“Thirty minutes,” That’s all my supervisor said.

It wasn't the amount of time I was worried about.  It was whom she gestured to with her hand that put a weight on my shoulders.  She made sure to point at him and give me the thumbs up which, of course, meant I was assigned to Emrys.

Out of all the kids in the after-school program where I work, Emrys was the one that I dreaded having in my line.  The concept of remaining silent remained an unknown fact to him.  He couldn't conceal the constant desire to share stories or opinions, pull the girls’ hair, make inappropriate noises, and scurry down the halls.  When he was in “the mode,” as we called it, there was no stopping him.

Hesitantly, I took the young boy with me.  As I led the line of twenty-five kids outside, I prayed that he wouldn't cause any harm.  I ushered the children into performing the walk-and-talk and steered Emrys to his designated spot for the day.  On this day, he was confined to the equipment which consisted of multiple slides and the typical jungle gym accessories.
He reinstated what I already knew, “I stay on the equipment today.”

“Yes.”  I impatiently tapped my foot, desperately trying to keep one eye on him and one eye on the others.
“I pretend that there is a barrier around this place, so when I try to escape….”  He ran past the slide, came to a sudden stop at the grass, and fell backwards.  His acting skills were impressive for someone so young.

“You okay there, Buddy?”  I knew he was fine but reassured him that I paid attention.

“Yep, that’s what happens when I try to get out.”  He beamed, pleased with the attention I gave him.

“Oh, I see.”

I gazed at him for a moment while he gathered the miniature pieces of rock below the slide.  I conflicted with myself.  Why should Emrys be apart from the other kids?  We all knew that if he were allowed around them for a long period of time, one of them would get hurt.  He was known to punch and shove, but why wouldn't we work on that?  Why would we choose to take him away from children instead of teaching him how to behave properly?

He contemplated the slide for a while before a frustrated look came across his face. “Why can’t I go play soccer with the other boys?”

A twinge of pain crossed my chest.  I could see the frustration in his eyes as he scooped the rocks and helplessly let them drop through his fingers.  Emrys adored soccer.  I knew that.  He was always the first to the ball cart, only to be told that he was to stay imprisoned in a single area, away from the others.  Slowly, he’d turn around and walk with shrugged shoulders back to my side.  It wasn't fair. 

“I’ll make you a deal.  If you play on the equipment for a few more minutes, I’ll let you go play soccer with the boys.”  I held my breath and awaited his answer.

To my relief, his face lit up and a large grin spread along his cheeks, “Okay!”  He scurried off.  I watched as he climbed the net.  It wasn't long before my instinct kicked into gear and I knew exactly what he was going to do. 

“Emrys, don’t even think about climbing on top of that tunnel,” I said lightheartedly.  His foot continued to raise.  “I mean it.”
Within a few seconds, he was six feet off the ground and towering above me. “LOOK!”  The pride in his eyes was that of a lion. 
“Emrys, what did I just say?  I’m counting to five and you will be down here.”  The scolding tone in my voice raised, but his casual sitting continued.
“One.”  He threw me a testing look.
“Two.”  His leg began to swing around.
“Three.”  Now both legs were parallel.
“Four.”  He rushed to scoot off the tunnel.
“Five.”  His feet hit the ground and he was sure to send a smile to me.
“Can I go play now?”
“No.”

This was routine for Emrys.  Desperately, he asked to go play, and teachers always shook their heads or ushered him away.  I felt terrible whenever I did the same.  Once again, I went back to carefully examining his every movement.  Emrys was always there physically, but sometimes he would venture into a different world in his mind.  If there is one thing Emrys has going for him, it’s his imagination.  All he needs to be entertained is the air.  I tiredly observed as he swayed his arms around and spoke to an invisible figure only Emrys could possibly see.

“Emrys, come here.”  Within a minute, he was looking up to me. “I’ll make you another deal.”
“Okay!”
“If you can show me how to perfectly go down a slide, you can go play soccer.”

“Okay!”  He rushed up the net and positioned himself along the slide.  I watched carefully as he straightened his legs in front of him, put his arms to his side, sat up straight, and went down the long, blue tube.
“Perfect. You may go.”

He sprinted to the field without a thank you.  Just to see him run without being confined put a grin across my face.  He eased his way into the game, and the other kids welcomed him without hesitation. 

It wasn't long before the thirty minutes with Emrys were finished.  I called in the kids.  As we lined up, I glanced over to six year old Emrys, happy as can be.  I smiled to myself.  He looked so casual standing there with two athletic boys by his side.  One would never guess of the ailment he lived with every day.

 Many people claim that Emrys suffers from autism.  After spending precious time with this eager boy, I've realized that this isn't the case.  He does not suffer from that which he has little knowledge of in his thoughts.  He is a child like any other, innocent as the wind, and curious as a cat.  A child with autism only needs one thing—to be free.