Spirit Lead Me

Cecil: Friend or ......?

Kindergarten practically flew by, and first grade began. I had a feeling that this year would be different. After all, I was a whole year older!

Surprisingly, I was correct. This year WOULD be different. When I entered the classroom, I saw a strange boy sitting  i a seat bot so far from mine. He was in first grade, but was a year older, being seven.

I remember wishing that he was a girl- there we already too many boys- but I had no such luck. No matter how hard I wished, Cecil was still a boy, and a weird one at that.

At first I did not like Cecil. He acted different than the rest of us, and he had to take medication everyday. Like me, he had a short temper, but he lost it for what often seemed like no reason. Mrs. Brown had a poster set up in a somewhat isolated area in the room. It had the numbers one through ten on it, with steps for calming down. He often had what seemed to be random outbursts over nothing, and Mrs. Brown often sent him into his little corner.

I thought of him as ridiculous, and thought that he was a big crybaby who always had to have his way no matter what, but then my mom talked to me. She told me that it was not Cecil's fault that he was different, that he couldn't control it. It was just how he was born. She used a big word- autism. I did not understand what it meant, but Mom explained that he was autistic- or different as I understood at age six. After our little talk, I decided to find out who he really was and not judge him by his cover. So I opened his book and found a great friend inside. Soon Cecil was awarded a place in our group, and became one of my best friends.
~
One time in first or second grade, we were coming back to the school from a field trip that we took to a museum about an hour away. We had taken a nearby church's church van, and Cecil, Emilia, and I  were seated in the first row. I was sitting between them, and Emilia was sleeping on my shoulder. Cecil and I were playing a game, and it was Cecil's turn to draw the dots so that I could connect them. I wasn't supposed to watch him so I put my head on his lap. He stiffened at first because he did not like being touched, as I had forgotten. Then he forgot about me and continued to focus on the dots that he was to be drawing. When he was done I connected them, and it was my turn to set up the dots. When it was his turn again, I returned my head to his lap. But I looked up, into his big, brown eyes, as if to say is this OK? He just pushed my head back so I took that to mean yes. His father was sitting up front in the passenger seat. He turned around to check on Cecil, surprised to find Cecil not yelling at me. Then he smiled at me, and I smiled back.

Cecil's dad told his mom, and his mom told my mom. Mom told me that she was glad that Cecil and I were getting along, but that I couldn't put my head on his lap, even though it was innocent. No one was mad at me, and Cecil's dad said that Cecil had never let anyone besides his family touch him, which is why I think he was fine with it when he smiled at me.
~
I was also the only one at school who could calm him down, cheer him up, or even explain that there are things that he cannot do without him getting upset. We were a pair we were, and I knew that we always would be.