Turn 174 of 233

Skip to Kimo's 10 month checkup

The clinic is the same clinic and the same is the thing that grounds the numbers. Lena carries Kimo through the waiting room and the carrying is 112 pounds and the 112 is the number she feels in her arms and the number is the thing that has grown from 78 and the 78 was three months ago. Three months since the last visit and the three months is the window Dr. Parekh asked for and the asking was the thing that gave the curve room to show what it is. The curve has shown. Lena is naked — 680 pounds of tribal-black tattooed skin, rainbow hair, yellow teeth, callused feet on linoleum — and the naked is the thing she is and the thing she has been for over a year. The waiting room is empty at six in the morning and the empty is the thing Dr. Parekh arranged because Dr. Parekh knows what Lena is and does not ask her to be different.

Kimo is standing on the exam table and the standing is the thing he does now the way he breathes — without thinking, without deciding, the body just doing it. He is 46 inches tall and the 46 is the number Dr. Parekh is measuring and the measuring is the tape and the tape is the thing that has been too short for the chart since the beginning. He is barefoot and the barefoot is the only thing he knows. His feet are wide and flat and the flat is the thing that says the pads are thick and the thick is the thing that running on grass and concrete and balcony floor has built. He weighs 112 pounds and the 112 is the scale number and the scale number is the thing that is 2.5 times ten and the 2.5 is the multiplier that has held since birth and the holding is the thing that is the line.

"Word list," Dr. Parekh says. The saying is the routine and the routine is the structure that holds the visit together.

Lena pulls her phone and the phone has the spreadsheet and the spreadsheet is the thing that Janet also keeps on her own phone and the keeping is the thing two women do from different ends of the state. The screen shows the words and the words are the thing that are more than fifty-seven. They are more than eighty. They are the thing that Dr. Parekh predicted and the predicted has been exceeded and the exceeding is the thing that is the staircase.

"Eighty-nine words," Lena says. "The burst pattern held but the gaps kept shrinking. After mama, the next burst came in five days — nine words. Then four days — eleven words. Then three days — fourteen words. The last burst was two days ago, two-day gap, sixteen words. The gaps went from nine days to five to four to three to two. Each burst is larger than the last. He's not just learning words faster — he's learning categories. The first burst after mama was names — Sina, Samuel, Janet, Walt. Then pronouns — me, you, he, she. Then verbs — jump, climb, carry, lift, eat, drink, sleep. Then adjectives — big, small, heavy, light, sharp. Then time words — morning, night, today, tomorrow, yesterday. Then questions."

Lena stops and the stopping is the thing that says the next part is the part that changed everything.

"He said 'what that' three weeks ago. Pointing at the excavator on the east-side site. Then 'why' two weeks ago. Then 'where go' last week. He's asking questions, Dr. Parekh. He's not labeling. He's asking."

Dr. Parekh's pen has stopped moving. The stopped is the thing Lena has seen three times before — at five months when Kimo tracked the pen, at seven months when the word count doubled, and now. The pen is still and the still is the thing that says the container has been exceeded again and the again is the thing that is the pattern that has no ceiling.

"Eighty-nine words at ten months," Dr. Parekh says. She says it the way she says every number — stating it, placing it, letting it exist as a fact before she builds on it.

"And the burst acceleration continued. Five-day gaps down to two-day gaps. Sixteen words in the most recent burst. That's not a staircase anymore, Lena. A staircase has steps. This is a curve going vertical."

"He asks questions."

"I heard you. Questions are — that's a categorical shift. Labeling is identification. Questions are inquiry. He's not just naming the world. He's trying to understand it. That's not a ten-month milestone. That's not an eighteen-month milestone. Question formation — what, why, where — that's typically twenty-four to thirty months."

Kimo is watching Dr. Parekh's pen. The watching is the thing he did at five months and the thing he does now and the difference is that at five months the watching was curiosity and now the watching is something else. He reaches for the pen and Dr. Parekh lets him take it. He holds it the way he held it at five months — between thumb and forefinger, functional grip. But then he does the thing he did not do at five months. He puts the pen on the clipboard. He moves it across the surface. The moving leaves a mark and the mark is a line and the line is the thing that a pen makes when a hand moves it and the hand is Kimo's.

He looks at the line. He looks at Dr. Parekh. He looks at the line.

"What that," he says. The saying is the question and the question is about the mark and the mark is the thing he just made and the made is the thing he is asking about. He is asking about his own action. He made a thing and the thing is new and the new is the thing he wants to understand.

Dr. Parekh takes the pen back and the taking is gentle. She looks at Lena and the looking is the looking of a doctor who has been charting a boy who does not fit any chart and the not fitting is the thing that has become the chart.

"The physical growth is the line. 2.5 multiplier, holding steady. 112 pounds, 46 inches. Predictable. The language is the curve going vertical. Eighty-nine words with accelerating bursts. The motor cognition is — I don't have a shape for it. He's writing. Not letters, not words, but marks on a surface with a tool, intentionally, and then asking about the marks. That's not mimicry anymore. That's creation and inquiry in the same action."

Lena watches Kimo on the exam table. He is standing and the standing is his. He is humming and the humming is the drone that lives between words and the between is so short now that the drone is almost gone — the words come and come and the coming is the thing that fills the spaces where the humming used to be. He looks at the window and the looking is at the parking lot and the parking lot has trucks and the trucks are the thing he sees.

"Truck," he says. Then: "Where go?"

Dr. Parekh writes. The writing is fast and the fast is the thing the pen does when the pen is trying to keep up. Lena puts her hand on Kimo's back and the hand is the hand that drives nails and the hand is the hand that held him on the trail when he said mama and the hand is on his back and the back is 46 inches of boy who is ten months old and asking where the truck is going.

"Three months," Dr. Parekh says. "Next appointment in three months. Unless something changes. Anything changes. You call me."

Lena nods and the nod is the nod she gives every visit. She lifts Kimo off the table and the lifting is 112 pounds and the 112 is the thing she feels and the feeling says he is heavier and the heavier is the thing that keeps coming. She carries him out of the clinic and the carrying is 112 pounds on a body that is 680 and the 680 makes 112 a thing she holds the way she holds a stud — with mass and with care and the care is the thing that does not bend.