Post by ral365 on Sept 25, 2013 19:24:44 GMT -5
Chapter 6
Flint was lying down on the green sofa in his living room with a brown, fleece blanket warming his bone-tired body. Sam sat beside his head, gently stroking his hair, and Brent was in an armchair to her right. Their poor friend had stopped crying, but he was still staring off into space with a depressed look on his face, as if his mind was still trying to process all his troubling thoughts.
Tim walked in from the kitchen with a tray of four colored mugs. “Coffee?”
Brent and Sam gently took one. “Thank you, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Thanks, Mr. L.”
Tim was especially careful handing a mug to Flint. “It’s ok, it’s hot chocolate, your old favorite. You think you can hold it?”
Flint’s hands were a bit shaky at first, but he got the hang of it, as if he was just remembering an old skill.
“There ya go. I guess holdin’ stuff’s hard when you’re used to walkin’ on all fours.”
Flint gulped down his entire drink, but kept staring at the ground, lost in thought.
Sam then looked up at Tim. “Mr. Lockwood, I gotta say, that was a really brave thing you did back there. You seemed so sure of yourself on how to help Flint when the rest of us were too scared to move.”
Tim sat on the other end of the sofa, stroking his Flint’s back. “Thank you, Sam. It just felt like somethin’ I needed to do as a father. Even in his condition, I’ll do anything to help my son.”
Then Manny stepped in from the door to the back porch. Flint jumped back a bit, startled, but Sam rubbed his back in comfort.
“Excuse me…I hope I am not intruding.”
“You’re fine, Manny.” Sam answered. “Is everything ok?”
“I am well underway with trying to fix Flint’s helmet. I just came down to see how he’s doing.”
Sam frowned. “…More or less. He stopped crying after a while, but now he mostly just lies around looking sad. He still can’t talk, either, other than making whimpering dog noises.”
“I see. Well, if there is anything I can do for him, by all means, let me know. I shall continue to work in his lab.”
“Thanks, Manny.”
After the handyman walked out, Sam looked back down at Flint. “I still wonder why…out of all the things we tried to make Flint remember his old self, it was his lab coat that did the trick. You’d think it’d be because he remembered you or me or Steve or any of his loved ones, but it was a sentimental object that made him stop.”
Brent raised his hand. “Hey, uh, quick question? If we wanna know what Flint’s thinking and stuff, why don’t we use Steve’s monkey thing?”
Steve was sound asleep on his pet bed. “Sleepy…”
Sam gently took the Thought Translator off of him, and put it on Flint, but all that came out was loud static noise that made Flint cover his ears and whine.
Sam immediately put it back on Steve. “Ok, ok, Flint doesn’t like the Thought Translator! I guess his brain is too badly damaged for the machine to get a clear signal of his thoughts, anyway. I wish we knew what was troubling him so we could figure out how to help him.”
Tim thought for a moment. “Hey, Flint? Can you understand me ok?”
Flint just stared at his father, listening intently.
“This whole monster, brain-changing craziness…it has somethin’ ta do with your…syndrome, doesn’t it?”
Flint’s eyes widened, and he stared off into space again, as if trying to remember.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Syndrome?”
“Um, it’s called, er…”
Tim whispered into Sam’s ear, and her eyes went wide. “Asperger Syndrome?! Flint, is that what this is all about?”
Flint just kept staring nervously up at Tim and Sam, unsure and concerned about what was going on.
Tim turned back to Sam. “He was just diagnosed with it last week, and he was really upset about it when he found out.”
Sam let out a quiet, long gasp, and stared down at Flint for another minute. She then stroked his head some more and gave him a sympathetic frown.
“Now I know why you wanted to change your brain: you’re scared.”
Brent’s eyes went wide. “He’s scared?! We were the ones who were just being attacked!”
Sam continued stroking Flint’s head as she went on. “It’s not that kind of scared, Brent. Flint just found out that he’s had a debilitating mental disorder his whole life. It’s what made him love inventing so much, but it’s also why he has so much trouble interacting with people. But because nobody ever told him why, he just assumed that that was just who he was, and that everyone would overlook his problems when they see how good he was at inventing. But now that Flint knows about his syndrome, he can’t do that anymore. He’s gonna be treated for it for the rest of his life, so, whether he likes it or not, he has to face this really shocking truth about himself, and come to terms any big changes in his lifestyle that come with it. That can be really scary, especially for an Aspie, and knowing Flint, I’d say he tried to get himself out of it as quickly as possible without thinking things through.”
Tim gaped at Sam for a minute with surprise. “…How do you know all that?”
“Because…I have Asperger Syndrome, too.”
Flint stared up at Sam, as if he understood part of what she just said.
Sam returned it with a warm smile. “I was diagnosed with it when I was thirteen, but I’ve had a lot of social skills training and therapy back in New York, and so, through the years, I figured out how to understand people and behave appropriately while still being really passionate about weather. And I couldn’t be happier for it. But I don’t want Flint to make the same mistake I did. I once thought I had to completely change who I was to get people to like me, but he reminded me that my real friends like me for who I really am, not who I pretend to be.”
Sam paused, and then gently lifted Flint’s head up toward hers. “Flint, I don’t know if you can understand me or not, but I want you to know that you never, ever have to face any big changes in your life on your own. No matter what happens, we’ll always be here to look after you and keep you safe.”
Sam’s eyes brimmed with tears. “And, I hope you remember this more than anything else…we all loved you just the way you were.”
Flint smiled at Sam’s kind words, and cutely snuggled his head against her lap like a kitten. Sam’s smile grew as she shed more tears of joy.
“Everything’s gonna be ok, Flint. I promise.”
Sam finished her heartfelt speech by giving Flint a tender kiss on his head. Brent and Tim watched with their own tears and smiles.
---
Meanwhile, Officer Earl was talking to Cal and his group of friends. They were all standing out on the Devereaux’s front lawn.
“So you’re sayin’ Flint tried to hurt y’all?!”
A brunette boy with glasses piped up. “Yeah yeah yeah! He had these huge claws, and was all screaming like this, ‘RAWWWRR!!!’”
Another black boy chimed in. “He tried to swipe his claw at me, and he almost bit Cal’s finger off!”
Earl’s eyes popped, and his right eye started twitching. “…Did you say Flint Lockwood tried to hurt Cal?!”
Cal approached him. “Dad, I’m fine, really! He almost...Dad?”
Earl gritted his angry teeth, and his eyes became bloodshot, and he ripped his entire shirt clean off with his bare hands!
“THAT’S IT!!! NOBODY touches my son and gets away with it!”
Cal gasped. “But Dad, I’m not-“
“No buts! I almost lost you today because of Flint Lockwood, and I ain’t gonna let him hurt you or any other innocent kid ever again! I’ll take care of this monster myself…”
Earl flipped and ran off several miles down the street.
“Wait, Dad, no!” Cal rolled his eyes and ran opposite of his dad, his friends following him.
“C’mon, guys! We gotta get help!”
As Earl sped down the road, he zipped right past the crowd of townspeople who were all walking together down the street from their party. When they saw Earl run toward Flint’s house, everyone gasped and raced after him…
Flint was lying down on the green sofa in his living room with a brown, fleece blanket warming his bone-tired body. Sam sat beside his head, gently stroking his hair, and Brent was in an armchair to her right. Their poor friend had stopped crying, but he was still staring off into space with a depressed look on his face, as if his mind was still trying to process all his troubling thoughts.
Tim walked in from the kitchen with a tray of four colored mugs. “Coffee?”
Brent and Sam gently took one. “Thank you, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Thanks, Mr. L.”
Tim was especially careful handing a mug to Flint. “It’s ok, it’s hot chocolate, your old favorite. You think you can hold it?”
Flint’s hands were a bit shaky at first, but he got the hang of it, as if he was just remembering an old skill.
“There ya go. I guess holdin’ stuff’s hard when you’re used to walkin’ on all fours.”
Flint gulped down his entire drink, but kept staring at the ground, lost in thought.
Sam then looked up at Tim. “Mr. Lockwood, I gotta say, that was a really brave thing you did back there. You seemed so sure of yourself on how to help Flint when the rest of us were too scared to move.”
Tim sat on the other end of the sofa, stroking his Flint’s back. “Thank you, Sam. It just felt like somethin’ I needed to do as a father. Even in his condition, I’ll do anything to help my son.”
Then Manny stepped in from the door to the back porch. Flint jumped back a bit, startled, but Sam rubbed his back in comfort.
“Excuse me…I hope I am not intruding.”
“You’re fine, Manny.” Sam answered. “Is everything ok?”
“I am well underway with trying to fix Flint’s helmet. I just came down to see how he’s doing.”
Sam frowned. “…More or less. He stopped crying after a while, but now he mostly just lies around looking sad. He still can’t talk, either, other than making whimpering dog noises.”
“I see. Well, if there is anything I can do for him, by all means, let me know. I shall continue to work in his lab.”
“Thanks, Manny.”
After the handyman walked out, Sam looked back down at Flint. “I still wonder why…out of all the things we tried to make Flint remember his old self, it was his lab coat that did the trick. You’d think it’d be because he remembered you or me or Steve or any of his loved ones, but it was a sentimental object that made him stop.”
Brent raised his hand. “Hey, uh, quick question? If we wanna know what Flint’s thinking and stuff, why don’t we use Steve’s monkey thing?”
Steve was sound asleep on his pet bed. “Sleepy…”
Sam gently took the Thought Translator off of him, and put it on Flint, but all that came out was loud static noise that made Flint cover his ears and whine.
Sam immediately put it back on Steve. “Ok, ok, Flint doesn’t like the Thought Translator! I guess his brain is too badly damaged for the machine to get a clear signal of his thoughts, anyway. I wish we knew what was troubling him so we could figure out how to help him.”
Tim thought for a moment. “Hey, Flint? Can you understand me ok?”
Flint just stared at his father, listening intently.
“This whole monster, brain-changing craziness…it has somethin’ ta do with your…syndrome, doesn’t it?”
Flint’s eyes widened, and he stared off into space again, as if trying to remember.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Syndrome?”
“Um, it’s called, er…”
Tim whispered into Sam’s ear, and her eyes went wide. “Asperger Syndrome?! Flint, is that what this is all about?”
Flint just kept staring nervously up at Tim and Sam, unsure and concerned about what was going on.
Tim turned back to Sam. “He was just diagnosed with it last week, and he was really upset about it when he found out.”
Sam let out a quiet, long gasp, and stared down at Flint for another minute. She then stroked his head some more and gave him a sympathetic frown.
“Now I know why you wanted to change your brain: you’re scared.”
Brent’s eyes went wide. “He’s scared?! We were the ones who were just being attacked!”
Sam continued stroking Flint’s head as she went on. “It’s not that kind of scared, Brent. Flint just found out that he’s had a debilitating mental disorder his whole life. It’s what made him love inventing so much, but it’s also why he has so much trouble interacting with people. But because nobody ever told him why, he just assumed that that was just who he was, and that everyone would overlook his problems when they see how good he was at inventing. But now that Flint knows about his syndrome, he can’t do that anymore. He’s gonna be treated for it for the rest of his life, so, whether he likes it or not, he has to face this really shocking truth about himself, and come to terms any big changes in his lifestyle that come with it. That can be really scary, especially for an Aspie, and knowing Flint, I’d say he tried to get himself out of it as quickly as possible without thinking things through.”
Tim gaped at Sam for a minute with surprise. “…How do you know all that?”
“Because…I have Asperger Syndrome, too.”
Flint stared up at Sam, as if he understood part of what she just said.
Sam returned it with a warm smile. “I was diagnosed with it when I was thirteen, but I’ve had a lot of social skills training and therapy back in New York, and so, through the years, I figured out how to understand people and behave appropriately while still being really passionate about weather. And I couldn’t be happier for it. But I don’t want Flint to make the same mistake I did. I once thought I had to completely change who I was to get people to like me, but he reminded me that my real friends like me for who I really am, not who I pretend to be.”
Sam paused, and then gently lifted Flint’s head up toward hers. “Flint, I don’t know if you can understand me or not, but I want you to know that you never, ever have to face any big changes in your life on your own. No matter what happens, we’ll always be here to look after you and keep you safe.”
Sam’s eyes brimmed with tears. “And, I hope you remember this more than anything else…we all loved you just the way you were.”
Flint smiled at Sam’s kind words, and cutely snuggled his head against her lap like a kitten. Sam’s smile grew as she shed more tears of joy.
“Everything’s gonna be ok, Flint. I promise.”
Sam finished her heartfelt speech by giving Flint a tender kiss on his head. Brent and Tim watched with their own tears and smiles.
---
Meanwhile, Officer Earl was talking to Cal and his group of friends. They were all standing out on the Devereaux’s front lawn.
“So you’re sayin’ Flint tried to hurt y’all?!”
A brunette boy with glasses piped up. “Yeah yeah yeah! He had these huge claws, and was all screaming like this, ‘RAWWWRR!!!’”
Another black boy chimed in. “He tried to swipe his claw at me, and he almost bit Cal’s finger off!”
Earl’s eyes popped, and his right eye started twitching. “…Did you say Flint Lockwood tried to hurt Cal?!”
Cal approached him. “Dad, I’m fine, really! He almost...Dad?”
Earl gritted his angry teeth, and his eyes became bloodshot, and he ripped his entire shirt clean off with his bare hands!
“THAT’S IT!!! NOBODY touches my son and gets away with it!”
Cal gasped. “But Dad, I’m not-“
“No buts! I almost lost you today because of Flint Lockwood, and I ain’t gonna let him hurt you or any other innocent kid ever again! I’ll take care of this monster myself…”
Earl flipped and ran off several miles down the street.
“Wait, Dad, no!” Cal rolled his eyes and ran opposite of his dad, his friends following him.
“C’mon, guys! We gotta get help!”
As Earl sped down the road, he zipped right past the crowd of townspeople who were all walking together down the street from their party. When they saw Earl run toward Flint’s house, everyone gasped and raced after him…