Children: the life-sucking, soul-sapping, dream-stealing figures in all of our lives. A child doesn’t have to be mine in order to take away my happiness, burn it, then gleefully dance a top the ashes. No, a child – any child – can do that because disguised inside their tiny frames is a sort of viciousness and evil that comes straight from the 7th circle of Hell. Some see happiness and love when they look at a child. I see a ruined meal at a restaurant because little Timmy likes to express himself through senseless screaming, table shaking, booth climbing and fork throwing. Some people see innocence and the future within children. I see a horrible movie theatre experience because little Bernadette and little Bernadette’s littler sister prefer crying and whining to shutting the hell up during the feature presentation. If Dennis from Dennis the Menace had been my child the name of that comic strip would have been Dennis grows up in Foster Care. It’s not that I hate children - I actually like kids - it’s that they all hate me and do whatever they can, wherever I am, to make my life miserable.
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“Aiden would you watch
him for a few minutes? I have to
meet with Scott.” Beth breathlessly inquired, obviously in a hurry.
I looked up from the mess of paper work strewn over the desk
where I sat and blinked a few times.
“Um, what?” I
asked.
“Can you watch Jake
while I meet with Scott? It should
only take 10 minutes or so.” Beth inquired again.
I looked out into the small corridor leading up to the
office where I was working and there, like a little cocaine-drugged maniac,
crept Jake.
Jake was about 7 years old and was small for his age and
appeared to be disheveled and wild with unkempt hair and a runny nose. He was wearing green corduroy pants and a small
blue tee shirt. Attached around
his waste and legs was a yellow harness of some kind cordoned to a nylon leash that
Beth held tightly in her hand. Obviously this little monster was cut from a different
cloth if such drastic and debilitating measures were needed to control him. I also noticed he was only wearing one
shoe.
“It’s missing a shoe
and wearing a leash.” I said pointing to the child’s barefoot and attached
body harness.
“IT’S not missing
anything, HE left it in the car and HIS name is Jake. And it’s not a leash; it’s for his protection. Jake is Autistic, Aiden, and likes to
wonder off sometimes. Please just
watch him. It’s my day off but it
was the only time Scott had available to meet with me.” Beth pleaded.
“Uh yea, whatever I
can watch it. What does it like to
do?” I inquired.
“HE likes racecars and
trains.” Beth annoyingly responded, obviously not liking my repeated
references to her son as an “it”.
“Real fucking original
Beth – cars AND trains? How do you
find time to work while re-writing the entire concept of parenting? How about you challenge him? How about
you ta…”
“Yea I will watch
HIM.” I sneered, “Go do your thing.”
Beth bent down and looked Jake in the eyes, “Now you be good for Aiden. Ok? Mommy has to
have a meeting but I will be right back.
Why don’t you show Aiden your racecar?!”
“O-K” Jake mumbled
and began mindlessly fishing through his pockets.
Satisfied with her parenting pep talk Beth stood up and
walked from the office on her way to meet with Scott.
I don’t care about you
or your little racecar I thought to myself as I turned my attention from
Jake back to my paperwork.
“LOOK. HERE LOOK.” Jake half shouted holding a tiny toy
racecar in his hand while stumbling well within my personal space.
“I can see it. What
about it?” I asked scooting back in my seat so as to create some room
between Jake and I.
“LOOK. It’s my car. I like to race it.”
Jake mumbled while making a vroom sound mimicking a racecar
engine.
“Oh yea Jake? How do you race that car? It’s fake and you can’t race a fake car.” I gladly pointed out to the 7 year
old. “You want to know what else is fake, Jake? Santa.”
Jake was not listening anymore as he was too busy walking in
circles in the middle of the office, arm out stretched, holding his tiny toy
car lost in some small minded day dream filled with fast racecars and straight-aways.
I turned back to my paperwork. This babysitting thing was easy. Just give a piece of plastic with wheels attached to it to a
kid and let the imagination take over.
I guess he wasn’t that bad afterall. Jake had yet to cry or scream and seemed content on just
playing with his toy car and spinning in circles. Easy.
I glanced back over to check on Jake except something was wrong. Something was very,
very wrong because I was the only one in the office. Jake had vanished.
Shit! I thought as
my eyes darted across the room, corner to corner. I stood up and glanced behind the door. No sign of Jake. I walked out of the office and into the
back corner of the warehouse.
“Here Jake! C’mon boy!
Come here Jake!” I shouted in
a high-pitched animal type call – in my experience dogs had responded to that
type of beckoning and I didn’t see why Jake would be any different.
“Here Jake, Jake,
Jake! C’mon out boy!”
Silence. There
was no sign of Jake. My heart
began to race. Sweat beads bubbled
up on my forehead and the unexplainable feeling of knowing I misplaced a human
child set in. It was gut
wrenching. I stumbled from the
corner of the warehouse and began methodically combing up and down each aisle. It was the worst possible place to lose
sight of a child – a working warehouse filled with motorized forklifts, power
equipment and tall racking stuffed with heavy boxes. The only place worse to lose a kid would be a park populated
with pedophiles wearing trench coats and short denim shorts. I shuttered at the idea and picked up
my already panicked pace of locating Jake.
I frantically staggered from one end of the warehouse to the
other and back again. Jake had
been missing for what seemed like hours if not days. The reality that I was going to have to tell Beth - that a 28-year-old
man had been out smarted by a 7-year-old Autistic boy wearing one shoe and a
leash - was sickening. As I made
my way to the back offices I suddenly heard the undeniable sounds of a tiny toy
car being driven across an imaginary staright-away. Vroom indeed.
Jake was tucked behind and half inside of an empty Appliance
cardboard box, completely unaware that his negligent actions had nearly caused
me to have a heart attack; no
sense in trying to make Jake understand the consequences of his actions. I bent down and asked Jake to
come out from his hiding spot to which he, not surprisingly, refused. I reached into the box and grabbed the
leash attached to Jake’s harness and simply pulled him out and began dragging
across the warehouse floor back toward the office. It was in this moment Jake the person ceased to exist and
the demonic and wicked beast inside of all children took over.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The beast-boy snarled, snot and spit
oozing from his face. “I DON’T
WANT TO GO!”
Jake allowed his undersized body to go limp in an attempt to
stop the forward progress away from his cardboard wonderland. His tiny hands grabbed and lurched at
every item within reach causing a wake of destruction to follow us. Realizing his dead weight act was not
slowing my pace the demon stood and tried to run in the opposite direction all
the while screaming and hollering of the injustices and infringements of the moment
as only a 7 year old can when not given their way.
We arrived back to office and the battle with Beast
continued. Anything not bolted to
the floor was fair game and if he got his hands on it was certain to be thrown
in my general direction.
There was no reasoning with this dark and belligerent creature and so for
the preservation of my own personal safety I began to tie Jake up.
I took the leash and by pushing his tiny and spiteful hands
down to his side I was able to loop the leash around him several times,
fashioning his arms to his side.
With the remaining slack I tied it to the handle of a large metal filing cabinet in
the corner of the office. I cinched it tight so Jake could not move more than a
few inches in any direction.
Jake’s screaming mellowed to a dull whimper and he began crying for his
mom.
“I want your mom to be
here too Jake. She can deal with you
and your craziness.” I assured him.
I noticed Jake was still holding his toy racecar. I walked up to him and snatched the car
from his little destructive hands.
“Guess what Jakey, bad
kids don’t get toys.” I scoffed as I began to pretend to play with the toy
car. “Vrooooooom! This is so
fun. This is now my car Jake. And
you can never have it back. Jake
is a bad bad…”
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY SON?” Beth shouted.
I spun around and there stood Beth in the doorway. Visibly angry she marched past me and
began untying Jake.
It sort of hit me then how it might have looked – a small
autistic child having been tied up and attached to a filing cabinet was being
provoked and harassed by his adult baby sitter through the empty promise of
taking his prized possessions and never giving them back. Yea, no doubt, it looked bad.
“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM
AIDEN?!” Beth screamed
Not wanting to miss his chance at pay back Jake began to cry
and recount the terrible tribulations of being unnecessarily dragged over the
dirty and concrete floor of a warehouse – as only a 7 year old can.
“He ran away and I
didn’t want him to…” I stammered, not really sure what to say.
“So you tied him up
and told him you were going to take away all his toys? Are you crazy?! Beth barked back at me “That’s
not ok Aiden, you have issues. We’re leaving!”
Beth and Jake exited the office and started making
their way down the connecting corridor when Jake stopped and asked Beth about
his racecar. I realized I was
still holding it and called after him, motioning for him to come get it. This was my chance to apologize. Beth was right in being
upset. Had I lost my mind? In what world is it ok to tie a child
up as a measure of disciplinary action? I needed to make this right. I needed to apologize to Jake.
As Jake approached me I bent down and held the car out for
him to take.
“Hey Jake, look buddy
I am really sorry for taking your car.
You’re a good kid. Ok?”
Jake slowly retrieved the toy car from my out reached hand
and took a step back. Then without
warning he looked me straight in the eyes and spit into the palm of my
outreached hand; a small, hateful smile spreading over his face and the
twinkle of a demon in his eye as he turned and rejoined Beth. The child demon had won.
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