of anything that comes close to resembling what we now call autism. Now why do you suppose that is?”
“I am sure you’re going to tell me.”
“That’s the problem. I only have a theory. I can’t prove my suspicions. I need help and believe that your background could be a huge plus, help speed up the informational process. You could help get the attention of some people in a position to help. We need to determine the cause, stop all this before this gets any worse.”
“What does the government have to do with it?”
“It’s complicated. Come aboard and I’ll tell you.”
Crockett knew his skepticism was showing. A silence fell as they stared at each other across the table.
Trent quickly broke the impasse, ticking his voice up a notch. “Look, I can’t help you with your grandson, but I can help you understand his autism. With a little luck, I may even be able to prove why he became autistic. Most people don’t give a damn about autism unless it affects them directly. Obviously, you have reason to care. I just thought we might have a fit. Together, we could make a difference. Somebody has to do it.”
“What makes you so interested in autism?”
Trent’s voice was unemotional, matter-of-fact. “Autism is misunderstood. Most people still think of it as a mental problem. Up until the early sixties that’s exactly how it was diagnosed. It’s really a physical malfunction of the brain that causes autism, and something is causing it. There are specialists who study and treat those afflicted and they do a damn fine job of it, but that’s all they do. They don’t ask why their patients have autism. They just accept and try to manage it.”
Testing, Crockett persisted. “And you say you know what’s causing it?”
Trent didn’t take the bait. “I said I have a theory as to what is causing the increases. It may not be applicable to every case, but I believe it is a major contributor. I already know you did enough homework to know that the incidence of autism has grown significantly in the last few years. Unless we do something, there’s a good chance we’re only looking at the tip of the iceberg. This could be epidemic.”
“You think it is going to get worse?”
“You can count on it.”
Crockett’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Why do you believe that?”
Leaning back in his chair, Trent paused before responding. Crockett was convinced he was stalling, not prepared to reveal everything, at least not yet. “I fear that something that happened long ago is likely to be rearing its ugly head, contributing to the cause.”
Finding out what long ago meant was important for Crockett, but a sudden flash of personal brilliance temporarily put his curiosity on the back burner. He remembered the report about the increases in autism given to him by the Chief of Staff at the U.S. Department of Education in April. He jumped out of his chair and walked over to the refrigerator where he had a note stuck under a magnet on the door and read it again. Trent was right. The numbers didn’t lie. There had to be a reason.
Crockett handed the note to Trent. “I made this note to myself when I got back from Washington. If the numbers are right, the incidence of autism in the last thirty years in the U.S. has increased by a hundred and forty percent while the general population only went up less than forty percent. Is this what you’re talking about?”
“Exactly!”
Crockett sat down, sighing heavily. “I must admit, you’ve piqued my interest. What exactly do you think happened that everyone else seems to have missed?”
“I’m afraid that might be a bit of a thin place.”
“What do you mean?”
“About… ?”
“You mentioned a thin place”.
“In science or in general?”
Crockett’s confusion escalated. “Right now I don’t know what the hell to think.”
“Do you believe in God?”
“What the hell does that have to do with my question?”
“Possibly everything, if you want to understand the concept.”
“How’s that?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“About my belief in God?”
“Yes.”
“Does it really make a difference?”
Trent nodded. “If you believe, then I may be able to explain what I mean.”
“O.K., I think I believe.”
“You think?”
Crockett was sparring with a very capable opponent and he knew it. “I don’t really know. That’s why I said I think.”
“It is because you can’t believe what you can’t see?”
“Possibly.”
Trent smiled. “Good! Now, I can explain.”
Crockett still felt confused, took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m all ears!”
Trent stood, walked to the window and looked out, turning his back to Crockett. Without looking back, he began to explain. “No matter what our faith or beliefs about something that we have never seen, it’s only natural that we harbor questions about what we’ve been taught or read. Without being able to touch something, so we can dissect it and form our own first-hand conclusions, we can only rely on what others have experienced before us. If put to the test, there are many things we believe in that we can’t really prove because we haven’t experienced them first hand.”
“Like not having ever seen or heard God?”
Trent turned back to face Crockett. “Exactly.”
“So what’s a thin place?”
“In the spiritual sense, it would be the space between your own beliefs and actually seeing proof that God exits. In science, it is different.”
Crockett pushed his chair back from the table, stood up, and leaned against the kitchen counter. Trent still had his back to him. “I understand the spiritual side of it. We have to die to be sure our convictions are right, but what is it in science?”
Trent turned back from the window. “It’s where we suddenly discover proof of our theories. What we think is possible or impossible is finally given credence through hard evidence. A hypothesis is validated or has a hint of validation for the first time because a missing piece or pieces of the puzzle suddenly fall into place. What we thought but couldn’t prove suddenly becomes provable. By melting fact and theory together, we get close enough that suddenly our theories begin to take a physical shape, a plausible hypothesis, something we have not seen before becomes clearly evident. It’s like a cloud lifting, shedding light so we can see.”
Crockett
