I have loved Brandon since the day he was born. Even then, he wasn't like other babies.

He never cried, not when he was hungry or sad or upset. From an early age, he met this big

world with silent determination. As he got older, he didn't speak or show any interest in any toys

we bought him.

Despite all this, I never had any trouble connecting with him.

My wife was always concerned with his silence and unwillingness to socialize with other children.

She wanted to take him to a developmental psychologist, but I dragged my feet.

So, he liked to keep to himself.

What was the harm in that?

Not everyone can be an extrovert.

It often led to fights.

She thought I was neglecting him.

And I felt she couldn't accept Brandon for who he was.

When Brandon turned three, he found his favorite hobby, taking apart paper clips and twisting the metal into a loop at the top, then forming arms and legs into

makeshift stick figures. He could spend hours of the day doing this, and it made watching

him a breeze. Eventually, Sally stopped nagging about the childhood psychologist,

but I still saw the worry in her eyes today as she left for work.

It's because of her job, I think as I look back over the screen.

My job allows me to work from home, and it's pretty hands-off most days.

It allows me to spend the days with Brandon. It saves us on a sitter, and it allows my wife to work as a teacher. He's a complacent kid, playing quietly behind me in the home office. I open the new file to send to my manager when my screen flippers, and the entire house goes silent and dark.

I spin around in my chair, and my heart stops as I see Brandon.

He's crumpled onto the floor near one of the power outlets, his short hair standing on his head.

...