I considered Daniel a friend. Not only was he an incredible leader, he had also impressed me on numerous occasions with his astute understanding and sensitive handling of non-neurotypical people. I wasn’t surprised he had come over from our team room in the building next door to meet Caelan.
“I’m not doing well.” Caelan stared at his fingers tapping against his thighs. “I can’t stop this tic. Last week, I told Jace that I haven’t had a shutdown or meltdown in three months and have been able to control my stimming for more than six months.”
“What is causing you such anxiety?” Daniel asked.
“Jace is gone.”
Daniel looked at us with his eyebrows raised. Colin shrugged. “We were just asking him about Jace.”
“Jace is my partner.”
“Business partner? Study partner?” Vinnie asked.
“Geocaching partner.”
There was a moment of silence in the room. Phillip carefully put his coffee mug on the table. “Please indulge me by explaining what geocaching is.”
Caelan glanced at Phillip’s shoulder. “There are caches hidden and we find them.”
“Caches of what?”
“Riddles.” Caelan shrugged. Then he shrugged again and again until a tear rolled down his cheek. “I can’t stop.”
“Which mountain is the closest to the moon?” I asked.
“Chimborazo in Ecuador is the closest to the moon. Everest is merely the highest in terms of sea level.”
“How many active volcanoes in Japan?”
His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes for a second before focusing on my left shoulder. “One hundred and eight.”
“How many countries are completely surrounded by another country?”
“Three.” He snorted, raised the index finger he’d been tapping on his thigh and counted out on his other hand. “Lesotho, Vatican City and San Marino.”
Colin took my hand and squeezed it.
Caelan’s dark skin regained some colour, his facial muscles relaxing slightly. He looked at his hands both resting on his thighs, then at me. “I see what you did, Doctor Lenard. It helped.”
“I recommend creating hypothetical questions that will distract your mind when you’re distressed. You’ll be too busy building valid arguments to allow your mind to become severely overwhelmed.” I leaned forward to make sure he paid attention. “It might not always work. I’m sure you’ve already discovered that what works once might not work again. At least not in the exact way it worked before. You just have to continue experimenting until you find what works for you.”
“Is that how you manage?” There was hope in his usual monotone.
“Most of the time.” I felt tension entering my shoulders. “I hate to admit that it doesn’t always work. Sometimes the external stimuli are too much, too fast, too overwhelming for me to put my usual methods in place fast enough.”
“That’s exactly what my therapist keeps telling me.” He slumped into his chair. “I hate it when he repeats himself. It’s like he thinks I’m stupid. But maybe I am. I practice all the exercises he’s given me, but now that something really bad happened, I’ve lost all the control I’d gained.”
“I assume the bad thing you’re talking about is your geocaching partner being gone.” Daniel waited until Caelan nodded. “What do you mean by ‘gone’?”
“I can’t contact him.” Caelan’s breathing hitched. “We’ve been partners in geocaching for two years, seven months and five days.”
“Has he done this before?” Daniel asked.
Caelan shook his head. “Never. He always answers when I call him. Always.”
“Do you have any theories on why he’s not answering your calls?”
Caelan’s eyes widened. “Theories, no. But I’m convinced his phone is turned off or the battery is completely discharged. When I phone him, the call immediately goes to voice mail.”
“Does he ever turn his phone off?”
“Pah!” Caelan snorted. “Never. He’s a heavy user. He checks and double-checks everything on his phone.”
“Could it be that his battery is depleted, but he’s safely at home?” Vinnie asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I knocked on his door until his neighbours told me to leave. He didn’t open.”
“You said he’s like you and Jenny.” Colin took a sip of his coffee. “Do you mean he’s autistic?”
“Yes. But he’s nonverbal.”
“Completely?” Despite the many obstacles I faced dealing with being on the spectrum, including my difficulty communicating with neurotypical people, I’d been fortunate enough to be verbal. Even if my words offended people most times I spoke.
“Yes.” Caelan’s voice hitched and he started tapping on his thigh again. He blinked a few times and inhaled deeply. “The Dead Sea is four hundred and thirty metres below sea level. About ten percent of the earth’s surface is permanently covered with ice. There are no rivers in Saudi Arabia.”
Vinnie watched Caelan with concern pulling his eyebrows down. When Caelan pressed his palms flat against his thighs and took a shaky breath, Vinnie looked at me. “What is the difference between completely nonverbal and not completely nonverbal?”
“Research has revealed that nearly a third of people on the autism spectrum use only a few words or even no spoken language. Nonverbal autism is poorly researched and far too little is known about the thought processes of individuals who don’t speak. Even though quite a few nonverbal people can’t use spoken language effectively, they are able to communicate in different ways. Written or typed language is the most common, but sign language and digital communication devices are being used more often now as well.”
“And just because Jace doesn’t talk doesn’t mean he’s stupid or he doesn’t understand.” Caelan glanced at our phones lying on the conference room table. “That’s another reason why he uses his phone so much. He types out messages faster than most people type on a computer. With a hundred percent accuracy.”
“No typos and autocorrect disasters.” Daniel smiled at Caelan. “Tell us more about Jace. What is his full name and surname? How old is he?”
“Jason Connelly.” He paused when Daniel typed the name onto his tablet screen. “Are you looking for him?”
“Just checking if someone else reported him missing.”
“No one else would.” Caelan lifted one shoulder. “He doesn’t have any friends here, his mother is dead and his sister is in Australia. She works there and doesn’t like Jace. I’m his only friend.”
“You’re a good friend.” Daniel leaned towards Caelan. “Jace is lucky to have you. Tell me more about him.”
“He’s three years older than me. He’s twenty-five. He’s finishing his second doctorate degree. His first was in forensic anthropology, this one is in Persian history. He is fluent in seven languages.”
“Goodness.” Phillip’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “Seven?”
“French, English, Gaelic, Irish, Russian, Finnish and Arabic.”
“Interesting choices.” Most people chose the more romantic languages like Italian and Spanish. “Explain the cache you were looking for. How does such a search take place?”
“We belong to a society of gifted people.” He glanced at Daniel, Vinnie and Phillip. “Do you know what it means to be gifted?”
Vinnie frowned. “Someone who has natural talents, like for math or music?”
Caelan sneered. “I was right thinking you wouldn’t know. You’re talking about talented people. Gifted individuals have certain characteristics that make them different. Their IQs are in the top two to three percent of the population. They are often seen as eccentric or quirky, they are intense and driven, too sensitive and prone to question authority. They are unable to switch off their thinking, are introverted and need periods of contemplation. They are self-disciplined, imaginative, highly curious, perceptive, creative, insightful, flexible, have a wide range of interests and—”
“Stop.” I recognised the typical autistic tendency to over-explain and I placed my hand on the table. “You’ve explained enough. Rather continue about the society and looking for the cache.”
“Not everyone is interested in creating the caches and searches. Some—like Jace and I—just want to take part in the search.”
“Like a treasure hunt,” Vinnie said.
“It’s not a treasure hunt.” Caelan frowned and turned away from Vinnie. “There’s no treasure.”