Something I found difficult to type.

You’ve mentioned having Aspie kids before. As an Aspie myself, with a little brother who is also one, I’d like to see you show the world (or at least, your readers) why Aspies and Auties (Autistics) are not “broken”, nor are they “just trying to be difficult”, nor are they “emotionless sociopaths” or “shoving [your] face in [their] differences”, “making excuses” or even “just whinging.”

I want to see how Aspies and Auties are all different from each other. I want to see how they are different to Nypicals (love that, btw) but different does not equal bad. I want to see how even when we’re struggling to comprehend something a Nypical considers basic and easy, we’re not stupid or “retarded.” I want to see it shown that there are things we grok instinctively that are considered something you spend weeks teaching a Nypical to do.

Most of all, I want to see how even radically different points of view and thinking processes, to the degree that neither side can easily understand how the other could even come _close_ to thinking that way or seeing the world in such a manner, are not necessarily wrong and in fact can be necessary to solving a problem.

I want to be transported to a world where no more will a gamete-donor say to the parent of an Aspie or Autie child “send ‘em to me for a fortnight, I’ll beat it out of 'em.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got something in my eye… – RecklessPrudence

[AN: I prefer “Autistes” (pron: AW-tees-ts) for folks like my kids and I who are riding the ASD rainbow]

(#00302)

They called her 'Lizard’ on a good day, and it wasn’t related to her name. Ellie stared. She stared at things, she stared at people. Once something had her focus, it or they had her rapt an unblinking attention, sometimes for hours at a time.

It took days to explain to Ellie that you didn’t follow people to watch them.

Jon was used to it. Being her big brother got him on the inside circle to a wondrous place only Ellie could see. He held her when she was very little, smiled at her unblinking stare as she contemplated the significance of his face while she chewed on her hand.

He got his first glimpse of Ellieworld when she started yelling at the Numberjacks, solving their number-related problems before they were quite done explaining the problem. She was two. Other things annoyed Ellie, like new things happening. She hated changes of plans and would carefully explain the old plan as a need.

She cried for months about the loss of her favorite cup.

But not everything Ellie loved had to be in order. She delved into animated worlds of wonder, and spent a lot of her waking hours inside them.

Jon could see the appeal of worlds where everyone was friendly and nobody judged anyone on how they coped with the world.

And when he wasn’t busy with things of his own, he’d try to teach Ellie how to blend in with the Normals. Sometimes, it went well. Other times… well… Ellie put on her earmuffs and sang her way into Ellieworld and nothing more could be done until someone could coax her out.

None of his friends understood her. How hard it was for Ellie to step outside of her wonderful self-place and run the risk of encountering horrible people in a horrible world. Every time he bought Ellie somewhere, to test her new coping skills or to help her observe Normals in their native habitat. It rarely ended well.

This time, it was one of the good ones.

Jon had done the idiot thing and listened to a pretty girl. It was supposed to be a spooky camp with nothing going on except some inconsequential scares and perhaps some illicit sex.

And then the aliens turned up.

They woke up in a maze. All things considered, it was a heck of a lot better than waking up in an experimental lab minus all their clothes.

Everyone was freaking out, but Jon went to Ellie first. Because Ellie was humming her Ellieworld song. She had her hands over her ears and she was rocking.

She clung to him like a vice. “It’s bad here. I want Froofy.”

Jon tensed in anticipation of the cackles from his contemporaries. But they never came. “Froofy isn’t here, Ellie. Would you like to hold my coat, instead?”

Vigorous nod. “Mm-mm…”

“I’m gonna need my arm back, okay?”

“Mmmm…”

He got himself untangled and made an impromptu replacement Froofy with easy, practiced movements. Ellie would be calming down quickly, with something soft to hold.

Carrie was staring. “Man. I wish I had a Froofy…”

Jon shrugged. “Well, we’re Nypical. We have to do without.”

“Nypical?” sneered Scott. “Is that what Lizard calls us?”

“Her name is Ellie,” said Jon. “And no. Psychologists call us Nypical. Short for Neurotypical. I’m cool with it, and it’s easier to say. Got it?” It was a habit, now, to add a fist in the air as an emphasis to the idea that opposition to his concepts would not be tolerated.

“Awright, there’s no need for that. I got it.”

Fay wiped her eyes. “O God, we’re going to die…”

“We are not going to die,” said Jon. “If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead. They’re testing us. So we gotta pass. And we’re going to pass together, right?”

“Even Lizard?”

“Especially Ellie,” said Jon.

Which was a good thing, because Ellie figured out more of the labyrinth ahead of them than the rest of them put together.

By the end of it, they were all using her name.

What met them at the exit was a lizard. A lizard in clothes. It matched Ellie stare for unblinking stare.

At last, Ellie said, “You’re what they call me.”

The lizard nodded. It pressed a button.

“You have seen the worth,” said a mechanical voice. “If you vow to educate others, you will be rewarded.”

Jon was the first to step up. “I’ve been trying to teach folks since I was old enough to work out Ellie was special.”

The lizard handed him a little remote. It had two buttons. Enter and Exit. And a hole for a lanyard.

One by one, his friends stepped forward. Some promised to try. Some admitted they might fail. But they all got the little remotes.

Ellie got hers - and a lanyard - without such a promise.

Of course. She taught people just by existing.

And then they were back at their camp as if nothing had ever happened.

Ellie was the first to try the Enter button. The portal that opened showed a glimpse of another world. Jon knew it on sight, even though he had only ever heard about it before.

They each had a door into Ellieworld.

The trick, Jon realized, would be in wanting to leave.

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