Matthew is very handsome, with a tall and wiry frame, broad shoulders, and sandy blonde hair. 'He would be really good looking if he weren't autistic,' my twelve-year-old son says of Matthew, and as unkind as it sounds, I know what he means. They make his day, and I know my smile of gratitude makes theirs. Some snicker and walk away, others show a glimpse of understanding and stop to chat. He's been known to approach strangers with warnings about deadly nightshade, oleander and water hemlock. He wants to be the guy, the poisonous plant and weed expert, and the lawn care authority of our northern California community. Matthew doesn't want just to be a regular guy. They have seen him pushing a gas-powered lawnmower around town with a weed whacker and a leaf blower stacked on top. They have seen him at the skateboard store, pretending he works there, and at the hardware store with his large hands wrapped around a bottle of weed killer, studying the label earnestly. Most of the people in the waiting room have seen Matthew around town and wondered about him. I sat next to him with a straight face while the packed waiting room stifled laughter. To look at his face, you would think he was reading Paradise Lost. Earlier in the day, we had been to the dentist, where Matthew read The Care Bears Go to the Dentist while waiting for his turn. But he is crippled by social awkwardness that, try as we have, we can't train out of him. Matthew is autistic, and wants to be a regular guy in the worst way. 'I want him to think I take care of bad guys.' When I suggest that he remove the junior sheriff sticker from his t-shirt before he goes in, he refuses. 'I want him to think I drove here by myself.' 'No,' replies my 19-year-old son Matthew. 'Do you want me to come in with you while you get your haircut?' Reid Short Story Contest 2007 (view all the winners)

Critiques for Poems, Stories, and Essays.Wergle Flomp Humor Poetry Contest (no fee).Tom Howard/Margaret Reid Poetry Contest.

A Regular Guy by Laura Shumaker