the past is laid out before us; the future behind

September 23, 1986
(Now I have just turned 24 years old)

I walked over to get an album on Nicollet Avenue today. As I did some black guy "psst psst" at me and I unconsciously looked over at him. He was waving his hands - like telling me to come over. I'm Sure - I just kept right on walking.

I'm sitting up on the fourth floor again by the windows waiting for Lens Media to begin. I surprised Cris by coming home for lunch. I watched the rest of Gremlins and hung out the washing too. From this spot you can see the student studio space down on the third floor. It looks like a mess: cardboard on top of the spaces made of pipes tied together - foam, wood, plastic, various art objects, bags of things, a couch, stereos, cupboards...Dire Straits is playing right now...sheets, canvas, various personalities walking about...Strange to think they have no life but that of a student. Carefree, no commitments or time problems. I'm not jealous though, it's just different.

October 1986

I miss my children. I walked into their bedroom to shut off the fish tank and their beds were empty. I wonder how they are. There were about six kids at MCAD today with/waiting for their parents to get out of class. I talked to a young girl about 6 years old - she was coloring.

Being left here alone has only one advantage that I can see - well 2 - but indirectly. It is that I can sleep in tomorrow. It seems like a year since I was able to do this. I probably will wake up at 9:00 because of the silence. It's almost demanding. I listened to Suzanne Vega this morning before heading off to get the bus. Both these experiences were new to me. I planned to stay all day working at shop, welding, but as always goes, the shop closed at 5:00 today, because it's Friday. Oh well. I was doing quite well. Before I went to work, I sat in a comfortable chair and ate lunch as I started reading The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It's a great book. I read the intro and the first two chapters. I found it very interesting. He said that he considers the past to be laid out before us and the future behind. He's right. It all makes sense. Cris's talking helps the ideas enter more smoothly.

Well, in shop, I was doing quite well after my first two braisings. I really started cooking - it was all working out. I started to manufacture the hinges for my egg tube, which I found. The second time I started towards the shears for cutting, I had to move a garbage can to gain access because John was in the way. I let my thumb slide along the inside edge. PAIN! I grabbed John's shirt back and said, "Ouch, ouch, ouch", still not looking at my hand. Then I looked. Oh shit, I sliced my thumb real good about 2-1/2 inches long and 1/4 inch deep. Calmly, as always is my reaction, I applied pressure to my wound with my index finger and walked over to get some first aid. Well, the teacher (the wood shop guy) didn't realize the extent of my injury (probably because I was so calm). I asked for butterfly sutures - they had none so he gave me some tape and gauze and sent me off to the bathroom to bandage myself. I tried - no success. Chuckie was in the wood shop, so I asked her if she could help me. She cordially agreed - though not bandaging quite as tightly as I wished. I took a half hour break to let my fresh wound coagulate a bit. After I got back, my work was going well for awhile, but then I started my bandage briefly on fire with the blow torch - but I survived. I am going back tomorrow to finish what I can.

I was going to go to Bonita's film tonight, but I had no heart to wait around for 2-1/2 hours for it to start so I just went home. 18-21-14 buses. Tomorrow I plan to go to Laurie Anderson's movie with Sarah.

I remember that Cris took the kids to Wisconsin to stay with Lynne. She was one of Cris's platonic relationships - but then maybe there was a voyeuristic quality about it. She lived in the woods - in a small trailer with no running water. She was an alcoholic and a hippie. She had lived next door to us in Bayport and had had a child with her husband Miles in March asfter Aja was born. 

Lynne liked to garden nude. Her young daughter, Nicollet, also ran about naked. Aja and Nicollet would have been about 5 years old - rounding up on 6 years. I am not certain that that wasn't the reason Cris found visiting them so enjoyable. The more my friend discusses things that I write in this blog, the stranger Cris seemed in relation to pedophilia. Aja related a disturbing story about when she was 5 years old and very shy. The bath was running, and Aja was hiding behind the door, wrapped in a towel. Cris opened the door, it was obvious that Aja did not want to be seen either before, during nor after her bath. She told me that Cris said, "I am your father. I can see you naked any time I want."

The scary thing is - I would have never noticed. I am so involved with my inner thoughts that I seldom give a thought to others. I would think that having an Aspergian wife would give someone the heads up on being a child molester. I know in my heart of hearts, none of these thoughts have ever crossed my mind until I started writing the journals and discussing them.

Again - this is the Theory of Mind stuff that is underdeveloped in an Aspergian. I did not mean to ignore my children. They just kind of were "there". I could tell when they were bored, because they whined. I could tell they were hungry, because they had regularly scheduled mealtimes and snacks. I could tell they were tired, because they took a bath as the sun started to set and then we read books. Sometimes they would tell me they were sick, but I never believed them. I let Aja suffer with Strep turned Scarlet Fever for over a month. They have lots of stories to tell about how I never believed their illnesses. But for me to have not noticed that Cris was grooming our daughter as his plaything? The thought never has crossed my mind until now, as I said, and when it was said, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach, "Ick... did I miss this?"