the bald truth

*

*

Sunday Afternoon in Maine -

Luau sits in a lounge chair by the edge of the pool reading. Katie toodles around on a floating ‘chair’ she’s jury-rigged out of noodles and a kick-board. Brooke stands in the water, content for now to pace along the wall of the shallow end.

I sit on the steps sipping a pina colada and explaining to Katie that yes, this does count as Mama being in the water – you’ll understand when you’re older.

There’s a couple of twenty-somethings playing catch across the pool, one standing in the shallow end just a couple of feet from Brooke’s path. She approaches him with a question.

“What’s your name?”

He looks taken aback, but answers.

“My name’s Alden.”

She either didn’t hear him or the unfamiliar name didn’t register, so she asks for a repeat.

“What?”

He tries again.

“My name’s Alden.”

A pitch perfect script follows.

“It’s nice to meet you, Alden.”

I love, love, love when she says ‘It’s nice to meet you’. I’m grinning from ear to ear watching my girl. Katie catches my eye. I wink at her.

Alden asks Brooke her name and says that it’s nice to meet her too.

And then she drops the bomb.

“Are you bald?”

Alden, who is indeed bald, stays just composed enough to say, “Yes, I guess I am.”

Well, hey, it could be worse, right? I mean, the guy is bald. It is what it is. And well, it works for him. He wears it – or doesn’t wear it, as the case may be – well.

And then she goes in for the kill.

“Do you remember when you had hair?”

A group of Alden’s friends are sitting on the pool deck not far away from where we are. From the look of the delightfully bemused expressions on their faces, I’d bet that this story is going to get some mileage.

Alden sputters a little, then laughs. “Well, it’s been a pretty long time.”

Brooke resumes her shallow water pacing and it becomes clear that she’s done talking.

Alden looks around for an explanation. He catches my eye and I know that I have to say something. I have no idea what to say, but I really have to say something.

I don’t want to apologize. That seems totally wrong. Right? No? Oy. Listen, the guy is bald. No denying it. So if I apologize for her drawing attention to that fact, aren’t I applying some judgement to said baldness? Oh dear Lord, what if he has cancer? I, um, Oh my God, HELP!

I look at Katie. She’s staring at her sister, her mouth hanging open. Nothing. I look over to Luau. He’s laughing. Damn it, people, throw me a lifeline here.

Alden looks amused. Or mad. Or confused. I can’t tell behind his sunglasses. Either way, it’s obvious that he’s not quite sure what just hit him. No one told him when he’d jumped into the pool that he’d also entered Autism Land – Welcome! Please leave all filters at the border. 

I finally say the only thing I can think to add.

“I see you’ve met my daughter.”

**

Alden, wherever you are, thanks for being a good sport. And sorry that your friends are going to razz you until the end of time. – Jess