Page 28 of Breathing Under Water

“Hey, kid,” I say, looking up to find him approaching. “You’re very early this morning.” I smile to make it clear I don’t mind, but then I remember that people with autism don’t alwaysinterpret social cues accurately. “I’m smiling because I’m glad to see you,” I say.

I note Beck’s red sedan idling in front of us and watch as he lowers the passenger window.

“Hey, McKenna,” he calls, leaning across the seat. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping Leo early. There’s a meeting I have to get to out in Greenport.”

“Not at all,” I call back. “Happy to have the company.”

He and I smile at each other, and I feel a little zing, but I push it away, waving goodbye and turning back to Leo. He’s standing awkwardly at the bottom of the steps, like he’s not sure where to go.

“Want to join me?” I ask, patting the stone surface beside me.

“You didn’t tell me why you were sitting on the steps, so how can I know whether I want to join you if I don’t know what we would be doing out here?”

“That is a very fair question,” I say, my smile widening at his earnestness. “I was resting here after a hard workout session this morning and scrolling through apps on my phone. And then I guess I was just going to sit here and feel sad for a few minutes, but now that you’re here, maybe I don’t have to feel sad after all.”

“Okay, I’ll sit. But I don’t want to feel sad. Why were you going to feel sad?” he asks.

“Well,” I start, preparing to sweep everything under the rug. But for some reason, I feel a pull to open up to him. “I was having some unkind thoughts about friends from school, and then I was angry at myself for not just being happy for them.” I keep unloading. “On top of that, my grandmother moved intoa facility for older people who need special medical care, and I miss living with her.”

“That sounds like you should be happy. For the part about your friends. You’re lucky to have friends,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his swim trunks and removing one of those small airplanes he carries. He starts running his finger over a wheel, watching it spin.

I want to tell him that most of the people I’m talking about aren’t really my friends, just people I know from school. Real friends do more than put emojis under one another’s posts from time to time. But that’s all I get outside the swim team. All that time practicing and traveling for meets limits how much I can connect with any of the other students.

Before I can clarify, Leo continues. “Anyway, you’re allowed to have any kind of thoughts you want as long as you don’t act on them all,” he says. “That’s what my therapist says. Maybe you need a therapist too.”

I laugh lightly at his take and say, “Maybe I do.” No need to mention I can’t remotely afford that.

“You should be happy about your grandmother too,” he adds. “You have a solution for your problem. She needed special care, and you found a place for her to get that. Sometimes I have problems with no solutions, and then it’s very hard to feel happy. I don’t like to talk about those problems, so don’t ask me.”

“Okay, I won’t,” I say, perfectly glad to be told.

A bird flies out of a tree beside the steps, and Leo’s head turns quickly in its direction. He watches it flit over to the next small tree lining the club’s driveway.

“Would you like to tell me some things that do make you happy?” I ask.

“Okay,” he says, but then he doesn’t follow it up.

“Go ahead,” I prod. “What makes you happy?”

“Airplanes.”

“What about them?”

“Everything.” His finger is still propelling the one little wheel of the replica in his hand.

“Like what?”

“They’re predictable and organized. Every part of an airplane has a specific purpose. The aerodynamics always make sense. Even when a plane malfunctions, there’s a clear reason why it happened, not like with people. And if you like planes, you can study maps and navigation. You can track flight paths. You can see the way the shape of a plane affects how it moves when it’s in the air, and how different planes take off at different angles. They can have different purposes and loads, engine power and thrust. You have to think about runway length, weather patterns. I made a PowerPoint of the first-class amenities on different airlines. I like the way planes change over time, how they’ve gotten faster. I like warplanes and drones and comparing planes to birds. I like building models of planes and showing them to my dad. I like talking about planes and going to the Bethpage Air Show at Jones Beach to see the Navy demonstrations and the Blue Angels performing. I like learning about aerodynamic efficiency and the different technologies they use for navigation and instrumentation, like GPS, inertial navigation systems, and more traditional systems like flying VOR to VOR or ILS approaches, the cockpit instruments and what they measure—”

I interrupt and jokingly ask, “Oh, is that all?”

“No, there’s a lot more,” he says, “like air traffic control systems and regulations from the FAA and ICAO—”

“Leo,” I interrupt again.

“I’m not finished,” he says.

“I’m aware, but when people ask a question like that, they generally want to hear about two or three things you like, not every last thing. I imagine we could be sitting here for many hours if you were to tell me every single thing you like about airplanes.”