Brogress (2)

The next day, I'm feeling a little less sore. We grab what little money Nick has managed to save up over the years and head outside after eating breakfast.

"Don't argue with any more Nobles, you hear?"

"Got it!" I respond to Vincent as I close the door behind me.

The mid-morning suns are shining brightly in the sky. A cool breeze whispers of the approaching fall season.

I start walking toward the town square as most of the commerce takes place there.

So, what do you want to get your parents?

[I don't know.]

Well, what do they like?

[I don't know.]

What? Then what are we supposed to get them?

[I thought you would figure it out.]

I throw my hands up in exasperation.

How would I know what to get them? I don't know the first thing about your parents.

[Well, Dad reads a lot and Mom likes cooking I think.]

You think? Come on man, you should know your parents better than that.

The kid pulls back and sulks after I berate him. I rub my eyes with my hands as I try to calm down.

Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Let's just go to the town square and see what's available.

[Okay.]

I feel a little bad because he still sounds a little sad so I try to change the subject.

So, what kind of stores are around here?

Before I get an answer, I notice Kyle and his goons surrounding a boy by the fountain. I walk towards them to see what's going on.

[Maybe we should stay away from them?]

Nonsense, now's the perfect time to talk. How would you feel if you kick the crap out of someone and then they walk up to you the next day with a smile on their face? A little unnerving right?

[Yeah, I guess. My arm still hurts.]

I know, it's my arm too. Don't worry, if they start anything I'll run this time.

[If you say so.]

The kid obviously doesn't believe me but I continue undeterred.

"Hey Kyle, what's going on?" I walk up to the goon squad and see them picking on a boy playing with stones.

"What the hell do you want?" Kyle sneers. It seems not much has changed since yesterday.

"Is this your friend here?" I ask while pointing at the boy on the ground.

"This idiot? He's not my friend. Come on, guys, let's get out of here." Kyle leaves with his gang but the taller boy I saw laughing yesterday stays behind. He stands in front of me while peering down at me as if he were observing garbage.

"Can I help you?"

"I've been watching you." The tall boy frowns as he speaks to me. He has long, messy black hair that drapes over his shoulders and a black robe. He looks vaguely like a younger version of Severus Snape.

"That's a weird way to start a conversation," I respond.

"I don't see any reason to engage in pleasantries with you."

"Clearly. Also, who are you?"

"My name is Tyrion. I'm the third son of Baron Armon Reynolds."

"Cool, that sounds important."

"You didn't act like this last week." He says, ignoring my remark.

"What can I say? People change."

"No, they don't." And with that Tyrion turns and walks away.

What a strange guy.

[He's scary.]

He might just be.

I watch Tyrion walk away until he rounds a corner and disappears. My stomach turns as I think about the disquieting conversation. Something about that guy makes me anxious.

I do my best to brush off the incident and turn to look at the boy who was being picked on.

He's stocky for his age, maybe eleven or twelve, and fairly tall. I'm sure those kids would think twice about picking on him if he bothered defending himself. I approach him and try to get his attention.

"Hey, man."

"..." The boy ignores me and just keeps playing with stones on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

"…" Again, no response. He doesn't even glance in my direction. I look down at the stones the boy is playing with; they're scattered all around, probably due to Kyle's interference. He's reaching around and collecting them up to make a series of concentric circles. I gather up some of the stones and help him finish his design. Some of the stones I place are moved by the boy for one reason or another, but after making five increasingly larger circles he stops, seemingly satisfied. After admiring his work for a while, he turns to me.

"Thanks," he says, still looking at the ground. He stands up and walks away without saying anything else.

"Hey, wait! What's your name?" I cry.

He saunters off in the opposite direction of my house instead of responding.

[That was weird, he didn't say much.]

Yeah, he's probably autistic or something. It must be really hard for him.

[Artistic?]

Autistic. It's a neurodivergent disorder. From my understanding, people with autism have difficulty sorting through sensory information. This means they can get easily overwhelmed.

[So they have super senses?]

It's not that they can hear better than me and you but as if every sound they heard was really loud.

[I don't really understand.]

That's okay. What's important to remember is that autistic people tend to avoid eye contact, dislike unnecessary physical contact, and can usually only relax when they are focused on something they find interesting.

The kid quietly thinks over my words and I look around at nearby stores. We still need to get a gift for his parents but I can't think of anything they'd like. I'm sure Carroll will be overjoyed no matter what we get her but Vincent seems more difficult to please.

We head to a ceramics shop and then a magic shop but we don't see anything Vincent would want. Eventually, we decided to just get some fruit for dessert tonight. This means we need to interact with the fruit stand girl again so I try to get a feel for what the kid wants to do.

Do you want to talk to her?

[...]

How about we go for a run and grab the fruit on the way back?

[...Okay.]

Great! You're up. Give it all you got.

[Um, actually, why don't we get the fruit and go home?]

No turning back now! Start running!

I can hear the kid whimpering quietly to himself as he starts the first lap, which brings a big smile to my face. This is what change looks like.