THE BARON, PART IV

Jack had an air about him that gave strangers the feeling that he must be someone important. He was very well mannered, well groomed and his aloofness made people basically give him the royal treatment.

He didn't have the typical physical appearance that some retarded people have. It usually took strangers quite a while to recognize the fact that Jack was mentally challenged because he was good at role playing. The fact that his parents were never ashamed of him, and never hid him away when he was growing up says a lot about their determination to make Jack fit in. Typically, retarded people are very good at mimicking behavior and in Jack's case, he had an extensive vocabulary that fooled people into thinking he was very worldly. My grandparents traveled extensively in their later years, and Jack went with them to numerous countries and cultures.

We were all amazed at the royal treatment Jack received in public. The stories were numerous. I have taken Jack to fancy restaurants, and let him give the hostess his name for the waiting list, only to have her seat us right away...practically bowing to Jack! I would ask him what he said to get to the top of the list and he never had an answer.

So, that's just a bit more insight into the man I always called The Baron. The man who wanted to marry me. The man who told everyone I was is favorite....and no bribe in the world could make him change his mind. It was for no other reason than the fact that I was silly. Jack loved silly. Jack used to say I made him hi.steer.a.cal. I was also someone who loved having Jack around. Even when he wouldn't lend me $2 for gas, telling me "if you run out of gas, you'll learn your lesson". I loved making time for him and taking him places like zoos, the beach, and there was always that banana split or any ice cream to win him over.

Now I have a cute story....one that I've hinted about. Jack going to confession. Jack went to confession all the time. He was raised strict in the Catholic faith, and my grandparents used this as a tool in handling Jack, keeping him in check. Don't get me wrong, my grandparents were very strong in their faith, and Jack followed suit...in the tradition of mimicking as well as a basic understanding of Christianity.

Their parish priest knew Jack, and in keeping with my grandmother's wishes, always reminded Jack of the ten commandments, specifically Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother.
The priest would ask Jack, if he was good to his mother at the close of each visit to the confessional.

On the weekends that Jack would spend with me and my family, I would take him to confession with me. I would make sure I went in before Jack so I could explain the situation to the priest. I mean I didn't want the priest to take anything Jack said the wrong way....and of course we never knew what the heck Jack said when he went to confession...so a heads up to the priest was in order.

This one particular Saturday, I go into the confessional, and before leaving give the priest the lowdown on Jack. I open the curtain to come out, and a strange man enters the confessional....Jack is no where in sight! I quickly went looking for Jack and found him exiting the restroom. I told him the priest was feeling ill, and said Jack could just say The Act of Contrition on his own, that was fine. We high tailed out of there.

Seriously? Did I want to be there when that man came out of the confessional? I'm wondering what the man thought about the priest asking him if he was good to his mother.