This secret design in his head is one that is difficult, perhaps even impossible, to understand. All our family really does is play along, pretending that we do.
The 6th Step
Jan used to be jealous of me when he was a tot. He thought our parents liked me more than they did him. So anything that belonged to me automatically became a coveted item. It did not matter if my parents had bought him something identical. Mine was always better.
Once I caught him scuttling from my room wearing my t-shirt. He looked very cute waddling around in the oversized shirt that flapped about his ankles, so I let him be.
Jan still does somewhat think that I own the best of everything. Now, however, he generously lets me keep most of my belongings and only spirits away my munching snacks.
Generally, autistic individuals are said not to display or have emotions. Jan does, however. He has always had a personality of his own.
He turns jealous when he thinks our parents pay more attention to his sister; he gets disappointed if he thinks we have broken a promise to him; he is happy when he gets his favourite food or listens to his favourite music, or when he simply gets his own way; he gets angry if anyone tries to share his food – he used to signal the domestic help not to go near his food and would refuse to eat till they were a good distance away. He also worries if any of us are absent from home for more than a day, and forms strong attachments to his family and caregivers.
A particularly endearing trait is Jan’s show of concern when any of the family falls ill. He massages our mother’s head when she is recovering in bed, pats mine when I come down with bad fevers, and straightens father’s pillows when he is under the weather. When we say ‘Thank you Jan, I feel better’, he smiles and is cheerful and energetic again.
Some may argue that it has nothing to do with emotional responses; the boy merely copies the actions of others in context, which generally would in itself be an achievement for a child with autism. They could be right.
But we must not tell Jan this; he knows how to feel offended.
The 7th Step
My brother understands the concept of danger. For example, he is very careful when crossing the road. At the sight of oncoming cars, he would pull whomever he was holding by the hand to the other side in terrific helter-skelter urgency.
Jan had road safety lessons back in Balestier, but school lessons teach what should be done and when. I doubt anyone could have taught him the concept of fear. Jan somehow figured it out on his own.
One of my brother’s most pronounced fears is that of heights. He will not go near railings, parapets and other barriers which bar the way to any great drop. If you tried to bring him near one, he would put up a staunch resistance and then give you the evil eyeball.
There is no pattern to Jan’s fears. They are as random and irrational as the fears of regular people. He may be frightened of heights but he has no trouble with deep swimming pools. He can look down to see his feet dangling a long way from the bottom of the pool and be completely unafraid.
I usually allow him to follow me to the deepest end, where he will abandon the safety buoys and plunge into the water.
The 8th Step
Living with my brother means constantly having to outwit him at every step. More often than not, this fails, but we try anyway.
One of the hardest things to do is, as I have mentioned, hiding things from him. It is exactly like the whole business with the soap. Another shiny example is the time we tried to hide all the scissors and trimmers in the house after he latched onto the habit of snipping cables, wires and even his own eyebrows. Jan almost always managed to get his hands on a pair whenever he wanted. Some of those pairs of scissors and nail clippers had been kept away under lock and key. I am not joking.
The family stopped asking, a long time ago, questions beginning with the words “how did he manage to”. We work so hard to conceal things from him that sometimes we actually succeed. (‘There’s no way he’s going to find it now!’) Then it turns out the hiding place is so good that we cannot find it ourselves again either. It is a good magic trick to make many of your household items disappear.
The upside is, whenever it seems impossible to find something in the house, I call for Jan’s assistance. All I have to do is look away for a few minutes and he almost always turns up with the lost object.
My brother likes to wonder about things. He likes to find out what makes things run, and is curious about the cause and effect of actions and ideas. I definitely would not presume to know what precisely is going on in his head. This is simply my conclusion after years of observation.
When Jan was younger, he would dismantle the furniture and examine the pieces. He would also take apart electronic devices. We would find the skeletons of our household appliances and other electronic widgets all over the house.
I imagine he thinks, ‘What will happen if I push this button or flick that switch? And why?’ My brother would spend many more hours fascinated by the innards of a telephone than with a commercial toy.
Jan has his own way of looking at the world. It is strange how he can sometimes make the logical seem illogical, or the
