Teddy

A story of how we view those with mental disabilities and who they really are inside.

Teddy

Written By Jay Wesley Johnson

 

            The truth was I had been sitting by myself at the table inside for a while. My head was pounding from how late I had been up the previous night and my eyelids felt as if they had miniature weights tied onto them. The coffee that I was drinking didn’t help either. Due to being new to the coffee ordeal, I always have a fear of burning my mouth, which I did almost instantly after buying the damn thing. I was going to complain, but the person at the counter looked stoned out of their mind. It was probably for the best that I didn’t bother them in their dazed micro slumber and the thoughts of cheap ninety-nine cent burritos.

            I sat there inside the coffee shop and rambled to myself about the problems of being a writer. I had been working on a project that mostly dealt with welsh mythology as well as other uncommon folk lore. The largest problem I faced was the plot of the story. Should the main character be a hero or a petty villain and should I add that controversial text about the character in bed with the lovely maiden he had saved.

            With all of this floating in my mind, I at first didn’t realize him. He was a young, slender man with dark hair and a stained white shirt. His beard made him look like Jesus and his wandering eyes were what began to creep me out. He was standing outside of the coffee shop, staring at me while sat there with my journal of notes open.

            At first I tried to ignore him, but he kept looking at me. I then pretended to write, moving my pen up and down slightly above the pages of my notebook, but then realized I still had the cap on making myself look like an idiot. The man still gazed at me with his eyes that reminded me of a horror film about sub-human spider people. Granted, it was a low budget film, but it was creepy beyond explanation and it gave me nightmares for weeks. Running out of ideas, I swiveled my chair and tried to face my back against him, praying that he’d walk away and bother somebody else.          

            Not even five minutes later as I sat there wondering if he had left, I heard the bell on the coffee shop door jingle (but mostly tap on the side of the glass door due to poor positioning) and rather loud, thumping footsteps approach my table. I told myself not to turn, but like a child wanting to see what he’s told not to I did anyways.

            I couldn’t even ask what he was doing before he pulled up a seat and sat down next to me.  He didn’t sit across the table. No, he had to sit right next to me. The stench from his ratty clothes was unbearable and took any words that might even attempted to form a sentence or a question right out of my mouth. He smelt like he had been sleeping in a dumpster or perhaps living in the sewers.

            Trying to be nice, I gave a weak smile.  The strange man gave an awkward smile back to me, and then stared into my eyes. I wanted to get up from the table and leave, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to move. It was as if I were put under a spell of some kind. A very, very smelly spell that reeked of moldy food and urine. I opened my mouth to try and ask him why he was sitting next to me, but he was the first to speak.

            “Hello.” He said in a weird greeting manor.  The voice hinted he suffered from mental retardation.

            Like a socially awkward person that I am I said “That’s nice.” It was soon after I wanted to smack myself across the face.  What kind of a response was that? “Who are you?” I asked him trying to ignore the smell. He cocked his head back proudly.

            “I’m Teddy McNancey.” He boasted.

            “Really…” was all I could say at the time. He had a childish grin on his face and looked at my notebook. He pointed at it and in the process reviled that he had a questionable brown residue under his finger.

            “Is that a note book?” he asked. I was amazed by his question. Of course it was a note book! He had to have been retarded to ask such a ridiculous question.

            “Well,” I said feeling like I was speaking a child “it is a note book.” He gave a disturbing laugh and clapped his hands together.

            “I knew it was a note book!” he said as excited as could be. “I have a note book too!”

            “Yeah,” I said trying to inch myself away from him slowly “I bet you do.”

            “Julia buys me the kind with the funny money faces on them.” He said still grinning “They’re really funny.” He gave another hushed giggle of laughter. I’ll be honest, I felt like I was sitting next to a pedophile with a laugh like that. Nevertheless, I listened to the man who called himself Teddy. He rubbed his nose and sniffed. “Julia gets mad at me sometimes when I draw pictures in them. She told me that they weren’t for dumb old doodilly-doos. They’re for writing my work in.”

            “Your…work?” I asked him. He bobbed his head up and down.

            “Yep,” he said “Julia tells me I have to write what I do every day in them.”

            “Like a journal?” I asked him, slowly becoming more interested in what he had to say. He bobbed his head up and down like he done before, but this time gave a more vigorous display.

            “Yes, yes, that’s what she calls them.” He said “She says if I don’t I won’t get better.” I examined him.

            “Are you sick?” I asked him. Ted looked down and bit his lip while at the same time clenched his fist and slowly opened it. He repeated the hand motion as he thought about what I had just asked him. It took him a little to think about it.

            “Julia says I am, but I don’t think I am.” He scratched his nose again. “Julia says I’m slow. I’m more slow than normal people.” He sat there in the chair with his hands together and his head sagging low, but his eyes occasionally looked up at me, but never for too long. Something seemed to change; he could no longer look me in the eye. My heart began to feel heavy. “Sometimes people look at me funny.” He told me “I don’t think people like me.”

            I suddenly realized that people were indeed staring at the two of us. Behind Teddy sat a fat man with a large bagel in his hands. He had a raised brow directed toward Teddy as he held his bagel delicately, ready for his next bite.

            “You seem nice.” I told him. The smile that once brightened his face had returned. He and I proceeded to have a conversation. Teddy was a great listener and always seemed to care about what I had to say, unlike some of my friends who tended to ignore me when I poured my heart out to them. Every joke I made he laughed at, even if it was corny. He told me about how he liked to draw and that Julia rarely let him. He only had one journal which was only meant to write in. I managed to figure out that Julia was his sister and that he had been living with her for the past four years after his mother died from breast cancer. I offered to buy him a coffee, but he said that Julia would get mad when he drank anything with caffeine in it. As we continued to carry on our conversation, a young woman entered the shop, relieved to see Teddy sitting at the table with me.

            “Teddy!” she said “There you are. I’ve been worried sick about you!” She walked over to the table then locked eyes with me. “Oh,” she said surprised “I’m sorry. I hope my brother didn’t bother you any.” I gave a wave of my hand.

            “No, no,” I said “not at all.” She smiled at me. She looked at Teddy.

            “Teddy,” she said “I parked the car outside. Can you go and get buckled up while I talk to this nice man.”

            “Okay Julia.” He said still with a radiant smile on his face. He got up from the table and made his way outside, but on his way said goodbye to the fat man eating the bagel. Predictably, he huffed and acted amused, making my blood curdle with anger.

            “Thank you.” She said “It’s not often that someone treats him like a human being.” Once again the fat bagel man huffed, but this time I couldn’t ignore it.

            “Is there I problem?” I asked him little upset. He mumbled under his breath. I looked back to Julia who was standing next to me, waving out the window at Teddy while he sat in the passenger seat of her car. “He’s a nice guy.” I said.

            “For what you did for him, I’d say you are too.” She said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy after meeting someone.” She and I had a small conversation while Teddy sat patiently in the car. She looked back at Teddy as he waved to her once again. “I really need to get going. Again, thank you so much.”

            “Yeah,” I said “I enjoyed his company.” Julia turned to leave the coffee shop, but then I remembered something. I grabbed my journal and handed it to her after taking my notes out of it along with my pen. “Here,” I said “give this to him to doodle in, would you?” At first Julia looked confused. She looked at me funny.

            “But… Are you sure?”

            “I’m positive” I told her “I’ve got a million more at home.” Julia opened the journal and wrote down something with my pen. When she was finished, she tore the paper out and handed it to me; it was a phone number.

            “Give me a call, well, if you want to, but I’m not saying you have to.” I chuckled.

            “Definitely.” I told her. Julia left with Teddy waving goodbye. I waved goodbye back as they drove off. A few minutes later I left for home, thinking about Teddy. It was weird how he approached me, but in the long run I was glad he did. He may have been different on the outside, but he seemed to have more heart than any other person that I’d met in my entire life. I pondered those thoughts for a while until I reached my house. I reached for my keys, still remembering that smile he had on his face.

Author's Note

I wrote this in the early hours of the morning so there may be some grammatical errors or spelling issues, but I'm sure someone will rub that in my face sooner or later if there are. Feel free to state if you liked it or note. Was it good? Did it suck? Somewhere in between?

Reviews

[Weston R.]

I’m just going to jump right into the review. You make good use of detail in the story, Jay; little details, like the stoner at the counter, really help bring the scene to life. However, at the same time, I also think that you should moderate these small details carefully. I’d say to consider going back into the piece, and look for places that chop up the flow: one example, though small, would be when Teddy enters the shop. You say that the narrator/protagonist can hear the doorbell jingle, but then insert a parenthetic note that it was really more of a tap before continuing the sentence. While that’s just a little thing, and it is, I feel little things like that really end up as a roadblock for the otherwise immersing experience those details can serve by disturbing the natural flow and rhythm of the story’s sentences.

Another thing I wanted to touch on was your characterization, I think you did a very good job of doing. Not only did you make a great use of physical descriptive detail with Teddy, but something that I was very impressed with was your characterizing of the protagonist. You did this in a splendidly subtle way; by referencing things through the protagonist’s voice which, while not directly describing him, tell us quite a bit. One example I made note of was the reference to the spider people movie. The fact that he’s watched (and remembers) that type of movie says loads about him. Another one would be the protagonist describing his current writing project: what he’s currently working on speaks to what kind of person he is as well, too. That being said, there was one line which specifically annoyed me when reading. It was the line “like a socially awkward person I am” as an introduction to something the protagonist was about to say. While you make good use of characterization, that one specific line throws off the trend you set for describing your characters.

All of what I said before being said, I think you were successful in this story. In terms of its elements of a story, I really enjoyed it. However, looking at the story for what kind of story it was, I think you could have used more subtlety to make your BIG point about mental disabilities and society. True, you did make your point, but it felt, overall, a bit too black-and-white for me, personally. The one with the mental disability is obviously a nice person, and the fat man is clearly an insensitive evil man, etc. You even spelled out the moral/point at the end—which to me feels like a big no-no. However, don’t take what I just said as me ragging on the story, or saying it’s trash; it definitely isn’t. It’s just not a story that’s personally my cup of tea. Your composition is excellent Jay, minus the few criticisms I raised earlier. You have a great style of writing, and a discipline of which I’m envious. Great work!

-Weston

[unspokenguilt]

Aww, this story made my day! ^__^ My favorite part was most definitely when the writer gave up his journal for teddy's doodles.

Good job, I struggle with writing dialogue myself, but you pulled it off quite well. I definitely got a basic sense on who each character was, just based on their tone. That said there were at least two instances where you didn't write a full dialogue scene, and instead just told the reader the characters were conversing. Don't, remember: show don't tell. It might be better to just do a scene break and resume the story when they're finishing talking.
You've got a good grasp on how to convey what a character is feeling, I especially like how you narrated the protagonists discomfort when Teddy is just watching him. It felt like how a real person would react in the situation.
This is a solid piece of work, but there are moments where you can tell this was written late. Keep up the good work!