CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v
(Autistic Author)
Karen watches the exchange, her heart
heavy with the weight of their
conversation. "Plankton," she says
gently. "What can Chip do to help you?"
"Just be
patient," he says. "And maybe don't
touch me to much."
Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and
he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But
what if you don't look okay?"
Plankton's antennae twitch in what
Karen recognizes as a sign of
discomfort, but he answers. "Inform
Karen, I mean uh âMommyâ, but just wait
for me to come back I guess," he says.
"Don't call panicked attention to it."
Chip nods, his eyes searching
Plankton's face. "But what if you fall
down or something?"
Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well,
if that happens," he says, his voice gruff
but gentle, "you can offer to help me up,
yet also same thing. But then just
remember to give me some space,
okay?"
Chip nods, his eyes never leaving
Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says,
voice earnest.
Karen feels a knot in her throat,
watching the two of them. Plankton's
vulnerability is a rare sight, but she
knows it's a step in the right direction.
She decides to push the conversation a
bit further.
"Chip," she says softly. "Do you have
any more questions?"
Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes
searching. "Whyâd you get so mad when
asking you questions?"
Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint
of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's
hard to explain," he says, his voice tight.
"I know you're trying to help, but
sometimes it feels like you're poking at a
sore spot."
Chip's expression falls, his lower lip
trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you,
Dad," he says, his voice a whisper.
Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping
to his side. "I know you didn't," he says,
his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes,
when people ask questions about it, it
feels like they're not accepting me the
way I am."
Karen's heart breaks a little at her
husband's words, but she knows this is
a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her
voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to
say is that sometimes, it's hard for him
to talk about."
Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton.
"But you're still my dad," he says, his
voice firm. "I'll always love you, no
matter what."
Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods
and for a
moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion
in his eye. The room is silent, the air
thick with unspoken words. Karen's
heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal
moment. Plankton has always struggled
with expressing his emotions, especially
with their son. The words "I love you"
are as foreign to him as the surface
world.
"I know you do, buddy," Plankton says,
his voice gruff. He clears his throat,
looking down at the rock on the coffee
table. "But for me, it's not always easy to
say those words." He looks up at Chip,
his eye filled with something Karen can't
quite placeâpain, perhaps, or regret.
"But just because I don't say it, doesn't
mean I don't feel it, okay?"
Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his
dad's face. "But why can't you say it?"
he asks, his voice small.
Plankton's antennae droop, and he
looks away, his eye avoiding contact
with both Karen and Chip.
"I just want to make sure you know that I
love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of
hope and desperation. "Isn't that what
families do?"
The room seems to shrink around them,
the air charged with anticipation.
Plankton's antennae shoot straight up,
and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen
can almost see the cogs turning in his
mind, the struggle to find the right
words.
"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton
snaps, his voice sharp as a knife.
Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his
hand, giving him the courage to keep
asking. "I just want to understand," Chip
whispers.
Plankton's eye flashes with irritation.
"Why does it matter so much?" he
snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do
you have to know everything?"
Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling.
"Because I don't want you to be sad," he
says, his eyes brimming with tears.
Plankton processes Chip's words. His
antennae quiver, his eye flitting between
his son and Karen, who's watching with
a silent plea for patience.
"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton
repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's
so important about me saying it?"
Karen's eyes are filled with a silent
apology as she sees the confusion and
hurt on Chip's face. She knows
Plankton's words are a defense
mechanism, a way to keep his own fears
at bay. But she also knows how much
their son needs to hear those words.
"Plankton," she says gently, her voice a
soft reminder of the love in the room.
"Chip just wants to understand."
Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in
defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I
don't know how to explain it so he gets
it."
Karen nods, her heart aching for both
her son and her husband. "Chip," she
says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?"
But Chip's eyes are on Plankton,
searching for answers that Plankton
seems unwilling to give. Plankton's
antennae are a blur of movement, his
frustration palpable in the air. "I don't
know how to explain it so you'll get it!"
he snaps, his voice echoing off the
walls.
Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws
further into himself, clutching the rock
tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice
shaking.
Karen's grip on Plankton's hand
tightens, a silent plea for calm.
"Plankton," she says gently, "you don't
have to explain everything right now. We
just want to help."
But Plankton's antennae are a blur of
agitation, his eye darting around the
room as if searching for an escape. "I
don't know what you want from me," he
says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be
honest, but it feels like no matter what I
say, it's not enough."
Karen can see the frustration in her
husband's movements, his antennae
waving erratically. "You don't have to
have all the answers right now," she
soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of
the love in the room.
Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae
stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me
to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a
hint of accusation. "You want me to just
lay it all out, like it's simple."
Karen can feel the frustration rolling off
of him, and she knows that pushing him
further won't help. "I know it's hard," she
says, her voice soothing. "But we can
take it slow, okay?"
Plankton's antennae quiver, and he
nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation.
"Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect
me to be good at it."
The tension in the room is thick, but
Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a
deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why
don't we start by talking about what
happened today?" she suggests, her
voice calm and even.
Plankton's antennae twitch, and he
nods, his eye flicking to Chip before
looking away again. "Ok," he says, his
voice tight.
"Do you remember what happened at
the park today?" Karen asks, keeping
her voice gentle and steady.
Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods
stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I
had one of my... moments."
Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with
concern. "Is it okay with DadâŠ"
"I'm right here, buddy," Plankton
interrupts, his antennae still, his eye
fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay."
But Chip isn't convinced. "But you
weren't okay at the park," he says, his
voice quivering. "You were scared I
think.."
Plankton's antennae shoot up in
frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps,
his voice echoing through the room. "It's
just... it's hard to explain!"
Karen's heart squeezes, watching her
husband's distress, but she knows they
need to keep the conversation going.
"Chip," she says gently, "why don't you
tell us what you felt when you saw
Daddy's moment?"
Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening.
"I was scared," he admits, his voice
shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and
everyone was looking."
Plankton's antennae droop, his eye
flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset,
and Karen can see the anger bubbling
beneath the surface.
"I just want to know," Chip says, his
voice trembling, "I wanna know why
youâŠ"
But before he can finish, Plankton's
antennae shoot up in anger, his eye
flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep
poking at me like that?" he yells, his
voice echoing through the room. "Can't
you just leave me alone?"
Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps
back, his small body trembling. Karen's
heart sinks as she sees the fear in her
son's eyes, and she knows that
Plankton's outburst isn't helping.
"Plankton," she says firmly, her voice
cutting through the tension.