The Adventures of Stevie #39
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 12 in this story. It is Spring of year 2 of his special
school.
The Adventures of Stevie #39 "Slap Unhappy"
Dear Carlos,
When we got home from the hospital, I told my parents there was
something we had to talk about. We did, but it didn't happen like I
thought it would. I told them I had a problem, but I didn't know how to
tell them without making them upset. They worked hard to persuade me to
tell them, and I let them. That way they would have less to complain
about if they didn't like it, because I warned them, and they made me
tell them anyway. Chessing is a big help. Father knew what I was doing,
and approved.
I said to mother "Please don't slap me until my head is all better."
She started to say she would do it whenever I deserved it, but I
interrupted her with "PLEASE don't, it could make me die." Her mouth
fell open, like she didn't think about it that way before, which showed
I was right to make sure she knew. Then she said "Oh." I said "It's
what the doctor wants, but there is a different problem with the
slapping I think you might not know about. Can I tell you about it?"
Before mother could say something, father said fast, "Go ahead."
"You remember I throw up sometimes in the car, and in airplanes?"
They nodded, and probably remembered the smell. I was sorry about that.
"That's called seasickness, or motion sickness, which some people have.
I think it has to do with the balance part of the inside of the ear and
the eyes not working together right. Sometimes I get that bad throw up
feeling when my head moves too suddenly, like when I get slapped. It
makes me really dizzy and feeling sick for a while." Mother was looking
a little sick about what I told her. Then I said "But that's not
everything. There is something else I think is more important." Father
said very gently "Well son, what is it?" Just like I wanted him too,
and he knew it.
"You know about my hearing? How good and sensitive it is?" I told
mother, "Yours is really good too, better than most people. Well, mine
is that much better than yours. I can almost hear a pin drop before you
let it go. Not really, but you know what I mean. When you slap me, it's
so near my ear, and so loud to my special hearing, it REALLY hurts it,
and I can't hear from that ear for a while. I'm really REALLY afraid my
hearing will never come back each time you do it, and that makes me
feel really bad, like the sting on my cheek is nothing. Then all I can
think of is how much you hate me to do that." Mother was getting upset
with me again. She said "I don't hate you!" I said "I'm sorry, but to a
kid, actions are more real than any words which don't match them. You
hurt a kid that bad a lot, when most of the time he knows he doesn't
deserve even a bad word, something he knows from seeing how other
parents and kids are with each other, he knows it has to be because you
hate him, no matter what you say about it." She yelled "Nonsense!" I
told her "You are doing it AGAIN." She knew what that meant, and raised
her hand to slap me. Father grabbed her wrist and said to her. "Wait,
we need to talk." Then said to me "That's enough. Go." He signaled
"listen." I signaled back "conference" and "not urgent." He signaled
"agreement." All that signaling meant I was supposed to listen to what
they said to each other, and father would discuss it with me later when
he had time. I went. My eyes were on my homework, but my ears were on
my parents.
Father told mother "We have a serious problem." Mother said "Yes, he
should be punished for being so disrespectful." Father said "I
disagree. Remember, he warned us what he had to tell us would be
upsetting. We made him tell us, so we have only ourselves to blame for
the result. And remember, haven't we always told our children to be
honest with us? He was. We can't fault him for that. No, the serious
problem is his safety. Don't you realize you were about to slap him,
knowing it could kill him? And that's when he in no way deserved it. We
need to find a place for him to live, where he can be safe." She
started crying. I felt sorry for her. He said "Dear, I know it's hard
to accept, but this situation has another problem inherent in it. What
if the police discovered what your slap does to him. That constitutes
child abuse. Our children would be taken away from us, and you would be
prosecuted. Stephen is very smart. He knows this. He could have told
the doctor, and potentially saved his life. He didn't. He protected
you. He loves you very much. Don't you see that?" She cried some more.
Father said "We need to see Dr. Knot. He helped me to accept my bad
memories from the war. I think he can help us with this situation too.
He's an expert. He can help us figure out what to do. For now, I will
see if Jeremy's foster parents will take in Stephen. It will be just
for a sort time, until we can work all this out. Do you agree?" Mother
mumbled something I couldn't make out, that must have been "Yes." They
probably hugged for a while.
I was thinking, there goes my plans for trying to get Jeremy and
Tommy together in father's office for some matchmaking fun, and then it
exploded in my head, I might be going to live with Jeremy! Then father
came to my doorway, and motioned me to follow him. We went into his
office and he made some calls and we talked. I will not be going to
school for a week, because of the holiday. I am going to stay with
Jeremy for a while. The other kids are going to stay with relatives
until mother gets better. I cried and hugged father. I think he was
very surprised I did that, because I had not done that to him since I
was 4, and knew then it made him uncomfortable. I told him it was not
good for me to be away from him, because he is the only person who
knows who I really am, and he knows so much I want to learn, and I
really love and respect and like him, and he makes my mind work in a
fun and exciting way, which I love a lot. Then I said I was sorry for
getting too emotional with him. He said "That's alright, as long as you
don't do it too often," and gave me his little smile. I took it, and
I'm keeping it with me all the time I'm living with Jeremy.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
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