Stranger Than Fiction
"Ms Littleton, thank you for coming in to meet with us today." The voice is awfully cheery, Claire can't help but think, for an urgent meeting with a concerned first-grade teacher and a school psychologist. God, she wonders what it is this time. She hopes Aaron hasn't been acting out again. It'd been rough, the first few weeks after Kate left, but Aaron has seemed less frantic, less unstable recently.
(Those first few weeks were rough for Claire, too. She cringes now at the way she'd begged Kate not to go, still angry and hurt that the only response she ever got was I didn't go back to the island for this. Everything I did was so you could raise him, Claire. I can't do this anymore…I can't keep playing "Aaron Has Two Mommies" forever. It's been three years now. That's how long it took me to figure out how to be a mother. You'll be fine. Sawyer's explanation, when Claire had finally realized that Kate wasn't coming back any time soon and forced herself to tell him that no, Kate couldn't be the assistant coach for Clementine's summer soccer team since she was out of the country indefinitely, hadn't helped much either. It was nothin' you did, Claire. She was always gonna leave sometime. He was hers, and now he's not and it just…it hurts too much for her to stay.
But now…things had finally gone back to normal. Aaron's questions about Mommy Kate – a name that, until the morning he woke up and she was gone, he'd stopped using when he was four – had ceased and he'd seemed almost happy a few days ago at breakfast when he'd wondered if Aunt Kate would send him a postcard from Brazil. This past weekend he'd wrestled with Sawyer and played baseball with his friends, and he hadn't even flinched when Claire had accidentally called him goober as he ran out to catch the school bus that morning. But then the call had come, shattering Kate's promises that Claire would be okay, that she could do this, that she was ready to be Aaron's mother on her own. Claire still believes Kate, still wants to believe in herself the way that Kate believes in her, but – she's just not sure how much more of this she can take.)
"What seems to be the problem?" she asks, straightening up in the chair and clearing her throat. Maybe acting like she's not on the verge of panicking will convince herself she's not. It seems to convince Mrs Stanley, anyways, since she starts to talk in the gentle, almost hesitant voice that Claire has come to realize is used especially for parents when they have to be told that something is not-quite-right with the child they are sure is perfect. Claire wishes Mrs Stanley would realize that she doesn't need to use that voice with her. Aaron isn't perfect. None of them are. It's a truth that Claire made peace with years ago.
"Today we're just a little concerned with Aaron's imagination. He seems to have…too much of it, I guess, is the best way of putting it."
Claire is incredulous. That Aaron isn't perfect she can accept, but too much imagination? That's why they've called her in today, practically paralyzing her with worry about the damage Kate's disappearance is doing to her son, making her question whether she'll ever be enough of a mother for him on her own? She bites her lip, though, because she knows that this woman has Aaron's best interests at heart (and so does Dr Holland, the school's psychologist, who has been silent thus far in the meeting, though Claire suspects she'll have a great deal to say shortly), and settles for saying flatly "I would think you would be concerned if he didn't have enough imagination, not if he has too much. I didn't think you could have too much imagination when you're six years old."
Mrs Stanley looks uncomfortable, as Claire knew she would, and fiddles with the piece of paper that lies in front of her on the desk. Claire is acting like one of those difficult parents, and she knows it, she knows that she deserves the gentle, hesitant voice now, but she doesn't care. Of all the things that could be wrong with Aaron, he's imaginative. She hears Mrs Stanley cough quietly, steeling herself to speak again – to deal with a parent's denial – and so she forces herself to pay attention, to give the woman who's been so understanding of Aaron for the last month the respect that the rational part of Claire knows she owes her.
"The problem seems to be that he has difficulty distinguishing his real life from what happens in his imagination. Perhaps it would be best for you to read this first, and discuss with us in a few minutes." She pushes the paper across the desk, toward Claire, who picks it up expecting something along the same lines as the other pamphlets she's been given in the last month (subsituting the title The Over-Imaginative Child for The Emotional one, or something), and is surprised to realize that she's holding a piece of Aaron's schoolwork. It must have been a big assignment, too, because she recognizes the rounded, measured letters of his very-best handwriting. This is something that she wants to read, not something she'll skim now and pour over in desperation later as she deals with another round of nightmares and tantrums. "The children have been reading biographies and the assignment was to write the very first chapter of their own biography," Claire hears Mrs Stanley add, before she starts to read.
WHEN I WAS BORN, by AARON LITTLETON, it begins. Before I was born, Mommy wanted to visit California. So she got on a plane and on the plane was my Uncle James and my Aunt Kate and my Uncle Jack, only they all didn't know it yet. And then something went wrong on the plane and it had to crash and when they got off the plane they were on an island, not California. But it's safe for people to go on planes because they almost never crash and the people at the airport check them to make sure they're working before they start to fly. And so Mommy and Uncle James and Aunt Kate and Uncle Jack had to stay on the island with some other people until someone could see them and get them to their home. And while they were on the island I was growing in Mommy's belly. And then it was time for me to get born and they were still on the island, because the island was a hard place to find. And there wasn't a hospital on the island because it was all jungle. And Uncle Jack is a doctor but he couldn't help Mommy because he was taking care of someone who was very hurt. So he told Aunt Kate what to do and she came and she was brave and helped Mommy, and Mommy was brave and I was born. And when I was born everybody loved me and helped take care of me. And then some people found the island and they took us home. Only Mommy was lost and sick and she couldn't take care of me and be my Mommy, so Aunt Kate took care of me and was my Mommy for a little while. And Uncle Jack helped too. And then Mommy got better and Aunt Kate found her and she was my Mommy again. Aunt Kate is going to send me mail from all the places she goes and she will come back and visit me and Uncle James and Clementine come to play sometimes. And Uncle Jack loves me lots and he's proud of me even though I can't see him anymore. And that means we're a family! THE END.
Claire puts the paper down, smiling. It's the same story that Aaron's been hearing from her and Kate for the last three years, more or less. She opens her mouth to explain, but is cut off by Dr Holland.
"I'm a bit concerned by the psychological implications of the story, especially the part about you being sick and lost and needing Kate to find you. We know that it's been difficult for Aaron to adjust to your…partner…leaving, and I think that this story is just another manifestation of his emotions." (Claire had stopped trying to explain the nature of Aaron's family life to the school months ago, since they'd seemed determined from the start that she and Kate were a couple, and had settled for being happy that they seemed unfazed by it even though their version of events was far more unconventional than the truth. Come to think of it, maybe they're the ones with too much imagination, she thinks to herself.)
"However, I am more worried by Aaron's reaction when Mrs Stanley told him that he needed to write down what really happened when he was born," Dr Holland continues. "Apparently he insisted that the story he had written was the truth, and became quite upset when Mrs Stanley explained that he was born in a hospital just like everyone else. I have with me a pamphlet that I'd like you to look over. There are some helpful strategies for dealing with problems like this, and I'd really like you to work on what "the truth" means at home with Aaron for a week or so before we re-evaluate."
Claire glances behind her, to the back of the classroom where Aaron sits. His blonde head is bent low over a picture book, an action figure clutched in one hand as he turns the pages with the other. Seeing him there, she's suddenly, fiercely proud of him – proud that he believed in himself enough to stand up for what he knew was the truth, proud that he trusted her enough to believe what she told him even when it seemed unbelievable, proud that he'd managed to come to his own understanding of their strange little family by himself. And now it's her turn to interrupt, as she turns to Dr Holland with a smile, saying "No, no thank you. I won't be needing any strategies. Aaron was telling the truth." Ignoring the shocked faces, she continues. "I was in a plane crash, and I did give birth on an island. Kate Austen did raise Aaron for three years while I was….unable to do so. Google Oceanic Flight 815 and I'm sure the stories will come up."
There's apologies, immediately, and though Claire is tempted to accept them and move forward, she hasn't quite said her piece yet. "I understand that it seemed unbelievable, but when he kept telling you it was the truth you should have listened. My son is far from perfect, but he is not a liar. Next time, please do your homework before you decide that his needs to be fixed.' And with that, she smiles at Mrs Stanley and Dr Holland – no hard feelings – and walks over to where her son is patiently waiting for her.
"Hey, Aaron, your teacher was just a little confused. How about we go home and have some dinner? If you eat all your vegetables we'll go out for ice cream." The promise of ice cream has Aaron on his feet in an instant, ready to go. As Claire takes him by the hand, ruffling his hair and herding him out the door, she hears Dr Holland murmuring to Mrs Stanley. "Sometimes the truth really is stranger than fiction," she's saying. You don't know the half of it, Claire thinks, and laughs to herself. She can't often laugh when she thinks of the island, but right now she's got her son by her side and there's a voice in her head telling her that they're going to be just fine by themselves, and for once that voice sounds more like her own than it sounds like Kate's. Right now, Claire could laugh at anything.