A Taste of Freedom

“I hope it’s important, Doc. My son’s birthday is this afternoon, and I really should be going soon so I can prepare the house for the guests that are coming over, and also —”

“Mr. Fernandez, relax.”

Rico sat on the chair across his cluttered desk. His eyes darted around the sparsely decorated office, while his leg bounced on its own accord. The room was silent for a moment aside from the ticking of the wall clock behind the psychiatrist’s desk.

“So Mr. Fernandez, your diagnostic results have come back in.”

“And? What do they say?”

“Well…”

He handed him the thick stack of paper held together in a crude binder, a grim look on his face. Rico furrowed his brows as he gripped the sides of the paper between his sallow, dark sepia fingers.

He skimmed the preliminary information. His eyes widened seeing the top of the paper’s results summary.

The patient’s results are consistent with a diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome.

He looked back up at the doctor.

A faint whisper crept between his parted lips. “¿Qué?”

“We’re glad your son’s psychiatrist referred you here, to be honest. Your symptoms weren’t so clear in your case, given what you told me during your screening, but our team has confirmed it.”

Rico stared at the paper some more, but the words started to become blurry.

A gear clicked into place in his head, and the floodgates of emotions burst open. His chest was tight, and tears welled up in his eyes.

It was like Jesus himself came down to Earth and revealed Himself to him.

After years of pain, years of not fitting in with everyone else, years of being the odd one out, there was a name for it now. After twenty seven years of stumbling through life with no guide what-so-ever, years of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, years of hiding his true self away from society, and months of even hiding himself from his girlfriend at times… it finally clicked.

There was a name for it.

He continued to read the paper, skimming over it again. Anxious, he skipped page after page of charts and words. His eyes landed on a passage in the summary of his screening.

Patient showed marked impairment in the use of nonverbal behavior. Examples include a frequent lack of eye contact and an admission to avoiding eye contact as much as possible by staring at one’s nose. Patient showed an intense preoccupation with specific interests that are abnormal in intensity and focus. In the patient’s case, it was an intense fixation on the fantasy book genre and Lord of the Rings. Patient also showed repetitive motor mannerisms, such as rocking back and forth in his seat during the screening. Patient also displayed signs of inappropriate speech patterns, topics, and mannerisms, such as bringing up an admission of “clubbing in his youth” unprompted when asked about his relationship history. Patient showed restricted repetitive and stereotyped patterns of behavior and daily routine, manifested by his admission of adherence to a strict schedule he refuses to deviate from under any circumstances, and extreme negative reactions to changes in said schedule.

Rico sighed. He muttered under his breath, “Nossa Senhora!”

He looked up at his psychiatrist again. “Was it always that evident, Doc?”

“Can’t comment on that, I’m afraid.”

Rico got up from his seat and joked half-heartedly, “Well, at least I know where my son gets his condition from now.”

The psychiatrist only offered him an unamused frown in response.

Rico asked, “Well, is that all? I really should be going now. My family’s waiting for me back home.”

“Yes, but before you leave —”

He handed him a single piece of paper.

“I’ve referred you to Dr. Murray. He specializes in Asperger’s Syndrome, but he’s also the main ADHD specialist in our mental health department. I’d like for you to follow up with him as soon as possible.”

Rico shook his head in confusion. “Why?”

“This is unusual, since the two conditions are rarely co-morbid, but our team also suspects you have ADHD.”

Rico stared at the balding man for a few moments, the copper shimmer of his nightly brown eyes wide out of shock and momentary disbelief.

He sputtered, before he coughed and continued with his words in a clearer manner, “Ah. Well, don’t worry about me, Doc, I’ll follow up with him as soon as I can, then. I promise. Take care!”

He left the office with the papers in hand, not looking back at the older man. As he walked down the sterile, white hallways and out into the waiting lobby, he could not help but feel giddy and full of energy like a schoolboy. A grin spread across his face. Everything made so much more sense now, as if the world was transforming into a different light before him.

He had to tell his girlfriend.

The drive home was rather uneventful, and the traffic was sort of unbearable. Such was usually the case with Bostonian traffic. At least it wasn’t Atlanta traffic. That would have been a nightmare to navigate, especially with such important news fresh on his mind. For now, he needed to tune out the revelations buzzing in his mind, which were distracting him from the road.

He turned on the radio and did not bother to switch the channel to the Latin station like he usually did. He immediately recognized the song playing as Alicia Keys’ “Fallin’”. It was sort of annoying, given the song had played over and over again on this particular station for a while now. Regardless, he tried his best to zone out to the lyrics and forget the big news for a little while, to no avail.

He pulled into the narrow driveway of his townhouse, snatched up the papers he’d left on the passenger's seat, and hopped out of the car. He entered the house and was greeted with a barrage to his senses, particularly the smell of cake frosting emanating from the kitchen, and the sound of children stomping around in the small living room. He greeted a few of the early bird parents, before he went upstairs to his bedroom and placed the papers on his work desk.

He returned downstairs to see the other children playing with each other, some in the living room and others in the patch of grass that was the backyard. All the while, his son relegated himself to the corner of the living room, lining up his plastic and wooden animal figurines in a row, as per the usual fashion of his playtime routine.

Rico approached him. “Hey, Benny! Having fun?”

His son turned around to look at him for a moment, his sky-blue eyes seeming to gaze into his soul. “Uh huh.”

“Why aren’t you playing with the other kids?”

“Too loud.”

He turned back to play with his toys. Rico let out a sigh, empathizing with his not-so-subtle complaint. It didn't help that the kids’ parents were yammering away while the TV was set to some kid’s show on Nick Jr. and blaring at full volume.

He left his son to his own devices as he approached one of the parents standing near the kitchen. “Where’s Juliana?”

“Oh, she’s outside watching over the other kids.”

“Thanks.”

Rico went to the glass door leading to the backyard. Stepping out onto the undersized patio, he spotted his girlfriend sitting at the ivory table. She laughed with one of the mothers seated across from her, a glass of white wine held in her well-manicured hand. She was beautiful as ever, with her flowing wavy blond hair and azure blue eyes their son had inherited. Even if she was wearing one of those mid to late nineties sweaters with an outdated, tacky pattern, she was still an angel descended from Heaven.

He tapped her on the shoulder causing her to turn around, her ruby red lips pursed.

Rico asked in a quiet tone, “Hey, babe, is there something we can discuss? In private? It’s pretty big news, at least to me.”

A look of concern spread on her face. “Um, sure.”

She turned back to the woman she was talking to, and gave her a fake smile, accompanied by a slight nervous chuckle. “We’ll be right back.”

Rico led her upstairs to the bedroom. He closed the door behind her.

Juliana asked with annoyance, “So, what is it?”

Rico picked up the papers from the desk and handed them to her.

She shuffled through them, looking more and more confused, almost on the verge of tears as she did so.

She whispered with hysterical yet quiet rage, “Rico, what is this?”

“It’s my diagnostic results. Babe… the psychiatrist says I have Asperger’s Syndrome. Like our son.”

There was a beat in the room, and for a moment the chaos of the party could be heard downstairs.

“I — what? No…”

“It’s true! Read the screening summary, it’s so obvious! I just —”

Rico ran his fingers through his almost black, curly hair, starting to pace around the room.

“Do you know how big this is? Do you realize how everything makes more sense to me now? I’ve always been the odd man out, and this is why. There was always a name — an explanation for my struggles, and no one bothered to tell me because it wasn’t seen as an issue until now.”

A chuffed laugh came out of his mouth. “Do you understand? This means so much to me, my God, I wish someone told me sooner!”

Juliana tossed the binder on the bed.

She sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers. “Look, don’t focus on it too much, okay? There’s no point. It doesn’t change anything about you.”

Rico clenched his fists.

His voice wavered as he snapped, “You want to pretend it doesn’t exist, don’t you? Just like you do with our son.”

Rico sensed the violent rage emanating from his girlfriend after he opened his mouth a moment too late. Without warning, Juliana snatched the binder and hurled it across the room. It landed against the wall with a thud, scattering some of the papers across the floor. She turned to glare at him, her gaze sharp and accusatory.

She said in a faltering yet seething tone, “Do not make things more difficult than they need to be. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Rico trembled where he stood. “Yes, babe. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. Please forgive me.”

Juliana’s gaze softened as she cupped Rico’s cheek with one hand, and planted a kiss on the other. The embers of her wrath faded away with a tepid smile when she pulled away from him.

A smug slyness dripped from her words as she replied, “I forgive you. Now, let’s go downstairs. I’m sure everyone is wondering where we are.”

Rico could not help but tighten his lips into a tense frown, left with no choice but to grin and bear her reaction. He swallowed the burning glow of his bitterness, now hanging on by a sliver of a thread as he resisted the primal urge to collapse onto the floor and sob in unfiltered hysteria. Instead, he gave her a smile in return, before he wiped off the lingering lipstick left on his cheek with the crook of his arm.

He managed to squeak out a quiet, “Okay.”

The couple left the bedroom and went downstairs. With the help of the other parents and the promise of vanilla cake, Rico and Juliana managed to corral the kids into the dining room. Rico watched Benny cover his ears during the birthday song. He helped him blow out his candles afterwards.

While the cake got passed around, Rico nabbed a slice and went to sit outside on the patio by himself. Tears slid down his face, tears he couldn’t be bothered to wipe away. He poked at his slice of cake with a fork clenched in his quivering hand.

“She’s just coming to terms with the news in her own way,” he thought bitterly, digging into his food, “She’ll come around with me, and she’ll come around with our son. Right?”