Chapter 2
Chapter Two
ADAM
As I flew down the road just outside the edge of town headed for home, I honked a hello at Frank on his green John Deere tractor.
He smiled and tipped his cowboy hat back at me.
It seemed he was still on cloud nine after winning the pumpkin contest last weekend—first prize for biggest squash, eight hundred pounds.
I drove past the Anderson and Bailey fields with brown dusty dirt, now that they had dried and stored their hay. I normally hated being away from Danny, but this time I was grateful for the twenty minutes to collect my emotions.
Neurodivergent…What did that even mean?
Failed parent? Too much time on electronics?
Was I inattentive? Was it because of the divorce?
Even if he was different, how would giving him a label for the whole town to focus on help him?
He needed more time from me, more support. I was sure any shortcomings were due to me and my parenting, not from him.
I rubbed my forehead. I felt like I was drowning.
Drowning in debt, failures, and expectations.
I slowed my speed and turned onto the gravel road.
I’d always prided myself on being able to keep calm and collected in charged conversations, but apparently that didn’t apply when it was about Danny.
I couldn’t believe I had knocked down the chair and crayons.
My outburst and behavior were nothing short of embarrassing…
but I was impressed that Ms. Faith didn’t back down, even with our size differences.
Even if my opinion hadn’t changed.
I pulled my old diesel truck into Mom’s dirt driveway and shifted into park. I needed to cool it. Danny felt others’ emotions strongly and would pick up on mine in an instant. That wasn’t fair to him. I wondered if there was time for a run to burn off the frustration real quick.
I leaned my head back, resting it against the multicolored striped fabric of the bench seat, and pulled out my phone. It was covered in cracks and dents, just like my truck, but it still worked fine. No need to throw something out just because it ain’t pretty, regardless of how my ex felt.
I texted Mom.
Adam: Can I go for a twenty-minute run? Had a long day.
I knew I would pay for it with inquiring questions and motherly smothering, but I would pay for it later, and later was the key.
Mom: Yep. I am making pancakes. Danny liked them last time. =)
Adam: Here’s hoping he hasn’t changed his mind. Thanks, Mom.
Danny might have in fact changed his mind. He would love one thing and eat it over and over and, without warning, he’d decide he would never eat it again. That Mom struggled in the cooking department didn’t help, and I wasn’t much better.
I grabbed my running shoes from the duffel bag I always kept nearby in case I needed to burn off some negative energy. I tightened the double knot on my laces. I put my earbuds in and selected my rock playlist.
The current plan: push my body until I can no longer think of all my failures.
I ran past cattle pastures and hayfields, letting the loud beat of the music soothe my soul. The air was crisp and cold as it filled my lungs. I could do this run with my eyes closed. This was the same run I’d done in high school.
The only difference was that back then I would run to meet my now ex-wife Cassie and make out with her near her barn. We were young and stupid, that we married right after graduation proved it. I dodged the pothole in the dirt road.
I passed the Parks’ mailbox built out of horseshoes welded together at the end of their lane. I waved at Brad as he rode by on his horse. Must be bringing the cows in from pasture.
The life Cassie posted and bragged about now couldn’t look more different from mine.
I pushed harder and faster. Trying to outrun the failures, guilt, and pain that clung on to me as Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” blasted into my ears.
Not choosing me was one thing, but not wanting Danny would never make sense.
Danny. My reason for living and the brightest and best part of my life.
The run had worked its magic because I no longer felt anger and frustration. I wanted to be with Danny. I turned around and rushed back to Mom’s.
I gasped for air, trying to steady my breath, as I walked up to the old ranch house with white paint peeling and makeshift particle board steps. I knocked as I stepped inside.
“Hey, Mom, it’s me.” It had been just the two of us for a while. Dad died of a heart attack when I was in middle school.
She glanced up from the faded blue plush couch, but her smile didn’t reach her watery eyes.
“You okay?” I crossed the worn brownish-orange shaggy carpet toward Danny at the kitchen table.
“Yep, I’m good.” She gave a small nod.
Hm. “You ready, Champ?” He nodded but said nothing, nor would he look at me or his grandma.
Something happened, but I wouldn’t push the issue today. Danny needed to get home, and I would be back in the morning anyway. We could chat then.
“Okay, I’ll be back at ten to winterize the sprinklers. Snow can’t be far off.” I had to scrape the frost off my windows every day this week.
She shrugged. “Hard to tell with Idaho, But Frank’s knees were acting up and he swears snow’s coming this weekend.”
I smiled. “I know better than to bet against Frank’s knees.” I grabbed Danny’s errant sock. The man was correct more often than the weather man.
“Let’s bring out the Christmas decorations from the shed tomorrow too.” That would cheer her up; she loved Christmas decorations, and I would get to finish early. Between frozen fingers and slick shingles, early meant less likely to fall.
It would take the whole day. First blowing out all her sprinkler lines and then loading up her house with big, gaudy plastic reindeer, Santa, elves, and tinsel.
Her favorite was the plastic yard nativity.
Even though a light had shorted out and melted part of baby Jesus’s face years ago, it still went up every year.
She insisted Jesus wouldn’t care about looks anyway.
I gave Mom a hug. “Cya in the morning.” She felt smaller against my chest than she used to. Had she been helping with Danny too much?
I grabbed Danny’s backpack off the floor where he had left it, and helped him into his neon orange sweater.
He had been wearing it every day. I tried to wash it last week, and Danny insisted he wouldn’t go to school without it.
After a heated conversation where neither of us budged, I finally asked why.
He didn’t think his friends could find him without it.
I bought an extra one that day. I had better look for a neon winter coat. I held the truck door open and Danny climbed onto the bench.
I drove the truck six miles up the dirt road.
Danny had taken to wearing his hair longer.
I’d tried to cut it for the last month, but every time I tried, he said he liked how fuzzy it felt and he didn’t like the sound of the buzzers.
I rumpled his blond hair with my hand and smiled. This kid was my entire world.
I loved my coaching job, and doing the PE classes with the kids. I loved my son. I loved my life, and I loved Hillsdale, even if it could be a bit much for some. It was my home, and they were proud of their own.
Danny started humming a Christmas song. Was he struggling in school? Why hadn’t he told me? I should probably look through the piles of papers he brings home instead of throwing them out. “Hey, Champ, how was your day?”
“Good.” Danny looked out the window at the neighbors’ grazing horses as we passed. He yawned. It wasn’t great to have him come to morning practices. But I couldn’t leave him. Maybe Mom would come over, but she was doing so much as it was.
“Hey, Danny?” He continued to stare out the window.
“Danny.” I prompted again.
Nothing. I reached over and tapped him on the shoulder, and he looked at me as if he was hearing me for the first time. “Did you eat at Gran’s?” When that boy went to another place, he was gone.
He shrugged. “Kinda. She made pancakes. I didn’t like them though. They were burnt.”
I winced. Danny’s blunt honesty could hurt Mom’s feelings sometimes. That must have been why she was upset.
“Danny.” He was looking out the window at the passing fields. “Look at me, please.” He quickly made eye contact, then looked away. “No, Danny, I need you to look at me, so I know you’re listening.”
His bright blue eyes met mine.
“Danny, did you hurt Gran’s feelings again?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I just said they were black.” His brow furrowed. “And that she should use less butter if she wanted to lose weight.”
Great. I would need to call Mom tonight. I was so tired, tired to a level that my bones and soul felt a constant ache. I rubbed my stubbled chin.
“Danny, that is hurtful,” I whispered. He was listening. There was no need to raise my voice. Another area where my ex and I differed.
His eyes shot to mine and then away. “Why? I just told the truth. She was talking about how her pants were tight and she wanted to lose weight. I remembered a YouTube video about fats in the body.”
I had to explain these things more and more, but it didn’t seem to stick. I recalled what his teacher had said about eye contact and not making social connections with the other kids. I dropped it for now. I leaned back in my seat. “I love you, bud.”
“Hmm.” His attention went back out the window.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked.
His golden hair bobbed yes, but he didn’t look my way.
“When I ask you to look at my eyes when I am talking, so I know you are listening, how does that make you feel?”
Danny shook his head. “I hate it. It makes me nervous, and my hands get wet. I don’t know what to do with them.
Why do they think I can’t hear them if I am not looking at them?
The different aids and specials teachers say it over and over.
Look me in the eye, Danny. Eye contact, Danny.
Danny, listen with your eyes, Danny.” His forehead creased. “That’s not even possible. Right?”
I leaned back. That was the most he had said about anything in a while. Okay. Don’t make him look me in the eye. Got it.
Chalk that up to another parenting fail.
I reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “Sorry, Champ. Daddy’s still trying to figure parenting out. I’ll stop asking you to look at my eyes, okay?”
He shrugged. “It’s not so bad with you. I don’t like when the lady at lunch does it. She won’t let me leave the line until I look her in the eyes and say thank you.”
It sounded like a reasonable request to say thank you. But since Danny was talking, I didn’t want to interrupt him.
“I didn’t want to do it. And she couldn’t make me.
” He glanced my way and then back to the field.
“So I decided to skip lunch, but then Ms. Faith found out. She talked with the lunch lady about how it made me uncomfortable and how we could come up with different ‘strategies.’” He made air quotes with his hands.
“She likes that word.” Danny’s brow furrowed.
“Now when I give the lunch lady a thumbs-up, she knows it means I’m saying thank you.
” Danny kicked his feet swinging from the bench.
“Ms. Faith went with me to get my lunch a few times, and now it’s okay again. ” He looked out the window again.
My pride crumpled. Ms. Faith. It sounded like I needed to apologize for more than my childish behavior. I didn’t know he wasn’t eating lunch because he was uncomfortable. I also didn’t know why he couldn’t just say thank you.
“Do you like Ms. Faith?” I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel.
“Yes. We are doing a business fair where we can win a real prize. I want to get first place.”
I nodded. I thought about our discussion earlier that day.
Discussion was a bit of a stretch. I shut her down and didn’t listen to her reasoning at all.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. Danny had been through so much. He didn’t need more difficulties in his life, including some label.
“When we get home, we can throw the ball around?” I asked Danny.
“No, thanks.”
He never wanted to throw the ball, but sports was the only way I knew how to play. Before long it would be too cold to do much of anything outside. Danny asked to build LEGO sets once, and I tried, but I always seemed to do it wrong.
There was a list of rules somewhere, but I wasn’t privy to it.
“Is there something you want to do together?”
We pulled up to our simple ranch-style home with broken shutters and a crumbling shed in the back.
“Nope, I’m good.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yep, I already told you Grandma burnt the pancakes.”
I nodded as I turned off the truck. Danny opened the door and hopped out, rushing to the front door. I shut the door of the old truck and fumbled through my set of keys as I listened to the constant sound of the neighbors free-ranging chickens.
Inside, Danny took off his shoes and his shirt and went and grabbed his favorite blanket and wrapped up like a little burrito. This wasn’t the life Cassie wanted, but it was a beautiful life, and it was mine.