Sin City Baby

“I was told people sometimes lie when the person they are talking to is not trustworthy, but I think I am someone who is easy to talk to. Do you think I’m easy to talk to, Hank?”

“I think you’re very easy to talk to, Elsie. So, what did you come up with?”

“People lie for four main reasons. One is to protect someone, another is to protect themselves. Another reason is to gain a strategic advantage, and the other is to hide.”

“To hide?” Hank asked. “What do you mean?”

“For some people, lying is a personal advantage. It helps them to—”

I hung onto my sister’s every word as she stopped in her tracks. It happened a lot with her. Her autism made some things difficult for her to process. Like wrinkles in her socks. She hated wrinkles in her socks and constantly described it as a feeling of sandpaper against her legs. If there was a wrinkle in her sock at any moment, she would have to stop and fix it, otherwise, she couldn’t focus. As intelligent as she was in some areas, she was absolutely childlike in others. That was the push and pull of autism.

She was like that with a lot of things, and I listened as Hank helped her with her current issue.

Her fingers were sticky from the pastry he had brought her from her favorite bakery.

I set my mug in the kitchen sink as I walked into the room. Elsie’s head was on a swivel, her eyes darting everywhere as Hank wiped off her hands. Elsie was trying to get away from him, pulling and tugging as he tried to clean off her hands.

“You’re replacing one issue with another,” I said.

Hank whipped his head up as he let go of Elsie’s hands.

“It’s wet,” Elsie said.

“What would you like to use to wipe your hands off, sis?” I asked, my voice calm. I already knew the answer, but I tried to give my sister some sense of independence, to allow her to voice her own thoughts and opinions without making choices for her. She was perfectly capable of doing so, even if so many people, Hank included, treated her like she didn't.

“The towel in the closet. It’s red and yellow. Not the one with the polka dots, but the one with the stripes. It has to be the one with the stripes. The one with the polka dots—”

“Is for your shower,” we both said in unison.

Elsie shot me an appreciative grin, nodding her head. I smiled back. My sister needed some help with day-to-day things, it's why she moved in with me, but she wasn't dependent on me. Not entirely. Besides, I liked having her around. I was one of the few people who got her and didn't treat her like she was broken.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Hank?”

“Yep?”

“She’s not a fucking child. She can clean off her own damn hands,” I said.

Hank followed me as I made my way to the hallway closet. I shoved towels aside and reached toward the back of the closet. Elsie always put her things far out of sight, so scared of anyone else touching them. If she thought for one second someone had used her stuff, it had to be thrown away, and a new one had to be purchased. So, she tried to minimize the effects by pushing her things to the back.

“When you’re done, you need to get dressed,” Hank said.

“A step ahead of you, since you’re not staring at my bare ass right now,” I said.

“Into something nice. You’re coming with me this morning.”

“Gotta help Paul,” I said, as I found Elsie’s rag.

I shut the closet door and handed off the towel to my sister.

“Thank you, Hank. I am going to go finish my book now. I’m about to start the chapter on human behavior entitled, ‘Love.’”

“When you master that concept, I’ll make us a pot of coffee, and you can explain it to me,” I said. “I'm sure you have some fascinating insights.”

“I will definitely let you know when I’m done,” Elsie said.

She sat down at her desk but waited until we left to begin typing. She didn't like to write with people around, it distracted her. I motioned for Hank to follow me out of the room, and said, “Love you, sis,” before closing the door behind her.

When we reached the hall, I turned back to Hank, a scowl on my face.