I spent two hours in company with WM kid.
Well, where did I get him from? Meh, he lives right downstairs. His mom ignored all U/S and those diagnostics back in the days of her pregnancy, so nobody warned her about future weak-mindedness of her child. I had little knowledge about him until recently, except he uses to pound the radiator all nights long with something rather heavy. This phenomenon is caused by his day-rhythm been "broken" by his mother in order to make him stay awake at night and sleep at day. While he sleeps she can work, she can go shopping (she's a housecleaner and works several hours a day), and she can go get the free milk and kefir, which are being granted to him by our generous country as a social package. When first hearing about his hammering the radiators through the night some people wonder why nobody of our neighbors complained or at least shot him. It's easy: occupants of our building are mostly indifferent jerks who don't give a fuck. And me personally have a tacit agreement with his mom: I'm not opposing his night cares and she, in return, does not object if I come to an idea to dance some step in ski boots at, say, 12 PM. 

Well, sometimes he is awake at daytime for whatever reasons, and then his mom starts to look for somebody to look out for him. My mother stayed with him a couple of times. I found out from her words that he is totally inadequate, and she actually was afraid of him, though he is just 6: he just doesn't allow to cut his nails, therefore he has got enormously long black hooks on his hands and legs, he brings it into play from time to time. Notably, he does so not only because of a bad mood. Sometimes it happens just because of abundance of the heart: "Look, what a nice Cheburashka! Cute?" - "Tehe-e-e!" And there are four bloody trenches on the hand that holds the toy.

Me surely was not considered by his mom as a choice of tender, but once she happened to have a deal with my mother who was suddenly forced to go elsewhere, and I decided to watch for kid as if it was kinda gag.

He was, by the way, rather well accommodated. He's got his personal room with a bed and a mounted at the unreachable altitude TV. There are also a clothes chest and a chair. All wallpapers in the room are cut up to the level of his height+his upraised hand. I was asked to keep him from the other areas of the apartment, since the kid's got a habit to wreck everything he finds unusual. Consequently, all things apart from bed, chest, chair and TV are being found unusual.
At first he was a bit afraid of me, covering his eyes with a palm of his hand (kinda hiding), my attempts to come close to him reacted with agonizing chirps. But about 15 minutes later he got accustomed and even attempted to try his nails on me. I intercepted the strike and squeezed his hand hard while looking straight into his eyes. I don't know whether he made any long-term conclusions, but at least for the next half an hour he made no moves of this sort.

All in all, his behavior has very little in common with Dustin Hoffman's "Rain Man" who, despite his autism, used to be communicative and even had phenomenal memorizing abilities. When being to hospital I have seen some dudes sick with autism, but their sickness was probably benign. One could have a conversation with them J In general, many of the deranged people do look like normal at a first glance. I recall one interesting man who could fluently say the names of all players who scored a goal, and how many minutes into the match it was, in ANY game of the "Spartak" soccer team ever since the very beginning of the club's history. And he remembered all the scores either...

Well, our kid's set of preferences turned out to be rather kinky: he watches only ads on TV. Any cartoons, and movies all the more, avoid his perception big time. (Hence I have a question creeping in my mind - what do they put into advertisement videos that attracts even the weak-minded.) And his favorite business was to knock on his head with a 1,5L plastic bottle of cola.
He can do it till the end of time. The only reason for him to interrupt this process could be the need to satisfy the spontaneous wish for climbing up atop the clothes-chest and falling flat-wise down onto the bed.

He did so 5 or 6 times during my staying with him. Our day passed relatively easy due to the fact he is allowed to do everything within his room. He was whacking himself with a bottle and he was happy. The only red alert happened at the moment he managed to escape from his room, and I needed to settle him back. After penetrating outer territories he hurricaned the apartment, hammering everything on his way with his bottle. He ran into the kitchen and climbed the table, sweeping down lots of those crappy cooking things like graters-strainers (nothing breakable, luckily). I didn't expect such an agility of him. The climax of this seizure of the kid was his infamous clawed hand whizzing by centimeters off my face. And I surely haven't ever seen a hysterics of such an extent. This was a style of a wild animal hunted down and cornered, ready to sell its life dearly. As a result I was forced to carry him back upside down, holding his legs. But he still tried to twist and scratch even in this position. Upon arrival to his place he, as if noting had happened, rushed to climb the chest to fling down.