The Ninja's Quest for the Golden Cake

Hi, my name is Kieran. I don’t know how old I am, or was, and I don’t really care. I don’t understand that. You might see me and think I am like every other boy by the way I look. It has gotten my parents into some difficult situations, like the time I changed my reversable shorts at a crowded McDonald’s when I got ketchup on them or like when my mom was asked to leave church because the pastor said I was demon possessed for having a tantrum. You see, I have autism, and the doctor said it’s severe. So much so that he told my dad I’d be a vegetable all my life. I don’t understand that either. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t understand, but more than people give me credit for.

I try to be a good boy, but self-control isn’t in my wheelhouse. My biggest weakness is food. When mom took us to McDonald’s, we would go in the play area with the slides to eat and play. I’d watch her and as soon as she took her eyes off me for a second, I’d run over and steal someone’s food right out from in front of them. It led to many apologies and replaced meals, but it meant little to me because money is one of those things that just doesn’t make sense. Discipline never worked on me. The risk was worth the reward. I just got sneakier, and I would eat until I made myself sick.

Mom and dad once got in a fight over who was drinking all the soda. Every time dad went to get one, they were gone. Mom thought dad was the one drinking them all. I was waiting until they went to bed or not looking to grab one out of the fridge. When I was done with them, I would hide the empty cans behind my bed along with any other evidence that I was in the food. After a while, mom did a thorough cleaning of my room and found all my trash. To this day there are locks on the fridge. However, occasionally, things get left out, and I have to play it cool to get the goods.

One example came at my cousin's birthday party. Now, I like birthdays because there is cake and ice cream and balloons and presents, but I hate all the people that get in your face to talk to you and all the noise. At my cousin’s party, even though I didn’t talk, my parents took me around the house to say hi to everybody. I’d let people hug me even though it made my skin crawl just so I could get a lay of the house and see if there was anything I wanted to get into. It was when we went into the kitchen to say hi to my aunt that I saw it – a two-tier chocolate cake. I knew I had to have it.

From there mom took me into my cousin's room to play with the other kids. I have never really played with other kids. Being in the same room is good enough for me. So, I grabbed a toy where if you turn the nobs and press the buttons Disney characters pop out. It was fun for about a minute, but I couldn’t get my mind off that cake. I could see it from the bedroom doorway. It was like a pile of gold guarded by giant, nasty trolls. I needed to be a stealthy ninja if I were to get by those trolls and claim the gold.

I left the bedroom and stood between the kitchen and living room, staring at the ceiling, spinning in circles as I tend to do to entertain myself. No one took notice, which was good, I was blending in. I went into the living room by my dad who was talking to my uncle and grandpa. I jumped around flapping my arms, laughing hysterically. Nothing out of the ordinary. They were busy talking, not worried about me in the slightest, so I went to check on mom, who was in the kitchen with my aunt. They were busy cooking. No obstacle there, but grandma and a lady I didn’t know were sitting close to the cake. I sat down on the floor next to them and began to hum and rock. I watched them through the corner of my eye to see if they were paying attention. Occasionally, grandma would glance down at me, but her glances became fewer and fewer as I slowly scooted away from them. The time was right.

I had people all around me, but I had blended into the background to the point that no one noticed that I was about to devour my cousin’s birthday cake. With both hands I dug my fingers into the soft cake and shoved it in my mouth, creamy frosting covering my face, crumbs raining down the front of me. I wiped my hands on my shirt and started shoveling in as much as I could as fast as I could. It was only a matter of moments before someone was going to catch me, but the euphoria of the sweetness was overwhelming.

To my surprise, I got halfway through the cake before my aunt turned around with a distressed scream of “Kieran!” That just made me dig faster. I knew mom was on her way. I knew what was coming. But I was getting every crumb I could into my mouth before it happened.

As always, I was unphased by discipline. I was quickly dragged to the bathroom since my hands, face, and clothes were covered in chocolate. Mom scolded me the whole way through. Or maybe she was venting her frustration. I had no clue, but she was angry. After that, dad was put in charge of keeping me busy and out of trouble until dinner.

My aunt salvaged a piece of cake for my cousin and put a candle on it for her. The rest of us had ice cream for dessert. I really wanted more of that cake. It sucked watching them throw away as much as they did. I didn’t understand why they did that, but they do a lot of weird things I don’t understand.

Yep, when it comes to food, I don’t mess around. If it isn’t under lock and key, I will find a way to eat as much as I possibly can. Just because I don’t understand everything everyone else does, doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Underestimate me, and you’ll learn the hard way.