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April 16, 2004

Lupus

Whose brilliant idea was it to start packaging laser paper in crisp plastic?

A couple days ago, I was waiting for Giselle to get out of school (as opposed to being a half hour late or whatever). And I decided to avoid the long double-line of idling cars and had parked a couple lots down. So I was sitting by the covered porch area waiting, and this kid who appears to be an overly-large 4th grader with a pituitary problem, and who was apparently let out a few minutes early, sidles up and starts telling me...things...

"Sure is windy today...::looks up at the blustery flag::...I'd say about 25 miles an hour...the wolf and the wind are my signs...if you ever see wolf claw marks on a tree, that's my sign. They're like my other side. This is my kid side...but the wolf is my other side. That's the part of me that is my rage...My rage is what makes me strong. People have different things that make them strong. Like being sad makes some people strong. Like when somebody dies, and they get sad, and then that makes them stronger. But my rage is what makes me strong. It's my wolf sign. And that's what I become when I'm angry. I become the wolf....It's easier for me to talk to grownups than it is to other kids...."

I was sitting there with my mouth half open, grunting uh-huh at intervals--as impressed as I was afraid. (My sign is the possum. My fear is what makes me strong.) Then he starts telling a story about his Uncle getting shot, and how he and his Dad chased the shooter down, and how he became his wolf side. He did a quick whippity-whip karate maneuver with sound effects to demonstrate the wolf power. And then got to the part where they caught up with the guy, and beat him down. At that very moment, the kids started flooding out the doors, and with a couple more 'wow's and 'I'll be darned's, I took off to find Giselle and slink off to the car.

I really, totally and completely had no idea what to say to the kid. He was obviously bright, but something had happened to him, and he was teetering on the edge. Some lady had escorted him out when he first came outside...the school counselor maybe? I've been debating with myself whether to call the school and ask if he's getting any help. I probably should. As he gets older, he's going to get picked to pieces by the other kids worse and worse every year...and what if he has access to more than his claws when the wolf emerges to protect him?

Posted by Jeremy at April 16, 2004 6:34 PM