Date: Mon, 12 Nov 2012 02:31:13 -0800 From: califox08@hotmail.com Subject: Trust Me Part 3 All the usual disclaimers apply. If your local laws prohibit you from reading this then please leave now.This is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidence. Please send all feedback to the email address below. I love reading ALL feedback (Good or bad) and WILL respond to all messages. Thanks again =). Also, please donate to Nifty! CaliFox08@hotmail.com Trust Me Part 3 We sat on the couch for quite some time as he began crying into my chest. He swung his legs up and over my knees and rested them on my thighs. He wasn't sitting on my lap per se, but he was definitely on the verge. I had no idea how long he had been out on his own, but something told me it had been a very long time since he felt safe or even loved for that matter. I put my hand on the back of his head and held him close, ready to remain that way for the remainder of the night if he needed. Although this moment was far from joyous, I think in a weird sense he was somewhat relieved. He could finally let his guard down and begin to trust somebody. I now knew his name, but it was clear to me that I knew nothing about him. His past actions, expressions, and overall demeanor were completely driven by fear and anger. This person, the one now crying on my chest, was the real Cody... After around 20 minutes he finally began to calm down. He was absolutely silent except for the occasional sniff from crying so hard. I put my hand on his knee and rubbed up and down his bare leg, just trying to offer a sign of reassurance. I've never felt this way before but I found myself completely overcome with the need to protect this kid. I sat there in silence, enjoying the feel of his flesh touching mine. There were a few times where our breaths were completely in sync. The notion seems ridiculous but in those brief seconds, it felt as though we were somehow connected or became "one." I finally decided to break the silence and offer up a plan. "Listen... I want to know everything there is to know about you but now isn't the time... The sun is about to rise and you need some sleep. How about I make us a late breakfast tomorrow and we'll talk then? Sound good?" "Yeah alright." Was the only thing he could get out in a low, scratchy voice. I picked him up off the couch and began to carry him up the stairs, legs draped over one arm and neck resting on the other. I think he was a bit surprised by that considering most boys his age would normally not be carried but then again, most boys his age don't go through the things he's been through. If anyone deserved or possibly even needed to be carried that night, it was him. I walked into the spare bedroom and gently laid him back in bed. "You'll be ok bud. You know where my room is if you need anything." I looked down into his glassy eyes and saw a very faint smile for just a moment. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Some people just have that ability to communicate all their emotions with a simple glance and that is exactly what this kid was doing now. I rubbed his shoulder as he stared off into space. As I was getting up to leave I heard him call out from behind me. "What's your name?" He asked. I turned around and was embarrassed I left out such a simple thing completely out of the conversation. I guess I was focused on more important matters at the time like where I was taking this kid and what I was going to do with him. I looked off to the side in embarrassment as I responded. "Wow, I can't believe I never said. I'm David. Sorry about that... This night isn't exactly normal so I guess it just left my mind." "That's alright... night David." "Goodnight Cody, and remember to get me if you need anything" With that he nodded his head and turned over in bed to face the wall. I flipped the lights off and retired once again to my room for hopefully the last time tonight. I thought of turning my alarm off so I wouldn't be awakened in the morning but I didn't even finish the thought before I dozed off. Morning felt like it arrived in the blink of an eye. I rolled over as my alarm was sounding and saw the time. It was noon. The fact that I slept through the alarm was amazing and showed just how tired I truly was. I still felt rather tired but knew there was no excuse for sleeping this late. I hopped in the shower and scrubbed myself at a brisk pace wondering if Cody was awaiting me, and food, in the kitchen below. After finishing my morning routine I walked into the hall and peeked inside Cody's room. He was still asleep. That's good I thought. He needs the rest and I wouldn't have liked the guilt of seeing him waiting in the kitchen hungry. I planned on making pancakes along with eggs and sausage this morning. Frozen waffles probably seemed like a God-send to him last night, but I knew it was nothing special. I'd treat him to a good meal this time around. I decided to put on some music in the living room as I began cooking breakfast/lunch. I know saying you love music is almost sort of lame in a sense... does anyone actually admit to hating music? But I really do love music. Even before I was well off, I invested in some speakers that were pretty immaculate if I do say so myself. Everyone has their hobby or interest they foolishly dump money into. For some, its cars, for others it's technology. For me, that passion was music and sound and my speaker system definitely showed my level of dedication and obsession. I loaded an album of Madeon in the player and turned on my favorite song "Finale". I've probably heard this song over 500 times in my life and I wasn't even close to tired of it. This is one of those songs that is so powerful it gives me goose bumps when I hear it. I've had people tell me that having such a reaction to something such as music or movies is strange. Well written dialogue or perhaps a fantastic buildup in a song can send chills down my spine. I turned down the bass a bit to make sure I didn't shake the kid out of bed upstairs and started cooking. Breakfast went a lot smoother than I expected really. I know pancakes aren't exactly gourmet but for what it's worth, I was proud of myself. I decided we would eat at the bar this morning. It seemed a lot more casual rather than sitting across a table from one another. It was nearly 12:45 when I was setting the plates and Cody still wasn't up. I made my trek up the stairs and entered his room. He was lying on top of the blankets, sprawled out on his stomach. I sat down beside him but he didn't even stir. I took my hand and slowly ran it down from his shoulders all the way down his spine and finally to his lower back. My fingertips stopped as they hit the waistband of his briefs. His ass seemed a bit over-accentuated for a boy. I don't know if I would use the term "bubble butt" but he seemed to have something to show...I began to hook my thumb under his waistband, thinking I would get a quick glance...I can't do this to him I thought. Not now. Not after he just started to trust me. So what if he'd never know, I'd never forgive myself. I'd never be able to look him in the eye. After I was done mentally scolding myself for several minutes I shook him lightly on the shoulder. "Cody.... Cody." I said softly. I shook him a few more times and he awoke with a flinch as though he suffered a night terror. He scanned the room briefly and took in his surroundings as though he forgot where he was. "I'm sorry, you're a heavy sleeper. I had to nudge you a bit" He looked up at me and smiled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Well I'll meet you downstairs. Don't take too long, breakfast is ready" I walked out of the room and wasn't even 3 steps down the stairs before he was following after me. I turned down the music as I entered the living room while Cody headed off to the laundry room to get a clean pair of shorts. Although I would have loved to admire the view over breakfast, I figured I saw enough last night anyways. He joined me at the bar a moment later. "Where's the silverware? He asked. I looked over and realized I only grabbed a set for myself but not for my guest. I guess that's what living alone for so long does to you. I got up and began to retrieve another set in the kitchen. "Sorry, not really used to company to be honest" "That's alright" he replied. I opened the drawer and thought of a funny idea. I returned back to my seat and handed the kid a plastic fork and knife with a smile on my face. "Just to be safe... you understand right?" I asked. The kid was dead silent and stared at me for a few seconds with the straightest face. I thought I might have offended him somehow until he finally let a grin spread from ear to ear and began laughing hysterically. I'm glad he found it amusing. Seemed like a good way to start the day. We had only eaten our first few bites when he threw me for a loop and decided to break the silence by asking me a question. "...Why did you help me?" He kept his eyes on the plate and pushed his food around as he asked the question. "I guess... because you needed it." I knew that wasn't going to satisfy his curiosity but I really didn't know what else to say as he caught me so off guard. "There are tons of homeless people; do you help everyone you see?" He put his plastic fork down and looked at me as though the conversation suddenly got serious. "Most homeless people aren't 15" I argued. "14..." he said in a low voice. "There you go all the more reason then." I pointed out. I decided to turn the tables on this interrogation and see if I could get him to start talking about himself. I knew this wasn't exactly going to be easy but if I were to help him in any way, or even keep him here for a bit longer, then I really needed to know his story. "Why did you run away Cody?" He still had around half his meal left on his plate, but I think all these questions were making him uneasy. He bit his lower lip and looked like he was contemplating what to say or where to even begin. "Were you abused?" "LOOK! I just met you. You think you can feed me a few meals and I'm just going to spill my guts to you?" He looked directly at me and waited for a response. "Trust is a two way street. I trust you and even if you don't fully trust me, what's the worst that could possibly happen if you told me a little about yourself?" He broke the stare and went back to pushing his food around on his plate. After a long pause he finally spoke again. "You shouldn't trust me... You just met me. There are a lot of bad people." He muttered that last sentence as his voice was beginning to shake. His eyes got glassy again and looked as though he might begin to tear up. I reached over and took his hand in mine. I forced him to drop his plastic fork and replaced it with my metal knife. I laid my hand flat on the counter directly below the blade... I knew he'd never stab me. It was more symbolism than anything. "I'll decide who to trust thank you and I know there are a lot of bad people but I think I'll take my chances with you... Can't you give me the same chance? I promise I won't disappoint you." His lips were slightly parted as he looked up at me. His expression almost looked confused, like he was wondering why I'd even bother to put forth so much effort. I don't know what caused these trust issues with him, but I was anxious to find out. In his daze he slowly lowered his hand with the knife and slightly pricked my skin. "Ahh watch it." I remarked. He looked down and saw a single bead of blood where he ever so slightly broke the skin. "I'm sorry" is all he said, knowing the wound was nothing serious. He put the knife back down on my plate and folded his hands in his lap. He stared out in front of him over the bar and into the kitchen as he began to finally give some details on his life. "Well... my parents died several years ago. I was 10 at the time. They were driving home from a party and they crashed their car. I honestly don't know all the details... I just trust what my brother says." "You have a brother?" I interjected. "Yea, he's 10 years older than me so he's 24. He became my guardian when my parents died." "Well that's good" I said. "I was beginning to think you may not have any family." "I'm not finished." He shot back and glared at me. "Sorry..." I made a mental note to keep my mouth shut till he finished his story in its entirety. "Anyway... we had to move out of our old house. We had a really nice place in Nevada, but my brother never finished college so there was no way we could continue to pay the rent. We wound up living in this 2 bedroom hole in some ratty apartment complex. I was really young at the time but even then I remember hating it. The dim lighting, the brown, worn carpet, the white splotches on the wall where people punched holes in the wall... It was about as uninviting as you can get. My brother had a really hard time keeping a job. He was only 20 at the time so there really wasn't much he could do. I think the stress got to him. I didn't know that back then, but when I look back on things it's obvious. I remember one night my brother woke me up and asked me if I was happy where we lived. When I said no he immediately began packing. It was 11:00 at night but I was so young I didn't even question my brother's actions. I understand now that we were being evicted. We bounced around from motel to motel for years and I doubt we ever stayed in a single place for more than a month. I remember motel managers always coming to our room and my brother promising to pay. I don't know if he ever did but I doubt it. When I was 13, I remember walking into our current motel room at the time. I was staying at my friend's because I hated being "home" so much. When I walked in the front door my brother was hunched over this nightstand by one of our beds. He turned around and looked surprised to see me. He then opened the nightstand's drawer and casually swept everything inside. When we went to sleep that night I crept by his bedside and tried to find what he was hiding. He moved whatever it was but as I ran my finger along the lining of the drawer I could feel something sandy and rough. I walked over and looked at my fingertips in the light by the window and they were white... That was the first time I realized my brother was doing drugs. Some months went by and after I had caught him a few more times he was starting to not even care if I saw him do it... I asked him about it several times but he always got mad at me when I did that. I remember one night when he was getting very loud and angry, just screaming how life isn't fair and how we were going to have to find a new motel soon. He was screaming this in my face the entire time so I was crying. I begged him to stop but he wouldn't listen... I walked up to him... and..." His voice was now shaking and his lower lip began to quiver. I reached between his legs and fished out one of his folded hands for me to hold. "It's ok, take your time" I said while rubbing his hand in mine. "And he hit me really hard in the face... He gave me a black eye. When my friends or teachers asked me about it I just said I got in a fight with some kids in the park. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave my brother and I knew if I told anybody anything they would take me away from him and he would go to jail... I really wish I did tell... One night, when I got home from a friend's, my brother wasn't there. He sometimes said he had to work late at whatever job he currently had or sometimes would go visit a friend. I just thought he was doing drugs and wanted to be out of the room. It was getting really late. I probably called him 10 times on his cell phone but he never answered. I thought he probably ran out of minutes because that did happen sometimes. I remember waking up to the red and blue flashing lights coming through our window. It wasn't that big of a deal because bad things did happen in some of the motels we stayed at. I figured they were there for somebody else. I started to fall asleep again but then they started pounding on the door. They were calling my name and asked me to let them in. When I opened the door one of the policemen picked me up and put me in the backseat of his car. They didn't even let me get any real clothes on. I just sat there in my PJs until one of them finally started driving us somewhere. I was really worried. I asked the cop what was happening but all he would say is that my brother was in trouble. When we got to the police station the cop put me in one of those rooms with nothing but a table and 2 chairs. Like the kind you see in the movies where they ask people questions. I could hear somebody screaming and crying really loud outside the door. It was so bad it actually scared me when a man opened the door to come into the room. He explained that he was my brother's lawyer provided by the state and said that I was going to have to live with somebody else for a while. Every time I asked him why he wouldn't even look me in the eye and said he wasn't at liberty to tell me. When he left the room a woman officer came in and said I would need to stay with her for the night because they wouldn't be able to find a foster family on such short notice. She said I'd probably have a permanent home by tomorrow. As we she was driving us to her home I remember crying and being so angry with her and everyone around me for not telling me what was happening with my own brother. I screamed at her. SCREAMED THAT I DESERVED TO KNOW... She pulled over the car. She held my hands as she told me." He closed his eyes as hard as he could as though trying to push the memory out of his mind. "She said... she said that he went to a place called The Sands. The owner was always nice and let us stay in a room when we had nowhere else to go. He probably felt guilty thinking he was making a kid sleep in a car for the night. He always let us stay in the same room for some reason. Room 11... She said when he got there he was really confused and high. He must have thought that was where we were staying for the night. He broke into that room and..." He took a short pause to attempt to regain some control. He was all out crying now. Tears were streaming down his face but he kept his eyes open. He was beginning to wail so hard he began to stumble over every other word he spoke. "What did he do Cody?" I asked while rubbing his back. "He killed a kid!" He screamed. "He thought the family in the room had broken in and were stealing our things... He picked up a lamp and beat a 12yr old kid to death." He leaned over and clutched the skin around my shoulders so hard that it hurt. I put my hand on the back of his head as he borderline yelled out the remainder of his tears. "I should have told somebody" he said in an incoherent voice while balling into my chest. "I should have told on him. I should have tried to..." "STOP" I said slightly louder then I meant to. "This is not your fault Cody. You hear me?" He didn't respond. I don't think he could have even if he wanted to. I only heard the occasional "squeak" or high pitched noise kids let out when sobbing. "Look... I know it's easy to think you could have done something different and changed the outcome of something... but you can't do that to yourself. You can trick yourself into thinking you're responsible for almost anything if you do that. You were a kid who loved your brother and didn't want to get separated from him. You were just a kid. You're still a kid. You did nothing wrong... You did nothing wrong." He began to calm down but still held onto me very tightly. I just rubbed his bare back with my hand and let him get it all out. I expected a sob story but I didn't even dream of anything of this magnitude. I almost felt helpless in attempting to comfort him. Where do you even begin in attempting to help heal somebody when their life and past is this broken? This was a wound so deep that only time could rectify it.