Michelle peered over the top of the laminated menu at her brother. Their little booth was in the quietest possible spot in the Daisy Diner, and he seemed unperturbed by the events of the morning. Breakfast here would be just fine to kill time until their appointment at the school.
“So, what can I get for you two?”
Michelle looked up with a wan smile, catching a glimpse of the dark circles under her eyes in the mirrored wall behind the adjacent booth. She could see the waitress glancing at Adam, who stared at the tabletop, arranging the sugar packets.
“Coffee, please, and a water, no ice.”
Jeannette arched an eyebrow, and not missing a beat, Michelle continued ordering food. She ordered basic eggs for herself, then prescribed in detail the only thing Adam might accept in this strange location.
“Two pancakes, please.”
“No sides?”
“No thank you. And no butter, no syrup. Can you also bring a small bowl of powdered sugar on the side please? And a glass of orange juice.”
Jeanette raised her eyebrows and smiled, prompting a sheepish shrug from Michelle. Jeannette collected their menus.
Sheriff Spaulding’s paper copy of the Rexburg Standard Journal lay abandoned in the next booth. Michelle picked it up and smirked at the novelty of a real paper news feed.
How quaint, she thought, flipping through the pages. Adam arranged the sugar packets in patterns.
On the front page was a close-up photo of a wolf on a snowy background, beautiful blue eyes, a balance of beauty and menace. The article described local ranchers and their losses from the packs wandering down from Yellowstone, and the perennial battle between conservationists and the ranching community.
“Aren’t they scary looking?” Jeanette remarked, returning with toast, gesturing to the photo. Michelle hesitated.
“Well, I guess. Pretty eyes though.” She looked up hopefully, worried her honesty might offend. Jeannette gave a little shrug.
“I understand why people want to protect them, I really do, but my brother is a sheep rancher, and they really take a toll. And when you see the carcass of lamb all ripped up, suddenly wolves don’t look too cute and cuddly.”
Michelle looked back at the picture with a new perspective, remembering the conversation yesterday with the fuel attendant in Wall and his caution about the creatures she might encounter along the highway. For a city girl used to looking over her shoulder all the time to keep an eye on the humans, the idea that the creatures in the Lincoln Park Zoo could be loose and also looking for her was a new experience.
Another story on the front page was more familiar – the expansion of a lurid love triangle to even more parties, the most recent chapter involving an assault by a younger woman on her ex-boyfriend, a retired businessman, still married. Michelle smiled at the familiar challenge of untangling the relationships and wondered about how well the reporter had gotten beneath the self-serving agendas, embellishments and lies.
The first man had confronted the ex-girlfriend with her new boyfriend, yet another married man, punches were exchanged, resulting in a serious head injury with internal bleeding because of the medications the new boyfriend was on. He was in the hospital down in Idaho Falls on a ventilator, his wife filing for divorce. The girlfriend was arrested after assaulting the old boyfriend, outside their home while his wife watched. Michelle snorted at the quote from the wife: “He’s a stupid jackass, but he pays the bills. Maybe he’s learned his lesson.”
There was one other story about the animal rights protestors out at the Research Laboratory. She skimmed it, then folded the paper up and put it down, feeling a little smug about the lack of any material from credentialed journalists. Apparently, this community had no representative of the elite of her profession, giving her a little bump of pride.
Jeanette returned with the rest of the food.
“Are you moving to Rexburg?” she asked with a friendly smile.
Michelle shook her head. “I live in Chicago. I’m just going to get my brother settled in, make sure everything is okay, then head back.”
“That’s sweet of you to help your folks out like that.”
Michelle smiled back, nodding, not wanting to get into the whole orphan thing with this lady.
“Do you think you’ll be around in a few weeks for the Dance Festival? The school always puts on a great presentation with their kids.”
“A few weeks? I don’t think so. Although maybe I could come back and visit. It’s really nice?”
“Beautiful. All sorts of folk dances, people from all over the world come. It’s really a sight.”
The rest of breakfast was uneventful. Michelle had correctly communicated to Jeannette Adam’s specifications, and he ate quietly, tolerant of Jeanette’s attention. He settled into his routine of tearing off pieces of pancake and dipping them in the sugar bowl while Michelle ate her eggs and sausage, one eye on her brother to head off a sudden behavior change. As they finished up, Jeanette waved away Michelle’s credit card.
“It’s on the Sheriff. Welcome to Rexburg.”
***
They pulled up in front of the McJames Institute and Michelle parked by the entrance. She paused, soaking it all in, giving her intuition a moment to process and register an impression. So far, so good.
She unloaded his bags from the trunk and draped the shoulder strap of the smaller one around his shoulders, noticing again his recent growth spurt.
“You’ve got to help me with this, bud.” Adam ignored her, so she slung another bag across her shoulders, picked up two more, then took Adam’s hand with her free hand and led him inside to the front door, stooping under the load. They stood at the door and Michelle waved, ignoring the intercom button to the side. A young woman looked up from a screen and gave them a big smile. The door clicked and Michelle pulled it open and lead Adam inside.
A large colorful fabric collage mural covered the wall behind the desk, cartoonish figures holding hands in a circle, planting trees, playing, all surrounding the rainbow lettered motto, “Reach for your Dreams” in large dancing letters. The multi-colored puzzle pieces of myriad logos from the neurodivergent community adorned the walls, along with a large assortment of odd, lumpy objects, of varying shapes and colors, attached to the walls up near the ceiling in little clusters, all around the lobby. Some of them reminded Michelle of the puzzles they had Adam doing back in Chicago as part of the screening tests.
The young woman at the reception desk welcomed them with a friendly smile.
“Good morning. Is this Adam?”
“Yes, it is.”
The receptionist stood and leaned across the desk, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Laurie. You must be Michelle.”
Laurie gave Adam a big smile, but respected his personal space.
“Good morning, Adam. Welcome to the McJames School. I understand you guys had a little adventure this morning?”
Michelle smiled sheepishly. “An unexpected breakfast date.”
“At the Daisy? Did you have the Belgian waffles? My weakness. I love them with the strawberries.”
“No, just pancakes. But I suspect we’ll be eating there again.”
“I love it. I see in the system you’ve got all the consents and medical done already. Thanks for being on top of that. Anything else we should know before we go to the dorm?”
Michelle cocked her head. “Like what?”
Laurie shrugged. “I don’t know, likes, dislikes, any special preferences, stuff the staff should know that wasn’t on the forms.” She arched an eyebrow.
“Well…he’s got a bit of a temper sometimes.”
Laurie laughed. “Don’t we all. No, really, the staff are well trained dealing with behavioral challenges. And besides, it’s already here.” She turned the monitor so Michelle could see. “Intermittent Explosive Mood Disorder. No big deal. So, let’s get you settled, Adam.”
That brief description capturing all the incidents, all the injuries, all the complications with other families, switching schools, the social services agencies – dismissed with a shrug and a smile, filling Michelle with relief.
They escorted Adam to a classroom, then another assistant, Miriam, took Michelle to the dorm to unpack Adam’s belongings. Michelle was further reassured by how calmly Adam went with the other teaching aides, and she quickly put away his clothes, arranged his pillow, and spread his blue Thomas blanket on the bed. Miriam smiled at the blanket.
“That’s cute. His favorite?”
“Won’t leave home without it.” Michelle looked around the dorm room and the two other beds, surrounded by similar mementos of personal preferences, hobbies, obsessions. Posters, drawings, toys. No electronics, though, she noticed approvingly.
“Are his roommates…nice?” Michelle stammered.
Miriam gave her a reassuring pat on the arm. “Very. Everyone is very excited to meet him. Well, in their own ways. But really, we’ve heard a lot about him and he’s going to fit in just fine.”
“Oh, I thought of one other thing – I know this might sound weird, but would it be possible for me to cut his hair? He won’t let anyone else do it, and we left on short notice. He’s looking pretty shaggy. My mom would be so pissed I let it get so out of hand.”
Miriam laughed. “That’s not weird at all. But don’t worry, we’ll get him spruced up. We’ll let you know if there’s any problem.”
The rest of the morning was spent attending orientation meetings, completing more forms, presentations of a dizzying array of schedules, rules, and restrictions. The powers of attorney they had her sign delegating them as custodians of all of Adam’s needs gave her pause.
They also had very strict rules about visitation, forbidding any interruption of classroom time. That was a big change from Chicago, where she’d drop in any time to check on him or help defuse a crisis.
Throughout, her intuition remained on high alert, scrutinizing, evaluating, judging every nuance of every interaction, looking for any discordant signals or cause to second guess this decision. Despite her certainty after the difficulties on the trip out, she still doubted herself, always falling back into the default mode of prioritizing Adam’s needs first and feeling guilty about thinking of her own.
Finally, it was finished. They escorted her back to the lobby. Michelle lingered, trying to think of a reason to stay longer, something else to see. Adam’s calm and the vibe she got from the staff were all positive, but she couldn’t help sensing something else, just out of reach, moving below the surface. Not threatening, but more, bigger, dynamic. Miriam touched her arm.
“He’s going to be fine. He’s already fitting in.”
Michelle smiled, eyes welling, and nodded mutely.
“Come back this evening. Have dinner with him in the cafeteria, and see how he is doing. We’ve got this.” She rubbed Michelle’s arm.
Michelle nodded again, brushed the back of her hand across her eyes, then reached over and hugged Miriam.
***
Back in the car, Michelle sat in the parking lot staring out the window at farm fields stretching off in the distance, at a loss as to what her next task was. Freedom and the ability to make decisions for herself unencumbered by responsibilities to Adam beckoned on the horizon. It evoked an uncomfortable sense of thrilling unease. She activated the car.
“Drive.”
“Destination?”
“Rexburg. Just drive around.”
The car pulled out of the parking lot and started back toward town. The knot in Michelle’s throat grew tighter and tighter, now painful. She swallowed spasmodically, feeling the tension spread into her chest, making it difficult to breath. The space inside the vehicle was close and hot, and she rolled down the window to get air, doing her breathing exercises. She let the machine carry her into town as the first shuddering sobs broke loose.
Robert Wack 