Catching Rainbows

4

I rode cloud nine back to our apartment over the bookstore, but descended as soon as I got out of my car and heard the muted screaming. "Shit," I said, sighing. 

I let myself in the kitchen door, and the noise increased tenfold. The sink was full of dishes, the garbage near to overflowing. The floor needed sweeping, mopping. I overlooked it all for the moment. 

My cousin Nathaniel, who was seven, sat at the table wearing his green headphones. He gave me a half smile and winced exaggeratedly at the sound coming from down the hall. I ruffled his hair as and went to see what I could do.

In the bedroom, Nate's five year old sister thrashed and cried on the bed as my tired aunt tried to hold her and keep her from hurting herself. Hailie was what the experts called "twice exceptional" For her that meant she was advanced in many ways and intellectually gifted in the true sense of the word, meaning her IQ had tested at well above average. 

She was also autistic, which for her mostly meant having emotional and social delays. Her sensory wiring was all mixed up too, and she was easily overloaded, which sometimes caused uncontrollable meltdowns. With anxiety and ADHD added to the mix, there was a lot going on in her little body and mind. 

A lot of the time she was a vibrant chatterbox with a million ideas, but the meltdowns made it really hard for her. And we were on the fourth day in a row of bad ones. Plus, she'd never slept well and got up before dawn every day and several times in the night still. 

My aunt, sixteen years my senior, just moved along in a haze of exhaustion most of the time. She looked up at me now, relief all over her face. I was better at helping and handling Hailie than she was, and it wasn't a secret. I had a lot more patience and had taken the time to learn all I could about her special needs, so I could try to understand her. 

"Okay, Luna's here," I said, not that it stopped her in any way but I wanted her to know. I hung up the blackout curtain and switched on the My Little Pony night light from the dollar store, then went to sit by her. My aunt handed me the soft pink blanket from the floor and I motioned for her to leave as I switched on the lullaby player. She did, closing the door softly behind her.

I took my little cousin in my arms, wrapping her blankie around her. She was nearly worn out, which meant she'd been going for awhile.  

"Shhh," I told her, holding her tightly because the pressure would help calm her. I rocked her as she cried, her little face squinched up and red. "I tried to m-m-make the bed for Minnie and I CAN'T!" she said. "I RIPPED it!" She clung to me, her damp little face against my shoulder. "I can't do anything right Lulu."

"Shhh," I said again. She never heard those words from anyone. It was her own "bad brain", as she called it, giving her those thoughts. "You're just having a hard time." I felt around until I found one of her pacifiers, made sure it was the red one, and rose with her to walk to the bathroom sink. I rinsed it off, because she wouldn't take it otherwise, and put the ring in her small hand.

"Is it clean?" she asked as always, not waiting for an answer. She raised it to her mouth, sucking in relief even as her eyelids drooped. I sat back down on the bed with her and wiped her face, my heart aching. We'd tried so many things to help her, seen so many doctors and therapists and specialists. We could find little rhyme or reason to the meltdowns and we were all so tired.

"Here, just lie down and I'll rub your back, I'm right here," I murmured, gently setting her down and pulling up the other blankets, including her weighted one. It was specially made to provide a calming sensation from the heaviness.

She was still flushed but her breathing deepened, finally. I felt my own anxiety dissipate some as she relaxed and sucked on her pacifier. We didn't worry about dental problems or the judgmental stares of strangers; it was one of the only things that soothed her and we would use it as long as it worked. Who cared what people thought. 

I stayed with her for a few more minutes and then eased off the bed like a ninja. It was only three in the afternoon, though she'd been up since four that morning. No matter what we did regarding naps or sleep, nothing made a difference. She had never slept through the night. 

I turned her box fan on high, pointed at the corner. It helped mask sounds, and the white noise helped her sleep. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

With any luck she would stay out for a few hours at least. 

I turned the doorknob carefully and eased the door open, stepped out, and did the reverse to close it. Then I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to get back into my happy zone with thoughts of my new friend, even if that's all she could be.