NORMAL BUT DIFFERENT
Brian Comerford
Copyright 2011 by Brian Comerford
Smashwords Edition
A Short Story about Asperger’s Syndrome
by
Brian Comerford
-o0o-
Hank Chatto pulled at the aircraft toilet door clumsily. He pushed himself out before the door was fully open. The awkwardness of his movements led to a gauche collision with the refreshments trolley, nearly wrenching it from the grip of the cabin stewardess who just saved it from rumbling on automatic pilot along the aisle of the packed Boeing 747.
“Mind…!” The stewardess strangled her reproof. She still swore at him blisteringly within. This was the First Class Cabin. She had been briefed.
“Hank Chatto is flying with us today,” the Chief Steward had announced, to universal moans and gripes. “Need I say more?”
Hank Chatto, Chief Executive Officer of Chatto Universal Inc., kicked the ankle of the passenger seated next to him as he returned to his seat. Global International Airlines spent hundreds of thousands of dollars proclaiming the roominess of their First Class Cabin with their boast of “legroom for giraffes”.
There was no change in Hank’s expression during his awkward journey from toilet to seat. He said nothing. Uttered no apology. The expressions of his fellow passengers covered the spectrum from mild irritation to rage. The cabin crew sported the best plastic grins their training could supply.
“This is your Captain speaking. We have reached our cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet. The tailwind gives us an airspeed of five hundred and sixty miles per hour and we should be arriving in Paris slightly ahead of schedule at seven-thirty local time tomorrow morning. We will shortly be dimming the cabin lights and wish you a good night’s rest on our journey”.
As soon as the cabin lights dimmed Hank switched on his overhead light. He banged his laptop on the seat-tray, slapped it open and pounded away furiously at the keys.
“Must you do that?” his neighboring passenger enquired, still rubbing the sore ankle.
Hank stared at him blankly.
“I said, must you do that?”
“Yes”, Hank replied flatly.
“Why?”, his neighbor whined, “ and why now?”
“There is no other way”, Hank responded, in a mechanical monotone.
“There is no other way”.
“There is no other way”.
-0-
“Not so loud, Hank! I’m always telling you that you don’t have to pound piano keys like that!” Hank’s mother was glad they had not bought a drum for his sixth birthday.
“I like it loud”.