CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS iv
(Autistic Author)
With Chip's curiosity still piqued, Karen
leads the way to Plankton's bedroom.
She knows her husband needs time to
process his own feelings, but she also
knows that Chip's desire to understand
is genuine. As they approach and crack
open the door, they see Plankton in the
bed on his back. He's asleep, the only
sound in the room being soft snores.
The room is dimly lit, with only the glow
of a nightlight casting a gentle hue
across his face. His antennae still, and
his body is relaxed, a stark contrast to
the tension that had consumed him
earlier. Chip looks at his dad with a mix
of fear and curiosity, unsure of what to
do or say.
Karen motions for Chip to come closer,
her eyes never leaving Plankton's
peaceful form.
"Look," she whispers, her hand hovering
over Plankton's shoulder. "You can
touch him like this."
Karen's hand lightly brushes against
Plankton's arm, her touch as soft as a
feather. Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he doesn't wake up. His
snoring doesn't change, but she can feel
the tension in his muscles ease slightly.
"You see?" she murmurs. "Just a way of
saying 'I'm here, and I love you' without
overwhelming him."
Chip nods, his eyes glued to the
demonstration. His small hand reaches
out tentatively, mimicking the gentle
strokes Karen had shown him.
Plankton's body relaxes further, and
Karen feels a glimmer of hope.
"Just like that," she whispers, her hand
guiding Chip's. "It's all about being
gentle and understanding. And when
he's ready, he'll show you his love in his
own way."
Chip nods, his eyes never leaving
Plankton's sleeping form. He's trying so
hard to be strong, but Karen can see the
fear and confusion in the way his little
hands tremble.
"Ok, let's go," she whispers, leading
Chip out of the room. "We'll give him
some time to rest. And when he wakes
up, we'll talk to him again."
In the hallway, Chip's questions come in
a rush. "But what do we say? What do
we do?"
Karen crouches down to meet his gaze,
her expression serious. "We're going to
keep trying, okay?" she says, wiping a
tear from his cheek. "We'll learn together
how to be there for Daddy without
making him feel overwhelmed."
Chip nods, his voice a whisper. "I don't
want to make him mad," he says, his
eyes filling with fear.
"You didn't make him mad," Karen
reassures him, her voice calm. "You just
surprised him. And it's okay to be
surprised. But now we know how to
handle it better."
Later in the early evening, Karen hears
Plankton's footsteps as he makes his
way back into the living room.
The room is still, the only sound the soft
ticking of the grandfather clock in the
corner. Plankton’s antennae are still, his
eye no longer flashing so much with
anger. He looks at Karen and Chip, who
are sitting on the couch.
“Hey, buddy,” Karen says, her voice
tentative but hopeful. “How are you
feeling?”
Plankton sighs heavily, his antennae
drooping slightly. “Tired,” he admits, his
voice gruff. “But somewhat better.”
Chip looks up at his father.
“Hey, Dad,” he says softly.
Plankton’s eye flicks to him, then back to
the floor. “Chip,” he responds, his voice
flat but almost sounding surprised.
Karen sees the opening she’s been
waiting for and jumps in. “Why don’t you
sit with us, Plankton?” she suggests,
patting the cushion next to her.
After a moment's hesitation, Plankton
lowers himself onto the couch, his
antennae dropping slightly in defeat. He
doesn’t look at either of them, focusing
instead on the floorboards. Karen takes
a deep breath, her heart racing with a
mix of hope and trepidation.
Karen takes a deep breath, her hand
reaching for Chip's. "Chip found a cool
rock at the park today."
Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, and
he looks up at Chip. "A rock, huh?" he
asks, his tone neutral.
"Yeah," Chip says, his voice small. "It's
got all these cool colors, like the ocean."
He holds out the rock, a silent peace
offering.
Plankton looks at the rock, his eye
narrowing slightly as he takes it. His
antennae twitch, but there's a glimmer of
something else in his gaze—interest,
maybe, or a hint of softness. He turns it
over in his hand, inspecting it. "It's...
nice," he murmurs.
Karen squeezes Chip's hand, her heart
swelling with hope. Maybe, just maybe,
this could be the start of something new.
"Why don't you tell him more about it?"
she prompts gently.
"It's got these little specks that sparkle in
the light," he says, his voice gaining a bit
of excitement. "I think it's a special rock."
Plankton looks. "It is," he says, his voice
a little less gruff.
He looks at Karen, his eye searching
hers. She nods encouragingly.
“How was your day?” Plankton asks, his
voice tentative.
“It was okay,” Chip replies, still
focused on the rock.
“Just okay?” Plankton asks, his
antennae lifting slightly.
Chip nods, his gaze shifting to his dad.
Chip sniffs.
Plankton sets the rock down on the
coffee table with a gentle thud, his
antennae twitching with concern. “What,
son?”
Karen’s heart skips a beat, hoping this
small act of kindness is a step towards a
more open conversation.
Chip's eyes dart between his parents,
unsure how much to share. Karen gives
him a nod of encouragement.
“It was just a bit... scary at the park
today,” Chip admits, his voice shaky.
“Remember when we talked after the
park?” Karen reminds him gently.
Plankton’s antennae droop, and he
nods, visibly trying to control his
emotions. “Yes,” he murmurs. “I
remember.”
“Chip didn’t mean to upset you,” Karen
says, her voice gentle. “He just wanted
to understand what was happening. He’s
curious, like all kids are. And when he
saw you like that, he was scared. He
just wanted to make sure you were okay
and to help if he could.”
“Hm.” Plankton says neutrally.
Karen takes a deep breath and
continues. “Chip’s been asking me a lot
of questions, and I think it’s important we
talk to him about yo...”
Plankton sighs. "You know I hate talking
about it."
Karen nods. "I know," she says, her
voice soothing. "But Chip's worried
about you. He loves you, and he wants
to know how he can help."
Chip looks up at his dad, his eyes wide
and earnest. "I just want you to be
happy," he says, his voice trembling.
Karen squeezes Plankton's hand, her
voice gentle. "Chip wants to know what's
going on with you, Plankton," she says.
"He's not trying to be nosy or annoying.
He's trying to understand what to do or
not do."
Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods
slowly. "I know," he murmurs. "It's just..."
Karen's eyes are filled with
understanding. "It's hard to be
vulnerable, I know," she says. "But we
need to help our son understand."
Plankton looks at Chip, his expression
unreadable. "Okay," he says finally. "I'll
talk to him."
Chip's eyes light up, hope shining
through his tears. "Really?"
"Really," Plankton says with a sigh, his
antennae relaxing slightly. "But it's going
to be on my terms, okay?"
Karen nods. "Of course."
Plankton takes a deep breath, his
antennae drooping slightly as he steels
himself for the conversation. "So, Chip,"
he says, his voice a little softer. "You
know how sometimes you get really,
really tired and need to sit down and
rest?"
Chip nods eagerly, his eyes fixed on his
father's face. "Yeah, I know that feeling,"
he says.
"Well, it's
kind of like that," he says. "But for me,
it's not just about being tired. It's like my
brain needs a little break sometimes.
And when it does, I might not be able to
talk or move for a bit."
Chip nods, his grip on Karen's hand
loosening as he listens intently. "But why
don't you tell us when you need a
break?" he asks.
"Sometimes, it happens too fast for me
to say anything," Plankton explains. "It's
like my brain just decides to take a little
vacation without asking permission."
Karen's filled with a mix of pride and
sadness as she watches her son and
husband finally discussing this openly.
"So, when you get like that," Chip says,
his voice tentative, "is it like you're in a
dream?"
Plankton glances at him, his antennae
still. "In a way, yes," he says slowly. "It's
like I'm not really here, but I can still
sense."
Chip nods, his curiosity unabated. "What
do you sense?"
Plankton takes a moment to consider his
words. "I can still hear, but without
comprehending," he says, "and feel
things around me, but it's like... like
everything's muffled, and I'm watching
from far away."
Chip looks thoughtful. "Can you tell
when it's happening?"
Plankton nods, his antennae lifting
slightly. "Sometimes," he admits. "But
not always."