299 Days: The Preparation

Chapter 9 The “A” Word

Grant’s son, Cole, was two years old now. He wasn’t talking much. Grant was a little worried, but he didn’t want to bring it up.

Manda, as they called Amanda, was the perkiest and most outgoing child on the planet. She had red hair and was the center of attention in any setting.

Lisa was her competitive self. A person has to be competitive to make it through medical school but she was a little too competitive sometimes. She had to master everything she set her mind to. She knew what was best because she had looked into it and her worthless husband just worked and then collapsed on the couch to watch football. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” was, unfortunately, becoming her motto. Even more unfortunately, it was true, given her workaholic and overweight husband.

But, all the comforts of the suburbs made things fine. Nice house, nice cars, nice furniture, all that. They weren’t in debt but they had lots of stuff.

Lisa was also concerned about Cole not talking. She took him, without telling Grant, to a pediatric specialist. “Autism.”

That’s what was wrong with Cole.

“Autism.” What a terrifying word. It meant never talking, having to live in an institution. Lisa cried all the way home from the doctor’s office.

Grant cried when Lisa told him of the diagnosis after the appointment. Their “perfect” life wasn’t so perfect now. One of their kids wasn’t going to be a doctor or a lawyer. He would probably have to live in an institution. It was devastating.

But the diagnosis explained a lot. As they would later find out, Cole had a normal IQ, but had extreme difficulty communicating. He could not understand many words and he couldn’t speak them. Later, at age seven, he could speak and understand words at a two year-old level.

Amazingly, Cole could read years ahead of his age. He didn’t always understand what was written, but he did pretty well. He had a photographic memory. He could recall a license plate he had seen two years earlier. He could tell extremely slight differences in detail between things. He could understand mechanics and figure out devices instantly. He was an absolute whiz on the computer. Basically, his extreme lack of verbal communication was made up for by his extreme understanding of visual things.

It was very frustrating for the little guy. Cole would be tired and want to sleep but he couldn’t say it. He knew what to say but the words wouldn’t form. None of the grownups could understand what he wanted. He would try to talk and they would ask, “Are you hungry? Do you need to go potty?” No, I’m tired, he would try to say. I want to go to bed now. Then he would cry. He cried a lot.

Lisa, the competitive one and the doctor, went to work learning everything about autism. She bought dozens of books on the topic. She crafted a very detailed plan to teach Cole to talk. It centered on visual things. She made index cards with words on them, like “eat.” She would show a card to Cole and he would know it was time to eat. He understood that because it was written down, it wasn’t words someone was saying to him. Cole soon progressed to showing Lisa or Grant the “eat” card, which meant he wanted to eat. It was like sign language, but with index cards.

Cole began using the cards less and less and began using simple words. The words were still fewer and more basic than kids his age, but he was learning. It was like he was stuck in France and everyone spoke French except him. He had to figure out how to get things done with simple words and hand motions like one would if they were surrounded by people speaking only French.

Kindergarten was the first big test. Lisa worried that the teachers wouldn’t accept Cole; Grant was ready to sue them. But, the teachers in Olympia were great. They made educating Cole a top priority. The kids were also great to him; they took him under their wings. For all the bad things Grant thought about government, he had to admit that the Olympia schools were excellent. They were taking care of his little Cole and that was all that mattered.

Cole got better and better. By his later years of elementary school, he could string sentences together. It was still very hard for him to understand people he wasn’t used to. People like his family had gotten used to how to talk to him, but others didn’t know.

Manda took amazingly good care of her little brother. She spent a lot of her free time helping him talk and asking him questions to get him to talk. It was heartwarming. Cole came to depend on his big sister. When she was gone, Cole would ask, “Where is Sissy?” He could handle her being gone, but he was much more comfortable with her around.

Grant had a nontraditional father/son relationship with Cole.

They were very close and Grant spent all the time he could with Cole. But not being able to communicate well put a crimp in the formation of the relationship. Grant learned that hanging out with Cole meant just being in the same room with him; it didn’t mean talking. Cole got more and more comfortable with Grant just being there and not trying to talk to him all the time. Once the comfort was there, then Cole would let Grant talk to him.

Even when Cole was in middle school, Grant felt like he had a young boy instead of a middle school student. Grant would notice other dads talking to their sons like Grant talked to Cole, and then realize that the other boys were three or four years old. It was very hard on Grant. He loved Cole, and Cole was doing so much better than a kid with a full case of autism, but Grant still struggled.

Cole was on a little league team. They gave him a few breaks like pitching him soft balls. At first he didn’t get the part about running to first base but once someone showed him, he did fine. He even hit a homerun one time and ran the bases. He would be OK. Different, but OK.

Cole’s autism had a big effect on Grant. He realized that the “perfect” suburban life—a nice house, lots of stuff, vacations—wasn’t so perfect. Family was what mattered. Grant felt this urge to disregard the expectations of being a “normal” suburban family and became fixated on ensuring that his family could make it through whatever bad things came their way. Grant was the man in the family, and this was what men did. He started working more reasonable hours and stopped letting his mind be occupied with how to climb the résumé ladder.

Grant became a Christian. One night he just said, “God, I can’t do this on my own. I need You.” Right as he said that, he had the overpowering sensation that everything would ultimately be alright, but after lots of misery and sacrifice. It was more than just optimism; it was a certainty that amazing things were ahead of him. It was the path again: He couldn’t see into the future, but he knew—with absolute certainty—the general direction things would go. He started to see that people put into his life would be part of the coming amazing things and that he and they had been placed in this place at this time for a reason. He didn’t want people to think he was crazy so he didn’t talk about it. He essentially became a secret Christian.

During this time, Grant kept thinking about how he was the man and it was his job to get his family through whatever came in the future. He thought about how dependent they were on society. They relied on many other people for things like food, fixing things, personal protection. These were all the things that he used to know how to do in Forks but had lost. It was just a little thought at this point. He didn’t actually do anything to act on the little thought. But he thought it. Over and over again. It was like someone was trying to tell him something.