Unlocked : a Love Story Part 13

Nothing. No response. Holden didn't see anything but the cars in the box, or the car in his hand, for that matter. Meticulously, almost trancelike, he reached for another car and added it to the long line. b.u.mper to b.u.mper in the wildest, uncanny pattern. Green car, red car, blue car, yellow car, truck ... green car, red car, blue car, yellow car, truck ... green car - The sameness of his pattern was astonis.h.i.+ng. Ella watched him for a few seconds then she laughed, but it sounded more like a cry, like she would do anything to get him to join her. The way he used to.

"Why doesn't he talk to her?" Suzanne couldn't understand. Holden's hearing worked. He loved Ella ... but he was ignoring her. She turned to Tracy. "Have you tried forcing him to respond? I mean, maybe this is a late case of the Terrible Twos. You know, like he's trying to exert his independence."

Suzanne remembered her words and she winced at the way they sounded replayed this many years later. But again, what could she possibly have known or understood about autism. Holden did seem rebellious or defiant, like if one of them had walked up and turned him around and ordered him to respond, then maybe he might've obeyed.

But whatever Suzanne's tone had been that day, however her words must've come across, Tracy did not take them well. Her expression iced over and her eyes flashed with an anger and intensity Suzanne hadn't seen before. "It's not like that." She stared at Holden, and her look softened. After a minute, her eyes grew watery. "He's not acting up. It's in his brain ... something's changing in his brain."

Awkwardness stood between them, so big and wide and tall neither of them could see around it so they turned their attention back to the kids, drawn to the tragedy playing out the way people are drawn to stare at car wrecks.

"Ho'den, can't you hear me?" Ella looked like she might cry, and Suzanne's heart broke for her daughter. "Play with me!"

That time when he didn't turn around, when he completely ignored her attempts, she went back to her baby doll. What she did next reduced both women to tears. Ella cradled the doll close to her face and gradually her joy returned.

"Hi, Ho'den, it's me, Ella!" Her sing-song voice was bright again. "Ho'den, let's sing a song, okay?" She rocked the baby doll a little, as if the baby were answering her. "Okay, this one. Ready?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Jesus loves me, this I know ... for the Bible tells me so ... Little ones to Him belong ..."

Tracy and Suzanne watched in silence, tears sliding down their faces. What could they say? Ella had been rejected by Holden, so she'd found a different friend. Her baby doll might not talk or sing along, but at least it looked at her.

The memory pa.s.sed. Suzanne had learned more about autism since then. Obviously it wouldn't have been possible to order Holden to talk or to scold him out of his withdrawn behavior. She wasn't sure if that was the last time she and Tracy spent time with the kids, but it was one of them. She stared at the photo of Holden and Ella again, stared so long and hard that she almost believed she could will her way back to that moment.

To a time before Holden left them.

The truth was when they lost Holden, they had all lost. Of course their conversations and visits were bound to feel different and strained. It was impossible to sit on the sofa sipping coffee and laughing when their children were suffering a few feet away.

But she could've been more sensitive about how Tracy was feeling. Instead Suzanne was consumed with Ella's sadness, Ella's loss ... how the situation with Holden was affecting her daughter. But had she ever just hugged Tracy and grieved with her? Suzanne couldn't remember a single time. There was an air of sadness between them always after Holden started changing. Like everyone else, Suzanne was constantly sorry. But maybe she was more sorry for herself and her daughter than for what Tracy was going through.

With no understanding of autism, Suzanne really had thought Holden was just being disobedient or sick ... something correctable. She remembered another question she'd asked Tracy that day. "Is he cutting teeth, maybe?" "Is he cutting teeth, maybe?" She had tried to sound hopeful, because if that was it, Holden could be back to normal in a day or so. She had tried to sound hopeful, because if that was it, Holden could be back to normal in a day or so.

Tracy didn't say a word for a few seconds, just looked at her with an emptiness Suzanne didn't recognize. "It's not his teeth." "I'm just saying ... some kids get moody when they're cutting teeth."

When the visit ended that day, she and Tracy exchanged no loud argument or accusations-but there was a sense about their friends.h.i.+p. It was over. For weeks their times together played out like that, with Suzanne occasionally asking when Holden was going to get better. In the years since, Suzanne would sometimes replay those conversations and wish for an apology from Tracy. No one knew much about autism back then, and Suzanne wasn't the only one who believed Holden's changes were merely a stage. Even Tracy's husband had felt that way. Tracy was the only one who believed Holden needed expert care or medical intervention. Even after the diagnosis, Suzanne and the guys still believed they could coax Holden back.

Only Tracy grasped the truth about her son. Tracy, who was forced to handle the loss on her own.

The reality dragged like fingernails across the chalkboard of her heart. Suzanne could've been a better friend-less concerned with her own anxiety, less worried about Ella's loss. More supportive. But once the diagnosis came, there were other reasons the friends.h.i.+p between her and Tracy never recovered. They would be together and Ella would say something darling or accomplish some wonderful feat like turning a somersault, and the celebration would feel stilted and forced. How could Suzanne be excited about Ella's milestones when Holden was regressing?

Whether it was Suzanne's insensitivity or Tracy's defensive spirit, the awkwardness and tension between them buried their friends.h.i.+p one layer at a time. During the month-long spring training that year, Ella's sadness over losing Holden seemed to lessen. She still talked about him, and her baby doll kept the name Holden. But a week after they returned home they connected with a few baseball families-all of whom had young kids. One of them had a little girl Ella's age. The void in their lives was filled and time moved them swiftly downstream from everything about the Harris family.

Suzanne missed Tracy, of course. But she missed the old Tracy, the old Holden, the old way of spending time together before ... before Holden changed. With every pa.s.sing week the idea of calling Tracy seemed more overwhelming, and as the weeks became months, and the months became years, the friends.h.i.+p died.

A friends.h.i.+p that was supposed to last forever.

Suzanne turned the pages of the photo alb.u.m and stopped at one final picture-a photo of her and Tracy taken at the county fair the summer before Holden's change. They wore silly tall green hats and big orange plastic sungla.s.ses and purple feather boas. Their husbands had won the costumes throwing baseb.a.l.l.s at a wooden board.

"Princesses Forever," the caption read.

Suzanne could still feel the hot, humid suns.h.i.+ne on their faces that day, smell the heavy popcorn oil and hear the carnival barkers urging them to step right up. If there was a way back to that time, she would've taken it. And when Holden started to leave them, she would've been more sensitive. Suzanne wanted to cry, wanted to break down right here in the office while the kids were still sleeping and sob over the price they'd all paid when Holden slipped through their fingers.

This was a moment when tears should've come freely because the losses had done nothing but pile up after that. First Holden and Ella, then the time their families spent together, ... the funloving friends.h.i.+p between their husbands, and a million happy moments like the one in the photograph. They had lost all of it, and finally ... they had lost their faith. And it was that loss, Suzanne was sure now, that led to the next set of changes. Randy's distance, his lack of commitment to their family, her obsession with her looks, and the poor connection they had with their children. Her self-loathing and her inability to feel.

The answers to her questions all seemed clear now. The break with the Harris family had started a chain reaction she was helpless to change. There was no way to go back and undo the damage.

Suzanne began to shake a little. So much was lost along the way, she should've been weeping. That was the greatest problem, the one that made her sick to her stomach. Her life was falling apart, but even still her Botoxed eyes were dry.

Nothing but wires and clockwork.

TRACY DIDN'T ALWAYS TAKE H HOLDEN TO CHURCH. HE LOVED the music, but sometimes-if the pastor got too excited or raised his voice a little louder than usual, or if too many people opened their bulletin at the same time-Holden would start to rock. And if his surroundings didn't quiet down quickly, he would find his way from the pew to the floor and start doing push-ups. The congregation was kind, the sort of church family that checked in on Tracy once in a while and kept Holden on their prayer chain. But there was a limit to the sort of distractions that could happen during Sunday service. the music, but sometimes-if the pastor got too excited or raised his voice a little louder than usual, or if too many people opened their bulletin at the same time-Holden would start to rock. And if his surroundings didn't quiet down quickly, he would find his way from the pew to the floor and start doing push-ups. The congregation was kind, the sort of church family that checked in on Tracy once in a while and kept Holden on their prayer chain. But there was a limit to the sort of distractions that could happen during Sunday service.

And Holden was often a distraction.

This Sunday, though, Holden woke up happy and humming. Yes, that was the newest change Tracy had seen in her wonderful son. He was humming. So far she'd heard him hum the theme from Beauty and the Beast Beauty and the Beast and the song "Home" from the show. She didn't have to wonder at the source of Holden's improvements. It was the spring musical. More than that, it was Ella. and the song "Home" from the show. She didn't have to wonder at the source of Holden's improvements. It was the spring musical. More than that, it was Ella.

"I think we'll go to church today, Holden." She told him the news while she made herself a cup of coffee.

Holden sat at the kitchen table eating toaster waffles and sorting through his PECS cards. He still didn't respond with words, but more often now he did respond. His fork was steady in his hand as he took another bite.

She watched, willing him to answer in some way. Please, G.o.d ... I know Holden hears me ... I want to take my son to church, Lord ... please. Please, G.o.d ... I know Holden hears me ... I want to take my son to church, Lord ... please. "Holden ... did you hear me, honey?" "Holden ... did you hear me, honey?"

Holden set his fork down and nodded a few times, his eyes locked on the deck of cards. Quickly, almost panicky, he began moving through the cards lightning fast in search of what he wanted to say.

Tracy moved closer and took the seat beside him. "I'm here, Holden. I know you're trying to talk to me." She put her hand ever so softly on his shoulder. When he didn't flinch, she silently rejoiced. How many years had she longed for this simple moment, the chance to touch her son without the instant rejection of feeling him pull away?

Finally Holden seemed to find the card he was looking for. Without making eye contact, he handed it to her.

The card made Tracy's heart do a stutter beat. It was like she'd always thought. Holden could understand so much more than anyone thought. He had to understand, because of the message on the card. The ill.u.s.tration showed a young woman. And the words simply said "The Girl."

The card didn't represent Tracy, she was sure of that. The dawning happened immediately, as soon as she looked at the card. Tenderness and clarity filled Tracy's heart. "Ella? Is that who you mean? You'd like Ella to go to church with us?"

Holden still stared at his plate, but he smiled just enough to notice. Then he hummed a little and opened his mouth and sang.

Tracy blinked, her head spinning. The line he sang was from Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast, a line about being scared and not quite ready to move on. If she hadn't been sitting down she would've fallen over. Holden understood exactly what he was asking. He wanted Ella Reynolds to go with them to church, but more than that he understood how the situation could feel a little awkward, how their nerves were bound to be somewhat jumbled. a line about being scared and not quite ready to move on. If she hadn't been sitting down she would've fallen over. Holden understood exactly what he was asking. He wanted Ella Reynolds to go with them to church, but more than that he understood how the situation could feel a little awkward, how their nerves were bound to be somewhat jumbled.

Tracy felt a little nervous. Ella might not want to spend time with Holden outside school, and the disappointment might halt his progress. But she didn't want to keep her son waiting. "Okay." She stood and walked across the kitchen to her cell phone. "I can call her. Maybe Ella can meet us there."

Still no eye contact, but Holden nodded. He definitely nodded.

"All right, then." Tracy fought against her pounding heart. What if Ella's mother answered the phone? Or what if Suzanne got angry that Tracy was inviting her daughter to church?

I can do this ... I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. It was another verse, another truth she clung to daily. Praying for streams in the desert, believing G.o.d would get her through even on the driest desert days when the sand scorched her feet.

She and Ella had talked a few times on the phone-times when Ella had to share something Holden had done, or when she had an idea about how to help Holden open up more. At first his therapists didn't believe the changes were anything more than anomalies in his behavior. Quirks that didn't add up to anything significant. After all, he'd always loved music. The idea that he would enjoy rehearsals wasn't that new or advanced for Holden.

But when he started singing, his therapists and teachers and doctors all took notice. This didn't happen with all kids on the autism spectrum. It didn't happen with most. But like the rarest key in the rustiest lock, miraculously something was getting through and opening Holden's mind. Tracy had no doubt that the key was music, and Ella alone held it in her hands.

She tapped out the girl's number and waited. Please, G.o.d ... let her answer ... Let her be willing ... Don't let it be awkward ... please, G.o.d. Please, G.o.d ... let her answer ... Let her be willing ... Don't let it be awkward ... please, G.o.d.

Ella answered almost immediately. "h.e.l.lo?" She sounded pleasant, but tired.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry." Tracy couldn't make her get out of bed on a Sunday. "I had an idea, but not if you're sleeping. I didn't mean to -"

"No, Mrs. Harris, I'm awake. Really." Her energy picked up some. "What's going on?"

Tracy shot a look at Holden. He was rocking a little, his eyes glued to his uneaten waffle. "Well," She closed her eyes. There was no turning back now. "Holden and I are going to church. We wondered ... Actually, he wondered if you'd like to join us?"

Holden stopped rocking and lifted his head, his gaze straight ahead.

"Really?" She laughed, but it was clearly a show of joy, an extension of the smile that must've filled her face. "Holden wants me to go?"

"He does." She explained the story, about the PECS card and how he nodded when she asked him if he wanted her to call Ella. "It starts in an hour."

"I'd love to go." She sounded as happy and delightful as she had when she was little.

Tracy told her where the church was and the best way to get there from Fulton High-which was near Ella's house. "So ... we'll see you there?"

Holden's smile crept a little higher on his face.

"Definitely." She paused. "Thanks for calling. That means a lot-that Holden wants me there."

"It's like you said. G.o.d is doing something big in Holden's life."

"Actually," she hesitated, her voice more emotional than before. "He's doing something big in both our lives."

As the call ended, Tracy heard Holden humming again. She turned and smiled at him. If only she could take him in her arms and hug him, celebrate with him the thrill of knowing he could ask a friend to church. The hug wasn't going to happen, but as she stood there Holden began to sing. This time the song was the same one Holden and Ella had sung so often back before. The song that rang through their home every afternoon. His voice was a little older now, but there was so much sameness, Tracy had to lean against the kitchen counter to catch her breath. Holden didn't notice. He kept staring at his eggs and rocking and singing the same sweet words over and over and over again.

"Jesus loves me, this I know ... for the Bible tells me so ... Little ones to Him belong ... they are weak, but He is strong!"

Twenty-One.

THE BREAKTHROUGH HAPPENED AT CHURCH.

Ella had showered and dressed in a hurry and stopped only briefly in the kitchen to tell her mother where she was headed.

Her mother was making an egg-white omelet, and she stopped, the color fading from her cheeks. "You're going to church?" church?"

"Yes." Ella resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wouldn't be very nice to make a mockery of her mother on the way out the door to church. Besides, her mother managed to do that all on her own. "Holden wants me to go."

"Holden?" Again her mom took the news like a physical blow. "I thought he couldn't talk."

"Mom," Ella remembered to feel sorry for her. She thought about all the times her mother didn't hug her and didn't ask about her day or what she was involved in. She still didn't know about the spring musical. Ella found a reluctant smile. "Not all communication happens with words."

She waited a minute-just in case her mom might smile or say she understood or ask to come along. Something to show she cared. But she only remained motionless, her expression flat. Ella tried not to feel hurt. "Well ... see you later." With that she hurried out the door and ten minutes later she walked through the doors of Holden's church. She took a seat near the back and stared at the wooden cross that hung on the main wall. From conversations with Holden's mother Ella knew there was a time when her own family attended church every week. In her struggle to understand what had gone wrong with her parents, the fact that they'd stopped going to church seemed like at least one clear reason.

From what Ella could tell, when her parents stopped attending church, they stopped believing. She and her brothers hadn't been taught about G.o.d or praying or eternity-none of it. And she'd never imagined the other idea Mrs. Harris had talked about -having a relations.h.i.+p with Jesus -a friends.h.i.+p. As she sat down, she remembered her last phone call with Holden's mother.

"For me, I talk to Him throughout the day, and He talks to me."

"He talks to you?"

"Not out loud." Mrs. Harris laughed. She was such a nice lady, so patient with Ella. So caring. "But He talks to us through Scripture -through the Bible. And sometimes you'll hear His truth in your heart and you'll know-you'll absolutely know it's Him. Talking to you, and walking you through a difficult time. Giving you wisdom and direction."

If anyone should know it would be Mrs. Harris. So the decision to come to church was an easy one. Finding a friends.h.i.+p with the G.o.d of the universe, and knowing that this same mighty G.o.d wanted a friends.h.i.+p with her in return? Even if Holden hadn't wanted her to come, she was interested. She'd been thinking about it for weeks now.

Holden and his mother arrived, and the three of them moved to a row near the front. As they took their seats, Mrs. Harris leaned over Holden-who was sitting between them-and grinned at Ella. "We're glad you're here."

"Me too." Before she turned her attention to the people singing at the front, Holden caught her eye. The way he'd done a number of times now. Ella smiled, and before he looked away, Holden did the same thing.

The message was on being a living sacrifice, letting your life s.h.i.+ne in such a way that it brought glory to G.o.d. By way of ill.u.s.tration, the pastor-Pastor Jeff -had arranged for something he called an altar to be brought into the church. It looked like a large slab of stone and it sat on six st.u.r.dy stone legs.

"It's not about the altar, the outside, the face we put on for others." Pastor Jeff was kind, his words and message clear. "It's about the sacrifice. What are you doing for G.o.d? How are you bringing Him glory?"

Ella thought about the years when she'd lived in the shadows of the cool kids, the mean crowd. She hadn't known G.o.d, but she'd known the truth about her group of friends. The way they treated other kids was terrible. She never should have hung out with them.

So what about now, she wondered. she wondered. Am I living in a way to bring You glory, G.o.d? Am I doing enough so that You'll love me? Am I living in a way to bring You glory, G.o.d? Am I doing enough so that You'll love me?

I love you, my daughter ... you can't earn my love.

The thought fell over her like a gentle rain, and Ella sat back in the pew. Was this what Holden's mother meant? She certainly hadn't imagined the answer, but she hadn't heard an audible voice, either. You love me, G.o.d? Even though I never really thought about You until lately? You love me, G.o.d? Even though I never really thought about You until lately?

The answer didn't come again, but the memory of it did. He loved her. She could do nothing to change His love, nothing to earn it. But she could try to understand Him better, and she could figure out exactly what it meant to be a Christian-to live the way Mrs. Harris and Holden lived.

At the end of the talk, Pastor Jeff called up a small boy, impish and darling with dimples and dirty blond hair. He wore jeans and a plaid flannel s.h.i.+rt and as soon as he was up on the stage, Pastor Jeff grinned at him. "Hi, buddy." He turned to the audience. "This is TJ. He's six years old and he's my one and only son." Pastor Jeff stooped down to the boy's level and for a long moment the two grinned at each other and the boy whispered something. His dad laughed, enjoying the private, father-son moment.

The sort of moment Ella couldn't remember ever having with her father.

Next to her, Holden folded his hands and brought them up to his chin. He wasn't looking straight at the scene playing out on the stage, but he was interested. Ella could tell. Maybe he misses his dad, too, Maybe he misses his dad, too, she thought. For the first time she realized that they had that in common, she and Holden. In all the ways that mattered, they'd both lost their dads. she thought. For the first time she realized that they had that in common, she and Holden. In all the ways that mattered, they'd both lost their dads.

Pastor Jeff looked at the crowd again. "I love my son more than anything in this world." His eyes shone, his emotion full and rich. "I would do anything for this boy." He stood and motioned to TJ. "Okay, buddy. Go ahead."

With that, the child made a small jump to the stone altar. Then he lay down flat at the center of the stone table, his littleboy feet wiggling while he tried to stay still. Beside him, Holden raised his elbows and started moving them up and down just a little.

"It's okay," Ella whispered near his ear. "The boy's okay, Holden."

His arms stopped moving, but he kept his hands folded near his chin.

"I love my son so much." Pastor Jeff's voice was tight. "If G.o.d asked me to sacrifice him, the way He asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac ..." He shook his head. "I'm not sure what I would say." The pastor looked at his son, and everyone in the room did the same thing.

Ella heard people around her s.h.i.+fting to see better. She hoped the sounds wouldn't bother Holden. She patted his hand, just so he'd know she was there.

Pastor Jeff smiled at his son. "Okay, TJ, you can get up."

The boy scrambled to his feet and grinned big as he hopped back to his place beside his father. The pastor hugged him and roughed up his hair a little. Then he stood again, his arm still around the boy's shoulders. "The most amazing thing about G.o.d is that He won't ever ask us to do that. He didn't ask it of Abraham, and He won't ask it of you." He paused, and again the emotion in the room was powerful. Soft utterances of amen came from all around. "That's because G.o.d did it for us. He took his one and only son and laid Him down for us. And Jesus went to the cross willingly out of love for you and me." Pastor Jeff looked at the altar again. "So what is it in your life that you need to lay down? It's not your son-that's already been done. But maybe it's your time or your talents ... your treasure. You have one chance to let your lives be a sacrifice for G.o.d. Let's start today."

Ella sat up straighter. Suddenly the message was perfectly clear. G.o.d didn't just love her from a distance. He loved her enough to call upon His one and only son and give Him up for her. It was a sort of love Ella had never imagined, let alone experienced. I want to know more, G.o.d ... Help me learn so I can follow You. I want to know more, G.o.d ... Help me learn so I can follow You. It was a beginning, Ella could feel it in her heart. The faith these people had, the faith of Holden and his mother-that's what Ella wanted too. It was a beginning, Ella could feel it in her heart. The faith these people had, the faith of Holden and his mother-that's what Ella wanted too.