ADHD Tarantella

by cagd

If Constance refused treatment for Beauregard and to send Addy to a school that was geared for Down's children, I imagine that Tate who shows signs of ADD/ADHD (among other things), must have gone through hell, himself. So here's a typical school day for Tate, aged 8 and obviously un-medicated.

Tap.
Tap.
TapTap.
TapTapTap…
TapTapTapTapTap!

"Tate,
Stop
Tapping
Your pencil.
You're
Distracting
The
Class."

The class
Stares,
Giggling.
Hot-faced,
You
Stop.

"Class,
Spell
Alligator-
Tate!"

Thump.
Thump.
ThumpThump.
ThumpThumpThump
ThumpThumpThumpThump!

Your foot kicks the
Chair leg
In front of you.
Fascinated,
You watch it.
It belongs to
Someone
Else.

"Mrs. Alvarez,
Tate
Won't
Stop
Kicking
My
Chair!"

ThumpThumpThumpThump!

"Tate."

ThumpThumpThumpThump!

"Tate… "

ThumpThumpThumpThump!

"Sigh, TATE!"

Thump…?!

Startled,
You
Look
Up,
Everybody's
Staring,
The light's
Too bright,
Fluorescent
Buzzing
Overhead,
Their eyes
Bore
Into you
A physical pain,
Energy
With nowhere
To go.

"Tate.
Sit
Down."

You're now
On the floor
Which is too
Cold and
Too hard
And your
Clothes
Are
Strangling
You,
Screaming in
Terror,
You start
Ripping
Them off
The smell of
Floor polish
Overpowering-
You
Howl,
Snot-faced
As
Mrs. Alvarez
Drags you
To the
Principal's
Office,
Face grim.

"Mrs. Langdon,
Tate's
Behavior
Has gotten
Worse,
Are you
Giving him
His Ritalin?"

"There's not a
Goddam thing
Wrong with
My son,
He's just
Sensitive!"

Mother drags
You howling
Into the
Daylight
Where you scream
And Kick
In the
Back seat
Of her Jaguar
As she lights
Up
Cigarette
After
Cigarette
In traffic.

"Your father
Wanted you
Medicated,
To crush
The poet
Out of you-
I wouldn't
Let him,
You ungrateful
BRAT!"

Mother
Drags you
Limp and
Sobbing
Out of
The back
Seat,
Slapping
You.

Cringing
You stumble
Across the
Driveway,
Blinded by
Daylight,
You've wet
Your pants
And your
Nose is bloody.

"Goddamit,
Tate-
After all
I've done
For you,
This is how
You repay
Me?"

She slaps you
And pours
Herself
Another one,
Slumping
In the kitchen
Chair,
Face in hands
Elbows on table,
Crying,
Mascara
Oozing down
Her cheeks,
Cigarette a
Long ash.

"Go to your
Room-
You've
Pissed
Yourself.
I can't stand
To look at you."

You run past
Her,
Not upstairs,
But downstairs,
To the little space
With all the
Shelves,
And in the
Dogstink
And
Cool darkness,
You fall
Asleep,
Rocking
Yourself,
Sucking
Your thumb,
Fingers stroking
Your upper lip,
Head on
Mrs. Nora's lap,
As the
Infantata
Watches you
From the
Shadows,
Greedily.

"Goddamit,
Tate,
Would it
Hurt you
To smile
Once
In a
While?"