floods her eyes. She locks her gaze on Noe who is older but still as nonchalant.

"If that's what the doctor orders," she affirms, "I'll get him enrolled."

Walking out of pediatrics for the last time, Vivian knows she can no longer bring him back here - they have seen too much.

"We'll be fine on our own," she clutches Noe's burning hand.

"My mom told me you're abdormal," Allery informs Noe on their second day of school.

"Isn't it abnormal?" a little girl asks from a table over.

"Shut up!" Allery's responds to her ingenuity.

Across his alphabet sheet, Noe continues to scribble lines that strangely resemble a man's silhouette.

"You're abdormal," Allery repeats to try and get Noe's attention. He fails.

"Stop that!" he shouts as he jerks Noe's pencil out of his hands. Instantaneously, "Ow!" he drops it in pain. Allery has been burned. "I'm going to tell my mom about this!"

Noe picks up his pencil and reconvenes with his drawing.

During recess, only his figure can be seen through the windows - back curled over a desk, obsessing over a paradigm of longing he cannot quite perfect.

Allery's remarks flow past elementary and reach middle school. Metamorphosing, they become shoves into lockers, snide remarks, and gang harassment.

"Noe. Noe!"

"Noe..."

"Noe, can't you hear us?"

A head taller than everyone around him, his waist-long, pitch-black hair is restrained by a white hairband. Noe walks down the hallway alone. He prefers it to be that way and hopes they understand that, but, possesses no such luck. To him, everyone is a faceless stranger.

Pulling his backpack and sleeves, Allery's posse drags him outside the building and throws him into the backwoods. They poise for attack with their yellow teeth bared and fists up, awaiting their leader who is leisurely walking towards them.

Seeing what is about to happen, a nearby lizard jumps down to aid Noe. The venom glistening along its lips tells Noe that it could easily kill the children harassing him.

He shakes his head but it continues to advance. "Don't," he tells it.

"Are you talking to... a bug?" Allery laughs hysterically and the other faceless people join him. He stomps forward and tries to squash the lizard under his rainboots.

"Don't!" Noe cries.

Allery laughs harder and stomps faster. Anger and worry well up in Noe's chest as the lizard evades death by a hair's breadth each time.

Every thump of Allery's sole causes Noe's eyes to burn and nose to flare.

Suddenly, the lizard yelps as its tail is nipped.

Noe cannot take it any longer.

Concentrating all his might into his fingers, he shoves Allery away and sees that the lizard escapes.

Looking back, Allery is lying on the ground groaning, his shirt burnt black, and fear laced in everyone's face, including Noe's.

"I... I..." avoiding eye contact, Noe tries to speak his feelings. "I'm sorry," he opts and sprints away from the scene.

The next morning, Vivian is called in to speak to Allery's parents and the Principal. All Noe hears through the hour is a string of 'I'm sorries' and 'please understand, there's something wrong with my child'.

He takes out his pencil and notebook and continues a portrait he began the night before; a picture of a man in gray.

"Get up, we're leaving," Vivian instructs Noe and he tails her long, Sherwood skirt down the hall.

"I swear, that child is a devil," Allery's mother whimpers from the doorway.

Looking down at Noe in despair, Vivian whispers, "Look at you, my devil child."

Autism:

A developmental disorder of variable severity that is characterized by difficulty in social interaction and communication, highly focused interests, and by restricted or repetitive patterns of thought and behavior.

(Oxford Dictionaries)

CREATORS' THOUGHTS
SEP1A

Hi, you! This story is a bit different from anything you've probably read. I'm so happy that you chose to start this journey with Noe and I. Let's cry, groan, and laugh together. Don't worry about doing or being anything else. Just be you. Just read on. That said, if you have any comments, corrections or suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comment section. I'm always eager to hear your innermost thoughts and desires.

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