A Tight Work of Incohesive Genius

            by Kyle Tuominen

 

The water runs down the side of the shower as I slowly step into the steamy void. The water runs down my body and I watch the blades of grass slide off my legs and twirl down the drain. Holy crap, those kids have more energy than I ever imagined somebody could have. I'm sore as sore as I have ever been and I promised these kids that I would help again tomorrow. I gotta figure out a way to get back in shape. I climb out the shower, grab a towel and open the door. The steam billows out of the bathroom as it hits the cold air on the outside of the room. I walk through the mist and into my brightly lit room and plop on my bed.

I think back to what actually drove me to take on this task. I remember my neighbor, Rosemary asking me to coach her son’s soccer team. At the time it sounded like a great idea, especially because I already tutored her son and I loved kids. Looking back on it now I don’t actually regret the decision but it still seems like I should have thought about the implications beforehand. As I rub more Tiger Balm onto my aching legs and feel searing pain once I hit a nerve. The acrid smell of the balm fills the air and I try in vain to blow the smell away.

I know the effort is futile but it seems to epitomize my night. The night started off well enough with the drills going smoothly for the first half hour. Then suddenly the kids started getting bored and decided that they would have more fun kicking the balls at the other coaches and I. They started off with that and eventually moved onto more rebellious acts including running away from practice, sitting down in the field and licking the balls. I never thought in my entire life I would actually see somebody pick up a clearly dirty ball, covered in mud and then lick it on purpose. But then again, clearly, what do I know?

Well, at least now you know what to expect. Right? I mean it can’t get any worse than this can it? Holy crap, what if it does? I have no idea what I will do if it gets worse, but I know I will be bad. Ok, just relax, wait until next week and see what that brings you and then you can pass judgment on this whole situation.

The following week I finally met every kid’s parents and discovered why the kids were so hard to coach. The parents explained to me that every child had their own different form of autism and that the parents had decided to form their own soccer team for their kids. The described the past injustices that affected their kids and I realized how very little I actually knew about this disease. I looked at every single kid differently from that practice on, because I recognized how hard their lives actually were and that every day was a struggle for them. I also looked at their parents with a new level of respect as I took on the task of passing out the brand new balls. The kids pounced on each ball as if it contained a secret treasure that was just waiting to be kicked out from inside the ball. I glanced up the field and noticed a group of three kids and two parents coming up the field and I jogged over to meet them and make sure they were actually in the right place since I hadn’t seen them at the last practice. I could see the father was clearly exhausted and he spoke to me in a thick Peruvian accent as he spoke the best English he could as he explained that his sons were part of the team. The children clearly knew what they were doing as they dribbled the ball between themselves. The other kids stopped what they were doing and stared as if it was some magical illusion or a stunt of some kind.

Even I stared in amazement as these kids exhibited their skills. The other coaches, all parents of participating kids, and I stood in a group off to the side and watched the kids as they took turns shooting on the goal. We decided to start with drills and what seemed like a simple request befuddled the kids and it became anarchy for about two minutes until the coaches and I were able to herd the children into 2 lines. We explained the kids should take turns passing the ball and watched as they did the best they could. All of us coaches recognized that we would probably lose every game we played, but it was incredible because none of the kids seemed to care. They were having more fun than any other team I could see practicing. I thought back to my young sports teams and understood that I never really had complete unrestrained fun. I was always on the all-star team and always the star of my team. Although at the time it seemed like a really cool thing, as I looked back on it I kind of regretted not being able to just have fun. Watching these kids I understood what people meant when they said that having fun was the most important thing. We wrapped up practice after a shooting drill and as I was walking off the field a parent came jogging up to me. He was in his 40’s, and had a huge smile on his face as he called after me. “You know, my son has the time of his life out here and I just want to thank you for helping him”

“It’s not a problem, trust me your son is a lot fun and you are lucky to have such a dedicated kid” I thought back to the time the kid had accidentally hit me in the face with a ball and added, “And he has pretty good aim, judging from his shot on my face” Chuckling, He seemed to brighten up and explained that his son had only recently been diagnosed with autism and that this soccer team seemed to brighten up the rest of his kid’s week. He said that his kid told him that the soccer helped him relax and understand there was more to life than his disease.

            I watched the kids pile into the minivans with their parents as they were whisked away. I sat in the grass because I didn’t want to go home and because I felt like staying at he field. Eventually, my neighbor came to pick up her son and saw me laying the grass. “You ok?” She appeared very concerned. I tried to assuage her fears but it seemed to only worry her more. She offered to take me to ice cream and I jumped at the offer of a free break from the chaos that I call my life. I scrambled into their car and sat back as the car rumbled to life and turned corner after corner until we reached an out of the way Baskin Robbins. I tried to reach for the door but her three kids, including the soccer player, bolted out the door like crazed chimps and made a beeline for the door.

            They raced each other to the door and I felt a certain sense of satisfaction knowing that at one point in my life I was the exact same way. Things have really changed since then. I remember when I used to race my sisters to the ice cream truck, or when my dad would take me to ice cream after my hockey games. Holy shit, I used to be exactly like these kids. I sat in wonderment as I came to this conclusion and was clearly startled when my neighbor asked me what type of ice cream I wanted. “Chocolate chip cookie dough please” “thank you,” I added quickly. I continued to ponder my own thoughts until the kids came up to me and invited me to play a game of tag. Seeing this as an opportunity to have some fun and be worry free. I quickly got up. Following them over to the adjoining park, I noticed that they were clearly unaware of their surroundings as they came within inches of falling into the fountain or tripping over large boulders. But that’s what makes them kids. They don’t have to worry about a sprained ankle or a scratched knee. Because they know their mom will always take care of them. They haven’t had the opportunity to be hurt by their parents yet, they still trust them whole-heartedly.

I continued to play tag until the ice cream was ready and darted over to the table to plop down and eat ice cream like the little kid I felt like. I watched in amazement as the naïve kids wolfed down the ice cream. They soon got the symptoms of what everyone dreads, brain freeze. They started crying and yelling to their mom about how much it hurt. Their mom came over and patted their heads and told them that drinking their milk would help with the brain freeze. The kids gulped down the milk and sat there, content. Shit, I didn’t know that milk stopped brain freezes. I have gotta remember that for the next time I get one. Damn, I wish I had known that growing up though. That woulda been tight to be able to stop all those dreaded brain freezes. WE finished the ice cream and the kids resumed their tag but this time they kept it in the shop as their mom went to the bathroom. I tried to stop them or at least contain them but to no avail. The kids darted around the room like hummingbirds and soon, just as I had expected, one could be heard crying amid a clatter of metal chairs. Holy shit, this is NOT what I need. Their mom is gonna kill me. Why did I let them run around? I should have just told them to sit down instead of trying to be the nice guy. Damnitt! I whirled around and noticed the youngest son Patrick on the floor bawling with a scratch the size of a fingernail on his knee. I was amazed by the fact that this kid found this injury to be so heinous and walked over to try to calm him down. I bent down to pick up the chairs around him and found the entire room staring at me as I stood up again. “Patty, come on you gotta stand up, ok?” He ignored me and continued his assault on everyone’s ears and I felt compelled to do something. I picked him up and brought him outside and stood him up. He looked up at me ion a state of wonderment that his knee still worked and then darted off again, this time across to the park to join his brothers. With that situation taken care of I went back inside to clean up our trash on the table and found his mother sitting there. “You just did an amazing job. I can never get him to stop crying. Good Job” “Thanks Rosemary but you know, its just luck” “Well whatever it was, you are going to be a great parent.” She crossed the room and went outside and hollered to the kids to come back to the car. The kids initially ignored her, but as she threatened to take away their playstation and TV, they scampered back like dogs with their tails between their legs. Panting but resigned to the fact that they were under their mom’s control.

            Jesus, they actually understand that their mom is serious and she isn’t afraid to punish them. I never actually understood that. I always though my mom was bluffing and she would never punish me. I thought of punishments as a sign that my mom didn’t love me and that might explain why we have so many differences.

We climbed into the car and Patrick demanded we put on his Barney cassette. Rosemary shoved the tape into the machine and turned up the volume as if to drown out any sounds that might come from the backseat. She turned to me and yelled above the music, “Kyle, Thanks for the help today. It was a nice break from having to deal with them all on my own.” “No problem Rosemary.”

            I couldn’t resist the urge to ask her the question that was burning in my mind and so I launched ahead. “So Rosemary, does milk actually cure Brain freezes?” She laughed as she responded; “Nope but it sure made them believe it” I couldn’t believe how smart she was and sat stunned and vowed to remember this lesson for my kids.

            I got home, immediately my mom was on my tail to get my chores and homework done. I just felt like watching TV and making sure that I got to relax after the stressful practice and ice cream trip. I started to lie down in front of the TV and she got up in my face and started yelling at me.

“Kyle John Tuominen you are not going to watch TV. You WILL do your chores right FUCKING NOW!!” Her face got redder as her voice got louder and by the end of her tirade she had become out of breath as her anger consumed her like a fireball.

“Mom, you already told me before I left that I had to get my chores done by the end of the night, not the moment I got home. I had a pretty stressful night and I really don’t need you yelling at me for no good reason” I tried to keep my cool but I knew that if this argument continued it would end just as every fight recently, with me on the porch locked out for the night. I started to walk away and she grabbed my arm. I froze, I felt like a cage animal that was being taunted. I turned to my mom and gave her my best steely stare,

“Get your fuckin hand off my arm, right fuckin now” I realized that cursing wasn’t going to help the situation but as I realized it I had already spurted the words out of my mouth. She turned to me in shock as if it amazed her that I knew such a vile word. That’s right I fuckin said it. What are you gonna do now? This type of thinking always got me in trouble so I grabbed her arm and ripped it off my arm and stormed off up to my room.

I sat on my bed trying to calm down and slow my breathing as the world resumed to normal and the Tuominen household was returned to normal. I couldn’t handle the fact that after every one of these arguments that everyone tried to act like everything was O.K. why cant people realize that there are some serious problems with this family? Am I crazy or is this abnormal? As if one cue, my dad called from his latest business trip and asked me how everything was going.

“Fine” I lied. Deep down I knew that if I told him the truth it would hurt him that his family was being torn down from the foundation up, just as happened in his childhood. “But I’m sure you will get a different story from mom” I added quickly in a lame attempt to cover up my lie.

“What the hell happened Kyle? Did you two get in a fight again?” His voice was stern and I could just imagine him, in his hotel room, clenching his fists and furious that he would now have to deal with this mess instead of focusing on his love, work.

“Don’t worry about it Dad, its normal by now” Before he even responded I realized how awful our family was. The one statement seemed to epitomize my family’s dysfunction and the abnormalities that come with it. “I gotta go, I have homework to do. I love you though Dad” I cut him off just as he had started to make a rebuttal to my statement and I knew that he felt hurt. “Honestly, dad you are a great dad. I can’t wait for you to get home. Love ya,” I added more to relieve my guilt rather than to make him feel better.

I hung up the phone as he told me he loved me and that he hoped things would get better. Things wont get better. They never do, with this family nothing makes a lick of difference. Fuck, I have like 3 years left of this bullshit. How the fuck do other kids do it? Do other kids have these fucking problems? I doubt it. My family is full of people who can’t do a thing to help others beside themselves. I walked downstairs, out the back door, past the pool, and up the stairs leading to the park behind my backyard. All of a sudden I froze because I realized I could hear my neighbors.

“Don’t fall in Patty” Rosemary called after him. 

“I no worry mommy, I will be find” Patty responded in his typical stuttered but cute fashion.

Rosemary laughed and I started to cry. Why can't my mom and I be like that? What is it that keeps us apart? Were we ever like that? Why the fuck does my mom have to do so much, that she never spends time with us kids? The questions raced through my head as I stumbled up the steps. My vision now blurred from tears, I stripped on one stair and landed face first in the cement and immediately felt the flow of blood from my nose and the taste of blood on my mouth.

“Oh my god Kyle. What happened” My mom bounded up the steps and crouched next to me. “Aww, you poor baby, I was watching you from the kitchen. Are you Ok?” I couldn’t really answer because as I later found out, I had one of my three concussions of my life. Even without words however, I realized something that night. I realized that no matter what differences come up, or what argument you might get into, the people who truly love you will always come back for you. I lay on the stairs as my mom patted my head and I looked into her eyes and she nodded. She didn’t need to say it, that was her apology and it meant the world to me. “Love ya mom”

“Aww, I love you too buddy”