Autism Fiction
For now , it was the journey home , alone . She could do this , as long as she followed the steps . She knew the steps ; she had learned them .
At the beginning of the academic year , her grandfather had lovingly met her outside the classroom . She remembered the cold air that had whipped through her like Jack Frost , gripping her chest and refusing to let go .
Granddad would ask her about her day . She would usually mumble “ Okay ,” as she ran across the playground . Arriving at the crosswalk , she had to be first to press the button .
Red light , and cross . When they were safely across , she would mimic her teachers . Sometimes it would be the New Zealand art teacher , followed by the northern P . E . coach . Her grandfather would laugh and tell her she should join a drama group .
The following week he stood a few yards further down the playground . A change , yes , but she had seen his smiling face amongst the sea of people , and they had continued their journey to her mother ’ s .
The following week , the next step , he would meet her at the wooded path .
Every week she walked a little bit further by herself . Across the playground , to the crosswalk , onto the wooded path , remember to be aware of the garages on her left , down the straight path , until she clearly saw the large front door with the number seven . Each time her grandfather was a little bit further out of sight . She was anxious at first but confident by the end of each week .
Today was the test : walking the whole journey all by herself . Remember the steps : across the playground , to the crosswalk , remember the red light ! On to the wooded path , remember to be aware of the garages on her left , down the straight path , then the large front door with the number seven .
When reaching the end of the playground , she focused on the crossing , trying not to be distracted by two other sixth graders that skipped along , carefree and loudly talking about their weekend plans .
Concentrate , concentrate ! Wait for the correct light , the red light ! It ’ s red , focus , cross the road . On to the wooded path , where Grandad had stood , past
Today was the test : walking the whole journey all by herself . Remember the steps : across the playground , to the crosswalk , remember the red light !
the garages on her left , where Grandad had stood . Down the straight path , where Grandad had stood . She took a moment to look at the daisies that scattered themselves across the grass . As she looked straight ahead , she could clearly see the large front door with the number seven .
She had reached it ! She knocked on it with pride , with a knock that said , “ I am home .”
The door opened . She had never seen her mother look as happy as she did in that moment . Mum smiled lovingly , wiped the perspiration from her forehead , and said , “ I ’ ve made your favorite for dinner .”
As she looked down the hallway , she saw Grandad sitting in the chair . He looked like he was just taking off his shoes ; maybe he had just got there .
“ I did it , Grandad !” He held up his thumbs .
She closed the door behind her and breathed in the familiar smell of sausages cooking , the warmth of the house and the comfort of home .
Kim Wedler is a teacher and a NODA award winning actress . Her experience on the Stage and behind the scenes has led to her writing a number of plays and monologues which are available from Silver Birchington plays . She is from North London in the UK .