“No,” Dale said, his voice barely a whisper. “Let him… come here.”
Jessica looked at Snake, who nodded. She helped Emmett climb onto the bed, being careful of all Dale’s wires and tubes. Emmett snuggled against Dale’s side, and Dale’s arm came around him automatically.
“That’s my… good buddy,” Dale whispered. “You’re so… brave.”
They stayed like that for an hour. A dying biker and a toddler with autism, giving each other exactly what they needed. Dale needed to feel useful, needed, important. Emmett needed to feel safe.
When it was time to go—Emmett was being discharged that day—Jessica had to pry her son away from Dale. Emmett didn’t want to leave. He cried and reached for Dale.
“Dale come?” he asked. “Dale come home?”
Dale’s face broke. “Can’t, buddy. I gotta… stay here. But you… you’re gonna go home. Be with… mama and daddy. Be safe.”
“Dale safe,” Emmett insisted. “Need Dale.”
“You don’t need me,” Dale said gently. “You just needed… someone to show you… you’re gonna be okay. And you are. You’re so strong, Emmett. So brave.”Continue reading…
