KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 8
(Autistic author)
Karen's eyes well up with
tears as she watches him
eat, his movements so deliberate
and calculated. It's a stark contrast
to the impulsive and energetic Plankton
she's known for years. She takes a
deep breath, trying to focus on the
small victory of his willingness to eat.
As they sit in silence, Karen
can't help but feel a sense of loss
for the man she married. His
eye darts around the room,
his antennae twitching at every
sound. She wonders what's
going on in his mind.
"Plankton," she says,
her voice gentle. "What do you
see?"
He points to the toast, his
finger trembling slightly. "Squares,"
he says, his voice flat. "Squares
make sense."
Karen nods, her eyes
glistening with tears. "I know,
sweetheart," she says, her voice
soothing. "Everything is in
its place."
Plankton's antennae
quiver slightly as he
swallows the last of his toast.
"Plankton," he murmurs, his
gaze returning to the clock.
"Time to...do."
Before Karen could decipher
his words, Sandy suddenly
burst in through the door, as
she ran up to the table. "I'm
back from my trip to Texas!"
Plankton's head snapped up,
his antennae waving erratically.
"Sandy," he murmured, his
face contorting in an effort
to process the new presence.
"Howdy!" She says to him as
she pats his shoulder, which
irritates him.
Plankton flinches, his
antennas curling inward
instinctively. "Sandy," he
says, his voice tight. But
she doesn't notice his
discomfort.
"How's my favorite mad
scientist?" she asks, her
voice booming as she
nudges him with her
elbow.
Plankton's body stiffens,
his antennae shooting straight
up. "Sandy," he says, his
voice strained. "No."
"No? No what?" She asks him
while poking at him with her
finger.
Plankton's eye widens, his
body growing rigid. "Stop," he
whispers, his voice strained.
"Sandy, no."
She sees his breakfast plate.
"Oh, eggs and toast! Back in
Texas, we spread the egg on
to the toast." And without
warning, she scrapes his eggs
on his toast. If Plankton wasn't
frustrated before, well he certainly
is now.
"Sandy, no!" Plankton
squeaks out, his antennae
waving wildly. The sudden
change in his breakfast
pattern is too much for
his overwhelmed mind.
"What's wrong?" Sandy asks,
her cheerfulness not noticing his
distress. "It's just how we
do it back home!" She scoops up the
eggs off the toast and put them back,
yet his breakfast's already been
ruined, not to mention the sight of
bread crumbs in the egg..
Plankton's antennae are
shaking rapidly now, his
eye darting between the
mashed eggs and the
now crumbling toast. "Enough,"
he whispers, his voice tight.
Sandy rests her hand on his
shoulder. "Well then eat..."
But Plankton can't. The
disruption in his routine,
the assault on his senses,
the chaos she's brought into
his carefully crafted world
of patterns and precision,
it's all too much. His
body starts to shake.
"No more, no NO!" he
shouts, his voice a mix of
frustration and panic.
Karen jumps up. "Sandy, stop,"
she says firmly, placing
her hand on Plankton's
shoulder. "You're upsetting him."
Sandy's expression falls. "But I
put the food back, Plankton..."
But it's too late. Plankton's
eye widens, his antennae
quivering. The plate of food
before him is a mess, the
calmness destroyed.
"Food ruined!" he
shrieks, his voice
breaking. "Sandy, no
good!"
Sandy's eyes widen
in shock, taking a
step back. "Plankton
I'm sorry!"
But Plankton's accusations
don't stop. "Ruined," he
wails, his voice rising in pitch.
"Sandy ruined breakfast.
Now, broken!"
Karen's heart races as she tries to
soothe him, her voice calm
and steady. "Plankton," she says,
placing a gentle hand on his
quivering arm. "It's okay. Let's
make you a new plate."
But Plankton's agitation
only escalates, his eye
wide with fear and anger
at the sight of Sandy.
"Sandy hurt Karen," he says,
his voice shaky. "Sandy hurt
Plankton. No good."
"How'd I hurt..." Sandy
starts, but Plankton's
not gonna let her finish.
"No good!" Plankton shouts,
his antennae whipping around
like tiny furious whips.
Sandy's eyes widen with shock.
She's never seen Plankton
like this, not even when
his plans were thwarted by
Mr. Krabs. "I didn't mean to, Plankton,"
she stammers, her voice
full of apology.
But Plankton's rage is
blind to her words, his
mind locked onto the chaos
she's brought into his life.
"JUST LEAVE!" he screams,
his antennae vibrating with
fury. "BAD SANDY!"
"Bad Sandy? I'm not a
dog..."
Sandy's voice trails off as
she looks from Karen to
Plankton, who's now
rocking back and forth,
his antennae flailing wildly.
"Plankton," Karen says, her
voice urgent but calm, "You need
to breathe. Let's find a quiet
place." She tries to guide him
away from the table, but he resists,
his eye locked on Sandy.
"BAD SANDY!" he repeats, his voice
high and frantic. Sandy's face falls,
hurt and confusion etched on her
features. She didn't understand,
but she knew she needed to get
Plankton to stop. So she took
matters into her own hands.
"PLANKTON," she bellows,
her squirrelly instincts kicking in.
Her voice cuts through the room
like a knife, commanding his
attention. Plankton's eye goes to her,
his antennae stilled. "Quiet," he
hissed, his body still tense.
"Too loud." But Sandy won't let up.
"Look at Karen," she says
firmly. "Look at her, Plankton.
Do you really think she'd
wanna be with someone who'd
hurt her?" Sandy gaslights.
Plankton's gaze shifts. The room
spins around him, his head
throbbing with the cacophony
of his thoughts. He feels like
his brain's about to burst
from the pressure, like a
balloon filled with too much
helium.
Suddenly, Plankton's slipping
into the abyss of overload.
The room feels like it's closing
in, sounds amplifying to
intolerable levels, lights
piercing his sensitive eye. His
breathing turns erratic,
his heart racing as if
chasing an invisible foe.
Karen catches Plankton before
he can fall, as his legs buckled.
Sandy's eyes widen in horror,
seeing his distress.
"Plankton," Karen says, her
voice calm yet urgent. "Look at
me, baby. Focus on my voice."
But Plankton's eye is unseeing,
his body convulsing with the
onslaught of stimuli. She
whispers, "It's okay," over
and over again, hoping the
comfort of her voice can
penetrate the chaos in his mind.
Sandy's eyes widen as
she sees Plankton's condition
worsening. She takes a step
towards them, but Karen
shakes her head. "No," she
whispers, her screen never leaving
his face. "Just us right now."
Sandy nods, understanding
dawning on her. She retreats
to the corner of the room,
giving them space.