A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY iii
ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᵀᵒᵖⁱᶜˢ
(By NeuroFabulous)
ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀᴄᴛs
Karen turned to Chip, her face a mask
of calmness. She knew she had to
explain, but she also knew it wasn't
going to be easy. "Let's go talk to Dad,"
she said, her voice steady. Chip nodded,
his hand in hers as they walked back
up the stairs.
Plankton was still
sitting on the
edge of the bed.
He looked up as they
approached.
"Daddy?" Chip's voice
was small and
trembling. Plankton's
expression shifted
from confusion to
realization. He knew
he had been somewhere
else, lost in his
thoughts again.
Karen sat down next to
Plankton, her eyes
meeting Chip's. "Chip, sweetie,
there's something we need
to tell you about Daddy," she began,
her voice a gentle whisper.
Chip looked at her, his eyes
full of questions. "What is it,
Mom?"
Karen took a deep breath. "Your
Dad has something called
autism," she began, her voice
soft. "It's like a special way his
brain works that makes him see
the world differently than we do."
Chip's eyes widened. "Is that
why he did those weird
things?" he asked, his voice
filled with curiosity rather than
judgment, but that's not how
Plankton took it. His expression
grew defensive.
"Weird things?"
Plankton's voice
was sharp. "What
do you mean, Chip?"
Karen's gaze
softened as she
saw the look of
hurt in Plankton's
eye. She placed
a comforting hand
on Chip's shoulder.
"Sweetie, it's not that
he does weird things.
It's just that sometimes
his brain needs a break.
It's like he goes on a little vacation
without telling us. It's called an episode."
Plankton flinched at
the word, his antennas
drooping. "But why
does it happen?" Chip
asked, his voice still
filled with innocence.
"Well, autism is like a
different operating system
for the brain," Karen
explained, choosing her words
carefully. "Some people with
autism have moments where
their brains need to recharge
or process information in a way
that's unique to them. It's not
weird or wrong, just different."
Chip looked from Karen to
Plankton, his mind racing with
questions. "So my dad's just
being... special?" he asked, trying
to make sense of the situation.
Plankton's gaze fell to the floor, feeling
patronized and belittled by Chip's
curiosity.
"In a way, yes," Karen said, her voice
soothing. "But it's not something
to be ashamed of. It's part of who
Daddy is, and it makes him special
in a lot of wonderful ways." She took
his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring
squeeze. "But it can also make things
difficult for him, like today."
Chip nodded slowly, trying to digest
the information. "Does that mean
he won't ever be able to play with
us like other dads?" His question,
though unintentionally, was laced
with a hint of disappointment.
Plankton's eye narrowed, and he
felt the sting of microaggression in
his son's words. "Chip, I can play
with you. It's just sometimes I need
to be by myself, okay?" His voice
was tight, the frustration of years
of misunderstanding bubbling to
the surface.
Karen intervened, sensing the
tension. "Chip, Dad's episodes are
just part of who he is. He loves you
very much, and he'll always be here
for you."
But Chip's mind was racing. He
couldn't help but wonder if there
was something wrong with his
dad. He looked at Plankton,
his confusion and fear evident. "But
why does he have to be like this?"
Karen sighed, her heart heavy with
the weight of the conversation.
"Chip," she said gently, "it's not a
choice. It's just how Daddy's brain is
wired. It's not something bad, just
different."
Chip frowned, his brow furrowed
as he thought. "But why can't he just
turn it off?" He didn't mean to sound
so dismissive, but the concept of
his father being 'different' was still
difficult to grasp. "Why's he gotta have
this...this thing? I mean, if it makes him
sick, why do we have to keep hanging
out with him?"
The words were out before Chip could
even realize the impact they would have.
Plankton's eye snapped up. A
wave of fury washed over his face, his
small form seemingly growing in size as his
autistic mind processed the unintended
slight. "You think I'm sick?" he roared, his
voice echoing through the room, the walls
seemingly trembling with his rage.
The sudden outburst startled Chip, his eyes
going wide with shock. He had never
seen his dad like this before—his usually
quiet and introspective father now a
whirlwind of raw emotion. Karen's grip on
his shoulder tightened, a silent warning to
tread carefully.
"No, Chip," she began, her voice firm
but calm. "Autism isn't an illness. It's not
something Daddy can just turn off or ignore."
But Plankton's fury was unyielding. He
stood up, his entire body trembling with
the intensity of his anger. "You think I'm
a burden?" he shouted, his voice
shaking the very air around them.
Karen's eyes flashed with a protective
flame, her grip on Chip's shoulder
becoming almost painful. "Chip, you need
to apologize to your father," she said, her
voice leaving no room for argument.
Chip looked up at her, his own anger
building. "Why? I just want a dad who's
normal!" His voice was laced with
frustration and hurt. "Why can't he just be
like everyone else's dads or else leave?"
The words hung in the air like a toxic
cloud, heavy with ableism and pain.
Karen's face fell, her heart breaking for
Plankton. "Chip, that's not fair," she said,
her voice a mix of disappointment and
sadness. "Your dad can't just change who
he is because you don't understand."
Plankton's face was a storm of emotion.
He looked from Karen to Chip, his anger
fading to something deeper, something
more profound. It was the look of a man
whose entire world had just been questioned
by the person he loved most. "You think I'm
not good enough?" he whispered, his voice
shaking with barely contained hurt.
Karen's eyes filled with tears, her heart
breaking for her husband. "Chip, that's
not what you meant," she began, but Plankton
cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"Let him speak," he said, his voice
deflated. "Let him say what he really
thinks." His gaze was unblinking, a challenge
in his eye that Chip didn't quite understand.
Karen took a deep breath, her heart
breaking for the both of them. "Chip," she
started, her voice steady despite her
tears. "You know we love your dad just the way
he is, right?"
But Chip's anger and confusion were
like a dam that had burst. "Yeah, but why
does he have to be like this?" he demanded.
"Why don't you just get me a better dad?"
The words were like a slap in the face, and
Plankton's eye widened in shock.
Karen's grip on Chip's shoulder tightened,
but she didn't say a word. She knew this was
something Chip had to work through on his own.
"Better?" Plankton's voice
was hollow, echoing
the emptiness in Chip's
heart. "What makes
a 'better' dad, Chip?"
Chip's cheeks flushed with
embarrassment and anger.
"One who can play with me
without getting stuck
like a broken toy!" he shot back.
"Even Mom doesn't want you
around when you're like that!"
The accusation hung in the
air like a sword, slicing through
the tension.
Plankton's antennas drooped, his
eye reflecting a deep hurt that
Chip couldn't comprehend. "Is that
what you think, Karen?" he
asked, his voice barely audible.
Karen's eyes snapped to Chip,
her expression a mix of anger
and sorrow. "That's not what
anyone thinks, Chip," she said firmly.
"Your dad is a wonderful person.
And he's the only dad you've got."
But Chip's frustration had
taken over. "Yeah, well, maybe
you should've picked
a dad who actually deserves
to be here," he spat, his words
dripping with accusation. "May
be we'd be happier if we could
just start over without
the 'autistic' baggage and get
someone who doesn't need to
be babysat all the time. Or better
yet, maybe we should just get rid
of him." His voice was harsh,
his thoughts racing in a whirlwind
of pain and confusion.
The room fell silent, the air thick
with the tension of unspoken truths
and misunderstood pain. Karen's
hands were trembling, her eyes
filled with a mix of anger and
hurt. "Chip, you can't say things like that,"
she managed to choke out, her voice
barely above a whisper.
Plankton's expression was
unreadable, his body rigid with the
weight of his son's accusations.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his
voice devoid of emotion. "Do you
wish I was gone?"
Karen's grip tightened on Chip's
shoulder, her eyes flashing with
anger and hurt. "Chip, that's
enough!" she exclaimed. "You don't
mean that!"
But Chip's rage was like a wildfire,
spreading uncontrollably.
"Maybe we would!" Chip shouted,
his voice echoing through the room.
He didn't know where these words
were coming from, but they felt like
a release from the pressure cooker
of his thoughts. "Maybe if you weren't
around, we could be a real family! Even
Mom wouldn't have to pretend
everything's okay all the time, because
she's too nice to go out and get a
husband instead of being a burden
she has to take care of like a parasite!"
The moment the words left his mouth,
Chip felt a deep pang of regret. But the
damage was done. Karen's hand flew
to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
Plankton's antennas quivered, his face
white as a sheet.