A few minutes later, a chorus of laughter and shouting greeted me as I rounded the trees and bushes that outlined the park. I immediately zeroed in on him. With his back to me, Shaw pointed with his uninjured arm as he shouted at a group of boys running up and down the field. I quickened my step until I stood beside him, scanning the area for Aaron. Where was he? I looked over at the benches.
Shaw stepped away and onto their makeshift field. “Hey, okay. Come here, and let me explain this better.” He motioned the four boys over.
I was prepared for him to lie to me about Aaron when I saw his good hand land on my son’s shoulder. He was one of the four boys, and he was holding the football.
“Jacob, after you hand off the ball to Aaron…” Shaw's voice faded out as he squatted down and, at that level, was practically eye to eye with them as he pointed out plays, the boys following his instruction with rapt attention. “Okay, let’s try that again.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Shaw,” the boys said in unison and smiled at him with stars in their eyes.
Aaron caught my eye and became hesitant. He hugged the football close to his chest and stood by Shaw, as if he would block for him if he had to run from me.
What the heck?
I walked toward them, finally gaining their attention. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”
My son didn’t play football. He didn’t play sports at all.
Shaw’s smile was uncertain. “Hey, Kelce. You’re here. I guess I lost track of time. Sorry about that.”
“We’re playing football,” Aaron said with force, squeezing the football closer to his chest.
I clasped my hands together and tried to ease my tone. “I can see that.”
“We were out for a walk, and the boys came over to say hi,” Shaw tried to explain.
“They’re boys from my class. They know Shaw is a big football star.”
“They were throwing the football around—” Shaw continued.
“And they wanted him to throw with them, but he can’t because of his injury. So, I did. They let me play instead.”
And there went my heart, broken in two.
I swear pieces of my heart broke so often for my boy and his pure, painful words each day. It was amazing I had anything left of it at all.
I took a deep breath through my nose, willing the tears not to appear.
Aaron rarely got asked to play or join other kids. The cadence of his voice, the volume he spoke at, the quirkiness of his interaction, and the topics he chose to discuss were all different from those of most kids. Some were still young enough not to mind it, but older ones, who’d rather die than be associated with someone “weird” …they were usually cruel and ostracizing, as if being seen with someone “different” would condemn them to social Siberia.
I nodded.
One of the boys called Aaron’s name.
“Why don’t you work on that play I showed you guys?” Shaw said and waved Aaron off in the other boys’ direction.
I tracked Aaron as he ran to the boys, still clutching the football to his chest.
Shaw stared down at his feet, poking at the ground with his shoe. “Kelce?”
I watched my boy interact with the other kids, relinquishing the ball to one of them and lining up for the snap. Tears finally came as I saw him act like a neurotypical preteen.
“Kelcie, did I screw up? You have that look, like I did something stupid.”
I shook my head. “I—” There was a slight hitch, and I cleared my throat. “No. You didn’t?—”
He gestured at Aaron, who took the ball and completed a jet sweep, dodging the other boys and avoiding their touch before running into the imaginary touchdown zone.
Shaw began to cheer, and I clapped for him.
