Craig Lancaster - 600 Hours of Edward

“I am not interested in him, Father.”

“Considering the circumstance you’re in here, Edward, that’s difficult to believe.”

“He has helped me with painting the garage. He came over one day. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. He has helped me paint. His mother knows about it. She hasn’t complained.”

“She’s complaining now.”

“Yes.”

My father sighs. He leans forward in the chair, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Do you understand how this looks? You’re in your pajamas, you don’t have any shoes, and you’re in a hospital emergency room talking about a woman’s son being hurt. Do you understand how that might be viewed as unacceptable?”

“Yes. I was scared.”

“OK, Edward. But now you’ve scared someone else.”

After talking with me, my father talks with Donna Middleton, who has come out to meet him. They talk a few feet away from me, and it’s as if I’m not here.

“Mr. Stanton, I’ve never been so scared.”

“I know.”

“I called Kyle. He’s fine.”

“That’s good. Edward says he had a bad dream. I’m sure your son was never in danger.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

My father smiles, as if to reassure her. “Edward has a severe case of obsessive-compulsive disorder. He has had it for a long time. What he did today is something new, I’ll admit, but he generally does what he has to do to control his condition. He’s on medication. He sees a therapist.”

This shows what my father knows. The full story is that I’m obsessive-compulsive and that I have Asperger’s syndrome. Some people call that “high-functioning autism.” Dr. Buckley says it’s not my fault.

“Is he dangerous?”

“No. At least, he never has been. Edward’s compulsions generally lie in solitary things—the TV shows he watches, the projects he gets involved in, the things that stimulate his mind.”

“I see. But you say that he’s never done this.”

“No.”

“Can you assure me that he never will again?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think he will, but I can’t promise that.”

“OK. Would you please tell him to leave us alone? Will he do that?”

“I will see to it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad your son is OK.”

“Thank you.”

Donna Middleton leaves.

My father lays out the situation for me, which I already know. I am to stay away from Donna Middleton and Kyle. I have scared them, and I am not to bother them ever again.

“Go home, Edward,” my father says.

There is so much to do back at the house. None of my data has been recorded. I start with the time I woke up. The fact is, I just don’t know. I was sitting in the 1997 Toyota Camry at 7:40, and so I estimate that my eyes opened at 7:39 and that I took a minute to dash out the door and get into the car. But I just don’t know for sure. I write down 7:39—the twenty-fourth time out of 292 days this year (because it’s a leap year), but the first time that I’ve put an asterisk next to the time. This signifies that the time is an estimate. I don’t like estimates. I prefer facts.

I also grab the Billings Herald-Gleaner and record yesterday’s high and low temperatures—fifty-four and twenty-eight. The forecast today is as I expected; it’s warm, with a projected high of sixty-three. I will know for sure tomorrow.

And my data is complete.

In the shower, I think about what a mess today already is. I’m relieved that Kyle is OK. I am scared of these dreams that I’m having. I wonder where they are coming from and why they are coming. It will be a long wait until Tuesday, when I can talk to Dr. Buckley about them. She is a very logical person. I hope she can explain what’s happening.

I think about how it’s too late now for a bowl of corn flakes, which is going to throw off my system of food consumption completely. I think about my data. I think about how ugly the garage is and how I’m going to have to do something about that soon.

Mostly, I think about Donna Middleton and how scared she was this morning. I was scared, but my fear was nothing like hers. I think about how if it hadn’t been for me, she would have been just fine, going about her work as an emergency department nurse at Billings Clinic. I think about my father and how disappointed he seemed. I think about how many times he has had to show up somewhere and get me out of some trouble. This is probably worse than the “Garth Brooks incident.”

I slump down into the tub, pull my knees up to chin, and rest my head.

At Montana Personal Connect, I see it again:

Inbox (1).

I click the link.

Hi Edward!

Your SO funny. I liked your note very much. I would like to keep talking to you. You have a kind face too. I like youre eyes.

Let’s do this OK? I will ask you five questions about yourself and then you write back with the answers and five questions about me.

Here are some questions.

1. Where were you born?

2. Do you have any nicknames?

3. What do you like to do on a date?

4. Do you have any brothers or sisters?

5. Would you help the roadrunner escape from the coyote or help the coyote catch the roadrunner?

Write back!

This is a confounding woman. She has gotten no better at grammar, and I may have to prepare myself for the possibility that she never will. But she also asks really good, although random, questions.

I will have to think about this for a while.

After dinner—a Banquet roast-beef-and-potatoes frozen meal—I write back.

Joy:

You ask really good questions.

1. I was born here in Billings on January 9, 1969.

2. My mother used to call me Teddy when I was a little boy, but I prefer Edward.

3. I think I would like to see a movie on a date. I like movies. Also, if you eat dinner after the movie, you have something to talk about.

4. I am my parents’ only child.

5. I’m not sure why this matters, but it seems to me that the roadrunner needs no help in escaping the coyote—that’s the whole point of the cartoon, that the coyote never wins. I suppose I would help the coyote, although what I would really like to do is be the guy who invents things for Acme.

Here are five questions for you:

1. How many online dates have you been on?

2. What is your favorite season?

3. Do you watch Dragnet? If so, what is your favorite episode?

4. What music do you like?

5. Where do you go on vacation?

At 10:00 p.m. sharp, I sit down for my nightly Dragnet episode. Tonight, I am watching the twenty-fourth episode of the fourth and final season, “Robbery: The Harassing Wife.” It originally aired on April 2, 1970, and it is one of my favorites.

In this one, an ex-convict named John Sawyer—played by Herbert Ellis, who appeared in three of the color episodes—is repeatedly accused by his bitter, estranged wife of committing robberies. Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon, having to take seriously allegations against an ex-convict, repeatedly investigate John Sawyer and conclude that he did not commit the crimes he has been accused of doing.

Finally, John Sawyer does commit a robbery, thinking that Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon won’t believe that he did it, since his wife’s stories are not panning out. This is a grave miscalculation on his part, because Sergeant Joe Friday always gets his man.

Once John Sawyer is in custody, his wife gets very angry with Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon for throwing him in jail. She turned him in for all the crimes he didn’t commit only because she wanted him to come back to her.