My Beautiful Bad Boy

Louis was a lovely boy, but he was misunderstood. That burned away inside of him like a fire he thought would never go out. He was also a clever boy, but no one much noticed that. What people noticed about Louis was that he was bad. He gave you lip. He shouted and raved, he got into fights. So they called him bad, tried to forget about him and hoped that one day he would just go away.

Louis was the despair of his mum, Jenny, who only had one child and couldn't have any more. Complications at birth they said. Maybe that explained why Louis was the way he was, but Jenny always felt people blamed her. At times it seemed that since Louis had been born, her life had gone; it had been taken over by Louis. Looking after Louis, trying to understand Louis, wondering why Louis was such a handful; apologising for Louis, crying about Louis. Day after day, month after month, year succeeding year, Jenny devoted her life to Louis. It caused problems between her and Louis' dad; arguments, such bitter fights. In the end Len went away, by mutual agreement, to save the relationship. They were going to try again later, but it never happened.

"You'll be the death of me, said Jenny one day, after Louis had been particularly difficult, and after she had once more spent 15 minutes picking up all the things he had thrown around the room.

"What d'you mean? shrieked Louis. He looked frightened, he often took things literally. He felt his mum was the only one who understood him; he didn't want her to die. "You can't say that, you can't blame me, it's not fair! and off he went again, ranting and raving.

Jenny sighed, took a deep breath, like she'd been told to, and wrote off her evening. The priority now was to calm him down and hope to God she'd get him to bed before too long so she could at least have an hour to herself. The evening ended with the two of them curled up on the sofa, Louis with his head on his mum's shoulder, crying. It often ended that way. Louis didn't want to be naughty, it just seemed to happen. It was like it controlled him, took him over. Least of all did he want to upset his mum. He loved his mum, he needed his mum; but so often it was his mum he upset most. It became clear to Louis that he could never do anything right, he could never speak, never act, in the way things were in his heart and mind. It just all came out wrong.

As Louis got older, he became convinced he was mad. It didn't help that some of the boys from the estate told him so, as often as possible, so maybe they were right. Mental, they called him. Anyway, there must be something wrong, Louis thought to himself; because he wasn't like all the others, he didn't act like other children, at school or anywhere else. Not that he went anywhere much, he couldn't in the end; it just caused too much trouble. He couldn't even get the bus home without it being a source of agony for him, and often this was because there was bound to be someone who knew him, and they would more often than not tease him. It wasn't for a while that Louis realised the teasing was done because they wanted a reaction, they wanted to see him flare up, boil over, lash out. Then they could have a laugh, and call him mental.

Jenny had taken Louis to the doctor, in desperation for herself as much as for him. The doctor had told her that Louis probably had Attention Deficit Disorder and had sent her to a specialist to explain it. The specialist was very nice, a middle-aged man with calm eyes which put Jenny at ease.

"People misunderstand ADD, he said. "They think it's a fad, that it's made up.

"Isn't it? asked Jenny. "I've heard stories. They say it's just a label, a way to shut up difficult parents, to give the kids drugs and hope for the best.

"Oh, there's a lot of misdiagnosis, I have no doubt. People are lazy; they don't want to deal with the real problems. The truth is there's no quick fix. Drugs are available but I wouldn't recommend them. There's long term side effects.

He went on to explain that ADD was a real neurological problem, that it was comparatively rare, that it needed a multi-strand approach and a lot of patience and understanding. He explained that it was a kind of damage to certain areas of the brain, often occurring at birth. As such it would not go away; but could be managed. Very little could get through the thick fog of despair and hopelessness that Jenny felt. This was a life sentence; I'll never be free. She sat for a while just pulling at her fingers and staring at the floor.

"Look, he said gently, "I know it sounds bad, but it's best to be honest. Remember that it does get better with time. Age can do surprising things. I've known children grow up and leave the worst of their ADD behind. He paused for a while to let his words sink in. "I think the best thing is if I refer you to a support group I know of. Believe me, being with others who know the problems can be a real benefit. He gave Jenny the number. "Come back if you need to, he added. He paused for a moment, looking at her while she sat tense and silent. "If you can find something he's interested in, something he can be good at, that might help. It might give him a focus; help to boost his self-belief. Self-belief can be a very powerful thing.

Jenny sat in her flat for days, too depressed to go out. A life sentence, nothing can make it go away, just manage it. As for finding something Louis could be good at, well, that was just a joke. He never concentrated long enough to master anything. How cruel Nature was, to take away the ability to concentrate. What was left, she thought, if you had no attention span and acted on impulse all the time? The thoughts swirled around and around her head, hammering away at her, persistent and uncontrollable, while Louis continued to get into trouble at school and on the estate. Eventually, after a few weeks, she plucked up the courage to go to the support group. She sat there all evening and said nothing, just listened. It wasn't too bad though, and she went again. They had a parent and child evening when they hired school hall as well as a meeting room, and the children had activities, with local volunteers. They were saints, those people, Jenny came to think.

It was Andy at the children's club who first saw a talent in Louis. Jenny had persuaded him to go there because she knew he needed an outlet. He fought and resisted and swore and threatened.

"I don't want to go there, he shouted. "They'll laugh at me. I'll get into trouble and they won't let me back. He got so worked up that Jenny thought he might start banging his head on the wall, like he sometimes did when he just couldn't cope. "They'll call me a freak. Everyone thinks I'm a freak. He began to cry. Big, uncontrollable sobs that tore away at him, and tore away at Jenny's heart.

"My baby, she thought, "my bright, beautiful baby. I wish I could take it all away. She cradled him in her arms until the sobbing died away.

He went though. It took Jenny weeks to persuade him. She was glad she did, because then he met Andy. She sat in the parents' room as usual, and by now she had plucked up the courage to talk. She was nervous, and spent half her time listening out for the inevitable disturbances, ready to jump up and take Louis home, just like she often had to at school. It didn't happen though. After the meeting was over she talked to Andy, one of the volunteers who looked after the children.

"He's been good as gold, Miss Harper, he said. Jenny couldn't believe her ears. "He seems to quite like chess. Lucky, because that's a passion of mine. I've been teaching him. He smiled and Jenny felt like it was the sun coming out after years and years of gloom. It had been so long since someone had praised Louis, who stood there, alternating between embarrassment and excitement, a look of pleasure creeping across his face.

"Make sure you bring him back next time. I'll work out some simple chess problems to try him on. He waved goodbye to them both and Jenny smiled. He seemed genuinely interested in Louis.

Jenny went home, for the first time in years feeling that there was hope in her world. Louis talked about Andy and chess until bedtime, chattering away, more excited than she had seen him since he was little. A week later, she bought Louis a magnetic chess set; one of those computerised ones with different levels. She didn't have much, but Len had sent her some money and she spent some of it on that. She took Louis to the library and they got a couple of chess books out. He sat in his room for ages, longer than she'd ever known him able to, trying out the exercises, working out the problems.

It wasn't all plain sailing. Louis still had tantrums, there were still problems at school; still the phone calls came, but there were less of them. The bright spot was that he really wanted to go the children's club, and his friendship with Andy blossomed, as did his ability at chess. They spent ages playing chess, and Louis even began to manage to play with other children at the club, without it dissolving into arguments. He beat them all.

"I'd like to take Louis to a chess club I go to, said Andy one evening after the parent's group had finished. "I think he's easily good enough and he'll get something out of it.

"Oh can I, can I mum? Louis pleaded. Jenny frowned. She was afraid that it would all go wrong, that Louis would have an outburst and trash the place. Then it would all end, as everything before had ended.

"I'll look after him, make sure it's all alright said Andy, as if reading her thoughts. "I know about his ADD, and I think I can cope. To be honest, it doesn't seem to be a problem when he's playing, he gets really absorbed.

Jenny agreed and over the next few months Louis and Andy went regularly every week to the chess club. Jenny felt she was in heaven. She had an evening to herself, a respite, an island in the chaos that had become her life. Louis got better and better, and began to take on adults as well as the older children. What Jenny noticed was that the defeats didn't seem to set him back, if anything they spurred him on. He didn't go wild and scream and shout when he lost; he thought about it, he learned from his mistakes, he adapted and improved his game.

She mentioned this to the specialist next time she went. He thought for a moment and then said:

"I've read about something like this before, only it was a boy who got interested in mechanics and construction. He was able to build the most intricate structures and it was the one area of his life where he was able to concentrate. It's as though the brain has been able to find an opening, a route into being able to do some of the things it hasn't been able to do before. Maybe we've found the answer Miss Harper.

Jenny stared at him, an unexpected feeling of hope rising inside her.

"My advice is let him keep on going to the chess club, encourage and praise him, let nature do its work; and don't forget about yourself in all this. I think the support group is helping you too.

It was true, Jenny had been getting a lot out of going to the support group. She picked up hints from the other parents, shared experiences, and gradually her life didn't seem so bad. In the meantime, Louis went from strength to strength. He could still be the same old Louis, prone to outbursts and temper, especially at school. But even there they noticed he was beginning to calm down, beginning to concentrate more on his work, which in turn slowly began to improve. It was when playing chess though that the improvements really showed. When he played he could concentrate, he could sit still, and he could maintain this for increasingly longer periods.

A short time after the meeting with the specialist, Jenny went to the chess club to pick up Louis as usual. She was stopped in the foyer by a large bearded man, who shook her hand vigourously.

"Hello, Miss Harper, he introduced himself, "my name is Jonathan, I run the chess club. Jenny smiled warily, but he seemed pleased rather than cross, so she waited for him to go on, still half expecting trouble.

"We seem to have a bit of a star in young Louis, he went on. "I've been watching him, and talking to Andy, and we both agree that Louis has great potential in chess. He could go all the way, he could become a Chess Master, maybe more.

Jenny couldn't believe her ears. Her Louis, a master at something!

"It's the speed at which he thinks that's most impressive. In fact, we're so impressed that I'd like to enter him into the Area Championships. I'm getting together an under-15's team, and I'd really like your permission for Louis to join.

This time Jenny didn't hesitate. Her fears and doubts were beginning to evaporate. She agreed, and the next few weeks were a fever of excitement and anticipation. Louis could hardly contain himself and spent hours practising in his room and having extra lessons at the chess club. She hadn't seen him so happy since he was a toddler.

The day before the tournament, Jenny kept Louis off school. She didn't want him getting into any trouble and losing his good mood and motivation. On the day, Andy came to collect him early and she waved them both off, hoping against hope that it would come good, that he wouldn't get beaten too early, that Louis would be able to bring some good memories back. She wanted him to be there without her, without distraction, so she stayed at home. She'd arranged for Andy to phone when Louis go knocked out, so she could get over there quickly to be with him. The day wore on but the phone call never came. It meant that he was progressing through the rounds; her little boy was winning at something. Still the phone call never came and Jenny began to wonder if something had gone wrong. She knew the tournament was scheduled to finish by 8 o'clock, so she went over anyway and waited anxiously outside.

A few minutes after eight, Louis came bursting out of the front door and ran towards her, his face contorted and shouting at the top of his voice. Her heart sank, until she realised what he was saying.

"Mum, Mum! I won, I won! he screamed. "I'm the Junior Champion! He flung himself into Jenny's arms in a way he hadn't done for years. Andy came rushing up behind him.

"It's true, Miss Harper, he beamed. "We had a few sticky moments but Louis kept his nerve. His end game has improved so much recently, and I think that saw him through. He ruffled Louis's hair. "You have a little Champion here.

Louis talked away excitedly. "In the final, I played my queen side rook to e1 square in move 18 he said. "Then I played ef5 to open 'e' file against blacks queen at e7, and I took a knight,' he went on happily, oblivious to the fact that Jenny didn't understand a word of what he was saying. "We exchanged queens and with my extra piece I won the game in 41 moves. It was brilliant!

Andy seemed just as excited as Louis. "The next step is to enter more tournaments and get some more wins under his belt, get his rating up. Then eventually we can go for Chess Master. If we get it, who knows? I have high hopes for this boy.

That evening Jenny sat in her flat feeling happier than she'd ever felt. She and Louis curled up on the sofa together like they used to when he was younger. He babbled away about chess until he fell asleep with his head on her shoulder. She looked down at him.

"I'm so glad you won something, she whispered. "You're my beautiful boy. Whatever happens, you'll always be my beautiful boy.