hairlessape

[hairlessape]

The Autistic Man

You know, there is this young man that frequents the coffee shops I also frequent. This young man is Autistic, and he comes in and goes as he pleases, during various times of the day. He never speaks to anyone, except to ask for water and/or to himself, quietly. He sometimes grabs magazines and thumbs through them at a table while other he just sits there, but never for too long regardless of his activity.

No one speaks to him either or even attempts to communicate with him, even when he politely nods to some people. He’s not threatening whatsoever (it’s in his eyes) and he comes from (wherever it is he’s coming from) and he goes to (wherever it is he is going to) on foot, as he is always walking.

I have to admit, I was once hesitant to speak to him or even acknowledge him and wondered what type of person was I not want to communicate with him or why. He’s a “regular” and I’ve always spoken to regulars or at least have attempted to communicate with them after seeing them often (not all regulars have become friends though).

Was it fear, I wondered, that kept me from approaching him, I didn’t know or did I? Perhaps, I wouldn’t know how to keep a conversation going (or know how to end it) if I ever started one with him. All I knew, was that, like with ANY person I encounter, this very person may be an Angel or someone that chose the body he currently travels in, to teach people a lesson or to continue guiding them, even with just the sight of them in my field of vision and everyday life activities.

Regardless, I made it a goal to approach the young man the next time I saw him and speak with him and we would go with the Flow, as far as whatever conversation might occur. Because I do believe in going with the Flow, I decided not to push any encounter and that it, like any lesson ready to be learned or taught would present itself at the correct time.

Suffice it to say, that the next time I saw the young man, he was wearing a brand new baseball cap, and of one of my favorite teams, the Pittsburgh Pirates (whom I secretly admire for being the first MLB team to field a game with only players of color, Black and Latinos, on September 1st, 1971). He happened to already be sitting at a table as I ordered my drink. Once I placed my order, I dipped over to him and when he looked up at me, I said, “Nice hat”, even though I knew I should have said baseball cap.

He smiled shyly and said, “Thanks” and then went back to looking down at his magazine. Thus my conversation was short, but I was content with at least speaking to him. As per his usual routine, he left not less than ten minutes later, and I didn’t see him the rest of my time at the coffee shop that day.

A few days later though, and in one of the few recent very cold evenings we’ve had here in Racine, I did see him again.

It was a past ten in the p.m. and I had just gotten a little upset, having discovered a tire I had just paid to get fixed was almost flat. It had been going flat every few days during the cold weather and finally had taken it in to get fixed which according to the mechanic was a simple fix having to do with the stem valve. Obviously, whatever he/they had done, had not worked, I would have to trek it to the nearest air station which was a ways off.

As I was driving, I noticed how they were no vehicles really driving anywhere around me or in front of me. I remembered how cold it was and thought that it was logical no one was really out and about since it was late and extremely cold with gusting winds that were spraying the horizon with the snow from the ground. Yet with all this cold weather and gusting snowy wind, I see at a distance a figure walking toward me as I drive home. I thought it was simply a sign, since the gusting winds were blinding me to a certain distance, but no … it was a man walking in that cold air, hands in the pockets of a too unkind for this type of weather coat. He was kind of hunched over as he walked, no doubt trying to cover himself from the biting cold. As my car approached him, and he became more visible, I saw that Yellow P on the familiar baseball cap and knew it was the young man. It was then that, the soul fights with the mind and I contemplated, on stopping and picking him up. But, my tire is almost flat, and who knows where he lives, perhaps far away, if we end up stuck somewhere, that will do us both no good. Maybe he doesn’t want a ride? So I kept going and figured, I could go back and find him once I put air in my tire, and on I went.

After struggling to put air into my tire with a slightly malfunctioning and shivering frozen air station hose, it became moot to look for the young man, since it was a full on storm that had suddenly revealed itself. I told myself he’d be alright and blessed him on the rest of his journey with extreme guilt.

I did pray for his safe passage home again when I got home and went to bed soon after only to awaken to that guilty feeling which I had hoped would would have been left in my Dreams.

I thought, I hope the young man is home, but also thought of what I should have done, and that is simply had the young man ride with me to the air station before taking him home. Next time, I will give him a ride no matter what. But still, I hoped he was alright.

Later that afternoon, I finally made my way to my usual hangout and even though I should be use to it (living in WI my entire life), I marveled at the amount of sunshine and light as I drove to the coffee shop, as opposed to the winter storm I had witnessed the night before.

Today was a nice day, I thought and it got even nicer, when upon sitting down to my table, I see the young man, walking directly toward me to sit right next to me at a different table. He didn’t acknowledge me as he sat with a magazine, but I was happy to see him and know that he was okay, that he had made it last night through that cutting cold wind.

I told him again, that I liked his hat, but this time added, “Where did you buy that baseball cap?”

“At the mall”, he answered and I smiled at him.

“Well, it’s really cool,” I told him and he nodded slightly and we sat there side by side for a moment before he got up and left.

I have yet to see him again since, but I look forward to seeing him again and knowing he’s alright.

I wrote this because, sometimes I wonder, why life is unfair, or that it seems unfair to some, but also because I realize, that I cannot save everyone or comfort them and that I shouldn’t feel guilty of things and situations I cannot control or even of those I can.

I wrote this because writing is therapeutic and perhaps I am hurting for some reason and I just cannot put my finger on it.

I wrote this because I wonder what that young man feels and sees when in his mind and soul when he is walking around from place to place and I think to myself, what if in reality, I am autistic, what if I am that young man walking around frequenting the same places over and over and everything I see and everyone I meet is simply in my Imagination.

Who knows.