The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (9 page)

“No.” I grabbed his hand as he walked past me. “Just because I’m autistic doesn’t mean I know how to deal with Caelan. You’re good with me. Why don’t you deal with him?”

“Did you not just see how he reacted to my presence?” Colin squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you go outside, say hello and see what happens?”

I stared at him.

“I’ll be right here, Jenny.”

“Don’t go to the table.”

“Okay. I won’t.” He nodded to Vinnie, who grunted and joined Francine at the table.

I needed to mentally write four bars of Mozart’s Quartet in G major before I could let go of Colin’s hand and step outside my apartment. Caelan was pressing himself against the wall next to my front door, shaking his head repetitively. His breathing was ragged and shallow. “One million Earths could fit into the sun! The Earth is tilted at an angle of twenty-three and a half degrees towards the sun!”

“Hello, Caelan.”

“The Baltic Sea is an average of fifty-five metres deep!” He took a deep breath. “Hello, Doctor Lenard. The Baltic Sea’s water is much less salty than ocean water.”

“Are you having a meltdown?” As I asked this, I realised how irrational it was to expect him to answer me. I’d had very few meltdowns, but remembered well how disconnected from reality I had been. “Okay. Um. You need to focus on something—something that makes you feel safe. Geography? Maybe the night sky makes you feel safe. Focus on that. Try to slow your breathing and just focus on the stars.”

Nothing changed. He continued to shake his head, his breathing not slowing down. This was not working. I looked at Colin and shook my head. He moved his hand in a rolling motion, indicating I should continue. I felt deeply uncomfortable with this situation, but decided to try again. I lowered my voice like I did when Nikki was overreacting to some small situation. “I focus on Mozart to slow everything down. That’s what works for me. You know best what works for you. If it is your geography, then you need to find something that will make you feel safe enough to slow down what is happening in your mind.”

“Hydra is the largest constellation.” He was clearly making an effort to lower his voice, although it still echoed through the hallway.

“So it is the stars?” I hated being in this situation, but kept my voice low and calm. “Tell me what fact you find interesting.”

“The constellation Orion is best visible at twenty-one hundred hours during the month of January.”

“Tell me something else about Orion, but try to first take a deep breath and then say it as slowly as you can.”

Caelan’s eyes locked onto the wall behind me. He shook his head wildly a few times before he managed to take a deep, shuddering breath. “Orion appears differently in the southern latitudes. In South Africa, Orion’s belt is formed by three bright stars known as the Three Kings or Three Sisters. In South America, they are known as the Three Marys.” It came out in one breath. Very fast.

“That’s not slow. You need to speak slower.” I ignored Colin’s disapproving sigh. “If you want to come inside my home, you have to take another deep breath and give me another fact. Slowly.”

His breathing was marginally slower. He inhaled deeply, smoother this time, and on the exhale said, “The pyramids at Giza are an exact mirror of the three stars in Orion’s belt.”

“Good. That’s better. Now would you like to come in or go home?”

He turned his head towards me, his eyes still on the wall behind me. “Come in.”

“Do you have your control back?”

“Yes.”

I tried to remember how I had felt as a child when I had an episode like this. Autism was so unique in each individual that I couldn’t presume that Caelan was feeling the same. I decided to give him options. “Do you want to go in first or should I go first?”

“You.”

I nodded and walked into my apartment. Colin walked halfway back to the dining room table, leaving enough space for Caelan not to feel crowded. The teenager followed me into my apartment and stopped next to the living area.

“I’m going to close and lock the door. Then I’m going to sit at the table. Do you want to join us?”

“Yes.” Caelan’s breathing was close to normal now, his body no longer folding into itself. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair at the far side, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Vinnie and Francine.

Colin and I took our seats. The tension around the table was uncommon and most disconcerting. Francine schooled her expression, but couldn’t hide her discomfort. Vinnie’s expression communicated distrust and dislike. Even though his relationship with Manny was contentious, he always offered the older man a meal. He didn’t even offer Caelan a glass of water.

“Would you like to have dinner with us?” Colin asked.

“Too many colours. I’m not going to eat the disgusting colours. Only green. I only eat green food.”

“Okay. Would you like to drink something?”

“Milk in a white glass.”

“You must be shitting me.” Vinnie leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Are you for real?”

“Vinnie.” Francine put her hand on his folded arms. “Don’t.”

I looked at the food that Vinnie must have dished onto my plate. It was an enormous serving. Surely he didn’t expect me to eat it all.

I realised that thinking about the food was avoidance. I didn’t want to deal with Caelan. I didn’t like change. I didn’t like situations I hadn’t researched extensively. Caelan was not familiar. His behaviour made me feel deep discomfort on many different levels.

What surprised me more than Caelan’s autistic behaviour was my friends’ reaction to it. I took a moment to identify the other emotions that accompanied my shock. I was slightly disappointed by their antagonistic treatment of the young man. They had only been patient and kind towards me. Why would they treat Caelan any differently?

True, I’d learned to read people’s nonverbal cues in order to adjust my approach, but I also knew I was far from neurotypical. I still didn’t fully understand how and why Colin was so accepting and tolerant of me. Manny had an interesting mix of acceptance and impatience, but it was always accompanied by affection in his tone and expression. Vinnie frequently teased me, Francine too. I didn’t see much of this at the moment.

“Tell me where you saw Courbet’s
Full Standing Figure of a Man
.” Colin took a bite of his food and waited for Caelan to answer. “I think it was more than just wanting to catch my attention. How and where did you see it?”

“I got…” Caelan sucked in a quick breath. “No! The Trans-Siberian railway is the longest railway in the world, around nine thousand kilometres long. I have another condition before I give you any answers. I want a girlfriend. Everyone has a girlfriend. I need a girlfriend. I want one. I want her.”

Francine gasped when Caelan pointed his index finger straight at her. “Oh, I don’t think so, kiddo.”

“You’re pretty. Your lips are so full and red. I want you. You must be my girlfriend.”

“Just hold on now, you little shit.” Vinnie straightened in his chair, his top lip curled, his nostrils flared. “You’re in no position to make any demands.”

“Then I say nothing.” Caelan pressed his lips together for a few seconds. “Wait. Before I say nothing, I just want to say that I still want my milk. In a white glass.”

Again he pressed his lips tightly together. Francine and Vinnie loudly protested Caelan’s latest demand. They were addressing their arguments to me, as if I was in charge of this situation. My heart rate increased and darkness started creeping into my peripheral view. This was overwhelming me.

I mentally pulled up Mozart’s Quartet in G major and wrote the next line of that exquisite masterpiece. It took only a few seconds for me to gather my thoughts. When I opened my eyes, Vinnie was still arguing. Caelan’s lips were in a thin white line. I raised both hands, one palm towards Vinnie and one towards Caelan. “Please stop.”

Vinnie stared at me for a few seconds before he leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. Caelan’s expression didn’t change.

“Caelan, would you consider a trade?” I ignored Francine’s gasp. “I think it will be acceptable if you answer this question. You will not be giving away any of your information.”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “What kind of trade?”

I might deeply regret this in the future, but I didn’t know what else to do. “You are making enemies at the moment. Not friends. Nobody here likes you because of your behaviour.”

“I don’t care.”

“I know. And that is the problem. If you want people to co-operate with you, you should treat them with respect.” This might have been the most important lesson I had learned, especially in the last two years.

“So?”

“I can teach you how neurotypicals think and how they receive our communication. Then I can teach you how to communicate effectively with them and treat them with respect.”

“You want me to lie?”

“No.” This was a concept I grappled with frequently. Most neurotypical communication was based on polite diplomacies. In my mind those all qualified as lies. Through many unfortunate experiences, I had learned that people didn’t want honesty.

“Jenny… Doctor Lenard has us.” Colin waved his hand at Vinnie and Francine, who were both watching the discussion with increasing interest and decreasing aggression. “Not only do we love her, we also support her. If she has any problems, we’re there for her. I don’t think it’s nice to go through life alone. It’s hard. Wouldn’t you also like to have friends? People who love and accept you for who you are?”

Caelan was looking up at the ceiling, appearing not to listen at all. I knew he was paying close attention. “I still want milk. And a girlfriend.”

“If Genevieve is going to teach you how to be nice, I’ll teach you how to find a girlfriend.” Francine lowered her voice and muttered, “And keep her.”

It took Caelan a few minutes to consider this offer. There was silence around the table except for the sound of cutlery on the plates. I didn’t feel like eating, but took a few bites nonetheless. It was enough to reawaken my hunger. When Caelan shifted in his chair five minutes later, I’d eaten one third of Vinnie’s generous serving.

“I want milk.” Caelan didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling.

“I need you to tell me if you agree to our trade, Caelan.”

“I agree to your trade. Can I now have my milk?”

Vinnie grunted loudly and stood up. “I’ll go find a white mug or something to serve his highness.”

“Will you now please tell me about this painting?” Colin put his knife and fork down, watching Caelan.

“Courbet’
s
Full Standing Figure of a Man
.”

Colin took a slow breath. “Yes. Where did you come across it?”

Vinnie put an unfamiliar white coffee mug in front of Caelan. He must have found it in his crockery collection. Even though we’d combined the two apartments, we only used my kitchen. Vinnie and I had agreed on one cupboard where he could keep his kitchen equipment. I never opened those doors.

Caelan drank his milk without taking a breath and placed the mug back on the table. He nodded a few times and got up. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Now I need to sleep. It is almost my reading time. I can’t miss my reading time. I have to go home.”

“Where is home? Can we give you a lift?”

Caelan ignored Colin’s question and walked stiffly to the front door. He stopped a few feet from the door and stared at the locks. He didn’t move, didn’t asked for the door to be unlocked. He simply stood there.

Vinnie shook his head, picked up the serving dish and put a few more spoons of the stir-fry on his plate. Francine looked from me to Caelan and back to me. She lifted both shoulders and took another bite of her salad.

“He needs you, Jenny,” Colin said softly.

I didn’t want this young man to need my help. I wanted to tell Colin this, but knew it would affect Caelan. My parents and their friends had always thought I wasn’t listening when they said hurtful things. Even though my mind had been occupied with something else or I’d appeared not to be listening, I’d heard it all. I remembered that pain and confusion. I wasn’t going to subject Caelan to that.

I walked to the front door and unlocked all but the last lock. My hand lingered on it and I looked at Caelan. “You’ve given us nothing. We gave you milk. It is not a fair trade. Can you answer one question for me?”

He was staring at my hand, showing no indication that he’d heard me.

“I don’t think you’re interested in stopping the illegal sale of art. Why did you contact me?”

Caelan’s jaw started moving, his head shaking a few times. I waited.

“I need help.” His answer was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. But I did. I also understood the enormity of that statement.

“Okay.” I unlocked the door. “We’ll help you. You don’t need to give us anything. You don’t need to blackmail us with information. We’ll help you. Unconditionally. All I ask in return is that you try to look past your fears and experiences, and see our actions. Look at it like you look at everything else—rationally, objectively. Maybe you could learn to trust us.”