Wampum

Two weeks ago I sat down to write something, least I forget it, and it slipped out of my mind with my gaze out the window. I saw the branch jump and sway, but I didn't see the bird, not even the flicker that captures the signature of flight. It was important, and I couldn't remember it. Today it came back to me. I took Gracie, Sam, Jonah, and Kezzie out to "our Island", just as I had two weeks ago. This season I had changed the basic control problem, moving Kezzie out of the backpack and into the jogging stoller, and Jonah out of the jogger and its restraints, to walk and run along, under only voice control. It had gone well, with Jonah enjoying a slower, self-directed pace, and picking up stones and simply being an active participant in a familiar route around the island, until two weeks ago. Sam and Gracie ran ahead, as usual, a self-minding duet, stopping at the usual places for Jonah, Kezzie and I to catch up, but they got separated, and on the far-side of the island Gracie came back to tell me she'd lost sight of Sam. I told her to run ahead and catch up with him, and proceeded to jog, hauling an increasingly distressed Jonah on one hand, and pushing the jogger with Kezzie in the other. With each walker and jogger we crossed I asked how far ahead were the boy and girl ... each time it was "not far" ... I ran... half-way round the island.

Towards the guard station I met Sive Neilan out for a walk with her dog, heading back towards where I had come. I shouted hoarsly at her to seize Sam if she found him, and ran on, pulling a running and sobbing Jonah beside me, behind the jogger. At the guard station there was a tearful Gracie, and the guard said Sam hadn't come through ahead of her. I sent Gracie back the way we'd come to meet the lady with the little white dog, and I continued into the parking lot, put Jonah then Kezzie into their seats, strapped them in, gave them jucies and popcorn, broke down the jogger and stowed it, while giving a description of the missing child to one of the rangers. "Six years old boy, autistic, shorts and a tee, answers to Sam, not likely to go inland, knows the trail well." The missing child. As I pulled out of the lot a man handed me my cell phone and looked a little surprised that I didn't stop to chat. I put the rig next to the guard house and left the engine, radio and a/c running and told the guard "The four year old is autistic, the two year old isn't, they have juice and snack, just keep an eye on them." There were staffers now cutting across the island along two interior routes, so I ran back through the lot, past the surprised people in the lot, some of whom asked if they could help, and I kept up the chant "Six years old boy, autistic, shorts and a tee, answers to Sam" and ran on.

At the top of the hill, I met a man wearing a life jacket, coming at a steady run towards the parking lot. He asked, "Are you the one looking for a boy?" I said "Yes" and we each slid to a panting halt. "Name of Earl?" "No. Sam. Shirt with fish bones." "Ah. That's him. He's been down with our kayak group below the stone pier." We started jogging to the stone pier, and he pulled ahead and disapeared down the trail. Eventually I got there. Sive was there, with Gracie. Sam was down with the kayaks and the kayakers. A park staffer with a walkie-talkie called the others searching...

As we drove through the campus of the School for the Deaf, four abreast in the cab of a pickup, I mentioned Sam's autism, and how we first thought he was deaf and how Sam's first expressive language was ASL. The driver said that there is a small hearing population that attends the School. Children with autism, children who learn ASL first.

That was what I forgot. The previous time we were out on the island Sam jumped in the water, then further and further in. Wet shoes to splashed shorts to a stumble and wet to the laughing eyes, and up to the little jump-from ledge and jump-spash-shout again. Sam loves the water. Walking a driping mile was no disincentive. At some point in the 15 minutes drive home, or getting Jonah out of the minivan, or getting Sam into dry clothes or ... I forgot.

Today was a walk in the park. Sam held onto the jogger and I held on to Jonah and pushed the jogger. Gracie chatted with a couple about her fish preferences, and I overheard something educational. Fishsticks come from fish who eat sticks. Cold air fell out of a popcorn cloud and I explained to Gracie that we were about to take a cold shower, without our bathtub, and when the rain came we stopped under trees and snacked. Jonah surprised me twice, once there, under the trees where we four snacked while Gracie chatted with the kids and their adults building "Elf houses". He said "boats", and the "boats" again. The second time I looked and saw two kayaks going around the island, just as far from the water's edge as we. When the rain lightened we went on, and at one point Jonah said "sun" and I turned to see him gazing up into the depths of the sky. Gracie saw two wôbagasko (Casco Bay is "Bay of Herons"), and a cormorant.

Sam is learning how to make scrambled eggs. Yesterday it was most of three eggs into a bowl, and some laughter at the yolk-on-the-nose. He asked for eggs three times yesterday, getting more and more involved in the details of production. Today three eggs were drowned in milk, and sent to the sea, but very little egg didn't go in the bowl, and very little shell did, and the second clutch was eaten with glee.

Tonight the boys sleep in yeis and ledger art. My bedtime story to Gracie was the flight of Chief Wawanolette and the familiar news that she is an "ouef", one of the precious eggs from that hidden nest. Kezzie the merciless is mercifully asleep, and before I sleep I shall open a baggie and drink in the smell of sage.