An Autistic Mermaid Tail

Chapter 2: Amaya Noir

I was dreaming that I was underwater. The ocean was a clear blue color, and I could see everything. I swam for a minute, feeling the water. My dream got strange because I glanced down where my feet are only to find that my feet are gone. In it's place was a tail, a beautiful red and white color, and the fin was golden. It kind of reminded me of Sonic the Hedgehog's sneakers. Dolt. This is your tail, and you are a mermaid! I scolded myself.

Out of the corner of my eye was another mermaid. She was beautiful, with cobalt hair and equally blue hair. Her eyes were emerald green, and her glasses framed her face. She was slender, almost delicate, like a ballerina. Her shirt read "Katy Prickly" with what looked like Katy Perry's face and body, but the tail was like a lionfish. She was listening to something on what looked like a watery version of an iPhone, and I managed to get a glimpse of what she was listening to. Apparently, she was listening to "I Kissed a Mermaid" by Katy Prickly. I leaned in to hear, and it sounded more like "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry.

My mermaid's emerald green eyes glanced over her shoulder, then she swam away so quickly that I thought that I found a watery version of Sonic the Hedgehog. Her gaze seemed frightened, almost terrorized.

I woke up with a start. For God's sake, Amaya. You overslept again. I groaned, realizing that my alarm on my iPhone was going off. I could hear the opening notes of "Can't Be Erased" by JT Music blaring. I fumbled with my phone as I was slipping on a pair of jeans. I knew that I was late for work again. It felt like a lifetime ago when I moved away from New York City. I grumbled as I stepped outside in the hot, Hawaiian sun, "Mr. Drew is not going to like this."

I ran to work, barely managing to catch my breath. Mr. Drew's face was at the door, and he tsked as I puffed for breath. "Amaya, you are late again." He admonished, his beard salt and pepper.

I muttered, "Sorry." To be honest, I love working for Mr. Drew and his wife Anya. They run a diner called The Stim. It's a really cute and fun place to be. The logo is adorable, with the dot of the i in "Stim" in the shape of a puzzle piece. We do have one rule though: we call it the "No Autism Speaks Propoganda, No Problem" rule. In other words, if a person from Autism Speaks try to enter here, they have to either take off their Autism Speaks apparel and put on a company issued tshirt or they get shown the door. They also cannot advertise on our property.

A little background, Autism Speaks is an organization that exists solely to spread fear among the autism community. They are the kind of people who would use the money they make for ads, and their research has indeed killed three people, plus their message is negative, saying that autism is a disease and needs a solution (which, by the way, is not the case). They do not really help autistic people, and that is why the Stim was created. It acts as a way to counter the fear spreading that Autism Speaks has caused.

I'm not autistic, but I enjoy hanging out with my autistic coworkers. Most people call them strange. I don't really mind. I think I got an education on cars and other things just from hanging out with some of them. But anyways, on this day, an Autism Speaks spokesperson showed up today.

I was opening things up when a woman showed up with an Autism Speaks t-shirt. She had a Karen attitude, so I knew exactly what kind of person I was dealing with. She said, her tone horrid, "Hello. I want to ask you if you are willing to donate to Autism Speaks."

I replied, "Madam, read our policy."

She tried again, "We need-!"

I interrupted, "You need to shove your whole "autism is ruining lives and we have a solution" speech where the sun doesn't shine. Autism Speaks propaganda is not welcome on these premises."

She turned beet red, then she yelled, "That's it! I'm speaking to your manager! You are downright disrespectful and need to learn that autism ruins lives!"

Mr. Drew showed up from behind me. He purred, taking extra pleasure in watching this woman squirm, "Well, I happen to be the manager, and I'm saying that my employee is in the right. Now please leave or I will call the police on you for harassment of disabled individuals."

The woman stormed off with a huff. The Stim is awesome that way. For starters, it has four different stories. The first floor is the dining area, which has semi toned floors and the walls are covered with pictures of different things that draw autistic people, like anime, Sonic the Hedgehog, and even the odd plushie of that hedgehog can be seen around the place. The bar is Portal themed, and it has to be my favorite part. There are statues of turrets from Portal, there are two circular mirrors on the opposite side of the bar, both with corresponding colors, red and blue. The stools have a companion cube print on the seats.

The second floor is an arcade with all sorts of games, from Pong all the way down to the newest Call of Duty. We got a Wii and other consoles up there. I personally have a lot of fun playing Lara Croft with Damien, who is a total hot dude who knows everyone and everything.

The third floor is what all the employees refer to as the "Stimming Room" because this is the place where everyone goes to doodle their fixations. I've seen some really good artwork of My Hero Academia and Cat Planet Cuties on the wall.

The last floor is what we refer to as the patio. It's basically an open floor plan on the roof with a beautiful view of the Pacific. I go up there sometimes when I'm serving, and it never ceased to amaze me.

Before you can say "That is a load of bullcrap and he should not have this kind of policy on this restaurant," I need to tell you that Mr. Drew is autistic and knows that Autism Speaks is an unwelcome presence.