CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi
(Autistic Author)
The wind whispers through the leaves of
the nearby trees, carrying with it the
scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant
sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure,
but one that Plankton has often missed
in his quest to protect his son from the
storms in his own mind.
Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a
ball comes hurtling through the air,
narrowly missing Plankton's head. He
flinches, his antennae shooting straight
up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an
abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The
children playing nearby laugh, unaware
of the chaos their game has brought to
the quiet corner of the playground.
Plankton's eye darts around, trying to
process the sudden assault of sound
and movement. His breath comes in
quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can
see the beginnings of a panic attack
forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip
shouts, jumping off his swing and racing
to his side.
With surprising speed and grace, Chip
leaps into action, catching Plankton just
as he starts to topple off the swing.
"Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with
urgency as he gently guides Plankton's
unresponsive body to the soft grass
below. The love rock still clutches in his
small hand.
Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with
concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling
beside them.
Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has
an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice
shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen,
his eyes filled with fear and confusion.
"What do we do?"
Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and
love as she takes in the sight of
Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing,
his antennae limp. She's been here
before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok,"
she says, her voice calm despite her
racing heart. "Just give him a moment.
He'll come back to us."
Chip nods, his grip on the love rock
tightening as he watches his father. The
world seems to slow down around them,
the laughter of the other children fading
into a distant memory. Plankton's
breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen
reaches out, placing a gentle hand on
his back, feeling the rise and fall of his
chest.
The seconds tick by like hours, each
one filled with the weight of uncertainty.
Chip clutches the love rock, willing his
dad to come back. He's seen this
before, but it never gets easier. He
remembers the first time it happened,
the fear that had gripped him, the feeling
of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed
over. But now, he knows what to do.
He's not as scared; he's prepared.
With trembling hands, Chip takes out the
love rock, its smoothness a comforting
reminder of their conversation. He
places it gently in Plankton's palm,
curling the slender fingers around it.
"You're ok," he whispers, his voice
steady despite the storm of emotions
inside. "We’re here."
Plankton's body remains still, a stark
contrast to the vibrant world around
them. The squeaks of the swings, the
laughter of the children, the distant
crash of waves, all seem to fade into the
background as they wait for him to
return from his brief retreat.
Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his
shoulder, offering silent support.
Time seems to stand still as they wait,
the rock in Plankton's hand a silent
testament to their newfound bond. The
park's vibrant sounds muffle into a
distant symphony, the world holding its
breath for Plankton's return. Above
them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light,
the shadows dancing as if in a silent
ballet of concern.
The seconds stretch into eternity, each
one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes
never leave his father, willing him back
with all his might. The rock in Plankton's
palm is a symbol of love and
understanding, a bridge connecting
them through the stormy seas of his
mind.
As Plankton's body remains frozen, the
world around them seems to hold its
breath. The rustling of the leaves above,
the distant laughter of children, even the
crash of waves in the background seem
to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the
universe itself is offering a quiet
sanctuary for Plankton's return.
Chip's eyes never leave his father's
face, his grip on the love rock in
Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart
races with fear, but he squeezes the
rock tighter, trying to channel the love
and support he feels into his dad's
unresponsive hand. Chip decides to
whisper comforting words.
"Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're
safe here with me and Mom."
Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear
and admiration for her son's courage.
She watches as Chip decides to
continue.
"Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip
whispers. "It's my way of saying I love
you."
Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a
glimmer of recognition in his eye. The
world around them seems to hold its
breath, the very air thick with
anticipation. Chip's voice is the only
sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony
of the playground.
The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm,
almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love
Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches
as Plankton's antennae slowly start to
wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to
them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice
barely audible. "I'll always be here."
Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her
eyes glistening with tears she's trying
hard to hold back. The sight of her son's
unwavering support is both
heartbreaking and awe-inspiring.
Plankton's chest rises and falls more
steadily, his breathing evening out.
The rock in Plankton's hand seems to
pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent
acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen
sees the tension in Plankton's features
begin to ease, his antennae drooping
slightly as he starts to come back to
them. It's a delicate process, like waking
a sleeping dragon. Any sudden
movement could send him back into the
storm.
Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding
Plankton through the fog.
"It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice
soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's
antennae twitch again, and Karen can
see the spark of understanding in his
eye.
Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax.
The tension in his shoulders eases, and
his antennae twitch in a way that tells
Karen he's listening, that he's with them
again. His breathing evens out, and his
eyelid flickers closed.
For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then,
Plankton's hand tightens slightly around
the rock, giving him a squeeze that says
'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes
shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s
asleep," she whispers, her voice filled
with a mix of humor and love.
Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving
Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like
that for a while, the three of them, in the
quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The
storm in Plankton's mind has passed,
leaving them in a gentle lull.
The playground's sounds slowly start to
filter back in, the chatter of children, the
distant hum of the city, the rustling of
leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps
whispering, his voice a gentle caress in
the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're
safe."
Karen watches her son with a mix of
love and sadness, knowing the weight
he now carries. He's growing up too fast,
she thinks, but he's handling it with more
grace than anyone could ask for.
Plankton's hand relaxes around the
rock, his breathing deep and even. The
storm inside him has passed for now,
leaving them with a quiet, precious
moment.
Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper.
"Is he going to be ok?"
Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine,"
she says. "Rest is sometimes the best
thing for him after an episode."
Chip nods, his grip on the rock in
Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He
looks around the park, the world coming
back into focus. The other kids are
playing, their laughter a gentle reminder
of the life that goes on outside their little
bubble of concern.
"Should we go home?" Chip asks, his
voice still hushed.
Karen nods. "Let's get him into the
shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby
tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him
good."
Together, they gently lift Plankton and
carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip
is careful not to jostle him too much, his
little hands supporting Plankton's head.
Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on
the ground and they place him down.
His antennae are still now, no longer
dancing with the stress of the seizure.
His breath is deep and even, his
features relaxed in sleep.
Chip watches him intently, his thumb
tracing the smooth surface of the love
rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he
asks, his voice a barely audible whisper.
Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce
protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie,"
she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."
