Building walls

Camden looked at what he had built. Strong, secure, tightly fitted. So absolute in the security it provided. There wasn’t much space to move, true, but what space there was, was his. Nothing could scare him in here.

Mom called from outside so he made the wall translucent in that direction.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Peter will be here soon. Have you got the toys out that you want to play with?”

“Yes.”

“What did you put out?”

Camden made his wall less translucent.

“My two rifles, Mom.”

“But you know Peter loves to play with Lego.”

Camden hardened the part of the wall over his hurting place.

“But he always breaks my stuff, Mom!”

“No he doesn’t, he builds with you. You have to learn to share, honey, you will be very lonely if you don’t play with other children.”

The hurting place pulsed, pushing hard, but Camden held it firm with more layers. Containing pain was getting easier.

“But he doesn’t build my way.”

“That’s because he isn’t you. Try it his way and see if you like it. You don’t know whether something is good until you have tried it.”

Camden’s face stubborned.

“Camden! I am not having this argument with you again. You will do as I say or there will be no XBox for the rest of this week.”

Mom’s fierceness pierced the wall. Camden’s new construction turned it away from him, rolling it into a tight ball, then squeezing it until it became a flat plate. He pushed the plate over his caring place, and bolted it down.

“OK Mom.”