The boy was dressed a little oddly for a trip to the garden center on a rainy day in May; long sleeved blue cotton tee shirt with a blue undershirt peaking out of the neckline, blue shorts and blue swim shoes. When I asked his father if they needed any help, the little boy answered. He was looking for a bush for butterflies. Is it your garden or his? I asked. His the father replied.
The boy stooped every few feet to read the hang tags dangling like plastic flags from pots lining the gravel walk. At the bridge, he stopped and looked at the ragged slate outcroppings that make up the bank of the deep creek. Do you see any snakes? I asked. The boy looked surprised and took a longer look. Some snakes eat bugs he said.
The boy named a few of the plants, pointing them out to his father as we walked by. When we reached the butterfly bushes, he pronounced them unsuitable. I showed them the lilacs. This one is purple with white outlines. See? That is pretty unusual. I bet butterflies like this one said the boy. I made some remark about how clever the boy was, and how much he knew about plants. No, bugs. I like bugs and bugs like plants corrected the boy. I sent the boy and his father towards the ornamental shrubs and went to wait on other customers.
Look at that little boy showing his dad the plants! exclaimed my boss; He’s like a little professor!
When they came into the office to check out, they had the fancy lilac. As I was ringing them out, I asked the boy what his favorite butterfly was. Monarch came the answer with no hesitation. The boy remarked there were a lot of bees in the nursery. I smiled and asked him if he knew how many kinds of bees there were. Yes! came the enthusiastic answer; Carpenter bees, honey bees, Bumblebees, Orchid bees…
The father looked over his son’s head as the boy launched into descriptions of each bee type and gave an embarrassed shrug. He has Asperger’s, he said. Yes, I replied. My son does too.
As I put the lilac’s wet pot in a bag I introduced myself to the boy. My name is Laura, what’s your’s? His name was Elijah. Elijah, I said, I hope you come back and visit me again. I hope his father heard me, really heard me, and I do hope they come back again soon.
4 Comments
May 18, 2009 at 10:48 am
Beautiful story. There’s a huge family of us and it’s always nice to meet a relative. I hope you see them again and again.
May 18, 2009 at 12:50 pm
A good read. Loads of creativity and affection come through your words. Well done.
May 20, 2009 at 8:50 am
I hope he comes back too. For you and for him. And for the butterflies.
May 30, 2009 at 1:06 am
You are such a good soul, Laura. We could all learn from you.