Trust

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Trust Page 4

by A M Raulerson


  We parked in a paved loop in front of the house, and as I follow him I just can’t imagine living here. I’m too scared to touch anything. If I break something I have no idea what he’ll do to punish me. My fear is back, screaming at me to run. I really want to, but where will I go? Back to the streets? I made the decision to go with David, picking him over the pimps. There is nowhere to run anymore. He seems to be the lesser evil. I’ll just have to wait and see.

  As David reaches the front door, he turns the knob and walks in. I can’t believe it! It’s unlocked! Why on earth would he leave a house like this unlocked? Is he crazy? As I pass through the door, I can see so many things that would sell really well on the street. I’ve never sunk that low. Stealing just isn’t something I can do. But if I were like others, who live on the streets, I’d have a huge payday from just one room in this house. I don't understand why he doesn’t lock the door.

  As I stand in the foyer of this beautiful house, I’m so stunned I don’t hear the giant black man in a suit sneak up on me. When he speaks to David I swing around, my heart pounding so hard when I see him, I think I'll have a heart attack. He’s the scariest man I’ve ever seen. To say he’s frightening is an understatement. He’s six foot seven at least. A giant slab of muscle, dark skin, and a scar running down his face. The scar runs from just above his left eyebrow, down his cheek, and through his lip, all the way down over his chin. It looks so bad I don’t know how he managed to keep his left eye. The scar makes his lips look like a continuous snarl. He scares me to death and he has such light brown eyes they almost look yellow and glowing. When he speaks to David, I’m confused again.

  “David. Good Afternoon.” His voice is so low, smooth, and almost musical it stuns me. As he turns toward me, he smiles as much as his scar will let him.

  “Now, who is this?” “Simon, this is Justin. He’ll be staying with us. Is his room ready?” David gives Simon a look that I can’t decipher. Simon nods his head at me.

  “It's nice to meet you, Justin. Welcome.” Turning his head to face David, he nods that the room is ready. I don’t know what to do. I’m out of place here, so filthy and grimy that I don’t want to touch anything. I have no idea what’s going on, but I just don’t care anymore. All the shock and fear from this day just shuts me down. I can’t face anything else today.

  They continue to speak softly, but I don’t pay attention. I’m so confused and scared I revert to my childhood training. Silent and unfeeling, the only way I can cope. Nothing or no one can hurt me if I don’t let them in. Self preservation, my mask and silence are my only weapons. I can’t fight these men. I’m five foot seven. The starvation of the streets has stripped away everything it could. I probably don’t weigh more than one hundred and thirty pounds of stringy hair and muscles. So weak it won’t take much effort to subdue me, if that's what they’re going to do.

  They’re relaxed with non -threatening body language and soft voices. It’s as if they’re afraid I’ll run. I can’t trust people with soft voices, they tended to hit harder later. Monsters can hide behind nice clothes and soft smiles. I just didn’t understand anything anymore. The fear and the desire to run keeps pouring through my body. ‘Get out of here. Run you stupid bastard. He’s going to kill you and make a costume from your skin. The big guy is going to hold you down and help him. Fucking run.’ My mind is screaming at me, but I just stand here. I just can’t move.

  “Justin?” I realize David has called my name a few times. His arm is stretching towards me, but he doesn’t touch me, and there’s concern on his face. I’ve just been standing there looking at the floor, a beautiful honey colored hardwood. As I look at him, he slowly puts his hand on my neck. Immediately, I start to calm down. I don’t know why, but the solid contact and the gentle, but firm pressure grounds me, bringing me back to the present, and giving me… comfort, I guess. I can’t understand it, but I want that hand on my neck to stay there. Once I calm down a bit, he gives me another firm squeeze and lets go. I almost start crying again, desperately wanting his hand back. David sees it in my eyes and puts it back, firmly grounding me in the present. I almost cry again, the relief is so great I just stand there, eyes closed. I feel truly safe for the first time ever.

  The voices in my head that were telling me to run have quieted too. I’m still scared, that hasn’t gone away, but the terrified voice talking about making skin suits has gone. I have no idea if I'm going to die. I don’t really care if he wants to beat the hell out of me and kill me, I’ve been through bad situations before. I may even survive this. All I know in this moment is that I’m safe. Call me crazy, but just that firm grip, the pressure on my neck, makes me feel safe in the moment. I just need to take this moment by moment. If he plans to kill me, it’ll be later. I need to think about what he promised me. A shower, food, and a bed to sleep in. I can’t lower my guard as much as I did in the car, but maybe I could lower it just a little. David had held me safe as I cried. He hadn’t made fun of me or pushed me away or hit me. He held me, rubbed my back, and promised me safety. I want so badly to believe this is real. That he really does want to help me. God help me!

  ************* David I can see Justin barely holding on. He needs a moment to himself. A shower would give him that. I nod to Simon that I’d talk to him later. He got the point and turned away after giving Justin another ruined smile. Simon had been in the accident that had killed my parents and had a permanent reminder of that awful day. But I didn't want to think of that right now.

  I turn Justin towards the staircase, guiding him with my hand, gentle but firm on his neck. It seems to calm him. He looked like he was holding on by a thread. As we walk down the second floor hallway I try to think how I can comfort him. I don’t know what he’ll do, how he’ll react to my dominance. I don’t want to scare him anymore than I already have. He seems to react positively to my hand on his neck, but I have to remember to make sure he can see me before I touch him. He seems to be reacting positively to my touch, so I have to be careful not to push him. We’d made a small step forward, and I hope for many more. I’m going to see backward steps as well. I have to be patient, go at Justin's speed. And the first step towards trust is to give him what I promised him. The third door to the right is the room I asked Simon to prepare for Justin. I hadn’t known if Justin would come with me, but I wanted to be prepared in case he did.

  Opening the door, I gently pull Justin in, watching his reaction. His eyes are huge and I can feel the fear radiating off him again. Is he thinking this is my room, and maybe I lied to him? I’m guessing here.

  The room is big, with a large bed and a little sitting area to the right. The two doors off to the left are the bathroom and a walk-in closet. A desk with computer stand off to the left, past the bathroom. And there are lots of floor to ceiling windows to let in natural light. I don’t know whether or not he likes horses, but the paddock and stables are visible through the windows. If he doesn’t like the room there are more to choose from. But that’s a topic for another day.

  “Justin this is your room for as long as you want to stay with us. My room is two doors down on the other side of the hall and Charlie’s door is the next one past mine. There's a bathroom behind the door over there. It's attached to this suite and you can only get to it through that door there. I promised you a room to yourself, with a lock on the door. I hope you like this one.” I turn him around to see the deadbolt I asked Simon to install. Making Justin feel safe is our top priority. I let go of Justin's neck, giving him some space and allowing him to slowly walk around.

  I go to the walk-in closet next to the bathroom and just as I asked, Simon has purchased jeans and sweatpants, soft t-shirts, boxer briefs and socks, anything Justin might need. I had to guess what sizes would be right. Simon picked out things that would most likely fit. It isn’t real hard to see how small Justin is. He also bought a variety of sizes for when Justin starts to gain some weight from proper meals, and lots of them. Shoes were a little harder. But now that he’s here
we can order anything else he wants, or needs, online. Slippers will just have to work until then. One thing Simon really loves is shopping online. He can find anything. It's almost funny, but the man came through so I have nothing to complain about.

  “Here’s some new clothing that Simon picked out for you. Didn’t know if you wore boxers or briefs, so he got you boxer briefs.” Hoping he thought that was funny I turn around holding a stack of clothes, Justin is staring at me from in front of one of the windows. He isn't laughing, but has an incredulous look on his face.

  “We can get you anything you need. Right now, why don’t you take that shower I promised you. Just leave your dirty clothes in a pile outside the bedroom door, Simon will either clean them or throw them away. Depending on what you want done with them.” I slowly walk closer to him, trying not to freak him out, but that look stays on his face, like he still didn’t get me and didn’t know why I was doing this. When I’m close enough to hand him the clothing I’ve picked up from the pile, he looks at them and doesn’t say anything, not that I expected him to. I turn away once he’s taken them and walk towards the door, wondering how long it’ll take before he speaks.

  “Simon and I will be down stairs getting dinner ready. Well, we’ll try cooking dinner until Charlie comes home and runs us out of “his” kitchen.” Smiling again, I look over my shoulder, I finally get a small huff of a laugh from him. It isn’t much, but I’ll take it.

  “Come on down after your shower if you want. Or you can sleep, it's up to you. You’ve had a hard time of it so don’t worry about anything. Sleep or come down, no problem whatever you choose. Ok?” Justin nods slowly, looking down at the clothes. I can see the tears in his eyes. He’s fighting them, but I can see the sheen of them from across the room. There’s no telling how long it’s been since someone’s just been nice to him. He still doesn’t trust me, and probably won’t for a while, but just giving him attention, food, and now clothing without seeming like I want anything from him is flooring him.

  “Justin,” I wait until he looks up, “You’re safe here. Lock the door behind me. If you don’t want to be disturbed, put your clothes outside the door and Simon will take care of them.”

  I watch Justin for a minute. When I get just a tiny nod of his head I leave. No sooner have I closed the door when I hear Justin turning the deadbolt. I wasn’t really sure the boy had been paying attention. He probably bolted for the door as soon as I closed it behind me. As I stand outside the door, quietly waiting, I hear it. More of those soundless sobs. Just breaths rushing through his lungs, hard and painful.

  I go down stairs in search of Simon. I don’t have to look anywhere but the kitchen. It’s our meeting place. Simon, Charlie, and I always head to the kitchen to talk or just think things through. So I knew Simon would be there. I hear Simon talking before I even enter the kitchen. It isn’t an uncommon thing to hear Simon talking to one of our animals or another. It’s just his way. This time I know it’s Molly. Not just because she’s currently the only dog we have, but I also know Charlie isn’t home yet. Simon really isn’t interested in talking to himself, unless he’s really pissed. I can hear his soft voice. It’s the one he used on me as a child. The voice he used on Justin. The same one he uses around all the animals. It’s magical. Even when he’s not trying, he can sound so calm and comforting.

  Coming around the corner, I’m not surprised to see Molly standing up next to Simon, love and trust in her eyes. Simon’s talking to her as if she knows exactly what he’s saying. I don’t know, maybe she does. He’s begun the prep for making spaghetti with meatballs. My kind of comfort food. It’s also the one dish Simon refuses to let Charlie cook. Not that he does a bad job or anything, it’s just one of those meals that has to be made “just so” in Simon’s opinion. Secretly, I always thought Simon made it better, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was telling Charlie that. Charlie, in a huff about his cooking, was funny as all get out to see, but we all paid eventually. He won’t cook bad food, but the food suffered for a meal or two.

  Stopping to watch Simon for a minute, I try to see Simon the way Justin did when he first met him. Simon is a scary looking man. Not a face you want to see coming at you down a dark alley. Deep and craggy already, that horrible scar on his face makes him seem even scarier. I’ve known Simon most of my life so he’s always been just Simon to me. He came to work for us when I was six. As a young man he looked like a linebacker stuffed in a suit. Never a bad suit, but just uncomfortable in it. After a short while, my father saw how uncomfortable he was and told him to just wear his suit when we had company and at parties. From then on he worked in a button down shirt and slacks, but the coat was always close at hand in case he had to answer the door.

  Simon has lived in the small cottage behind the house for as long as I can remember, always close if we need him. Butler, security guard, cook, and friend for most of my life. He’d play with me in the evenings as a child. In the beginning, we just played chase, my favorite game at six. I would run and he’d pretend to miss me before snatching me up high and tickling me. Then it was my turn to chase him. He would pretend to fall down so when “I caught him” he’d tumble over the grass with me. How he got the grass stains out of his clothes, I don’t know.

  As I grew older, he spent his off time throwing a baseball for me, from when I was in little league all the way through high school. He was always there for me. Sometimes, as I grew older, there were things I didn’t want to talk about with my parents. Simon was always there, and always made me feel better. It seems like he’s always been my best friend and my protector, I could tell him anything and he didn’t judge me, he’d just give his advice as needed, and sometimes he just listened. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d have lost him too.

  What most people didn’t understand about Simon was that behind the scary face and the more than six and a half feet of solid muscle, he is a truly gentle man. That doesn’t mean he’s weak by any means. He defends the people he loves viciously. His giant hands can turn to fists as fast as is needed. He just doesn't like violence, he knows it has to be used, but only when necessary. Simon has a soft heart. Love and compassion run through his veins. I saw the devastated look in Simon’s eyes when he saw Justin. I saw the immediate need to help him. Simon will be good for Justin. He’ll treat him gently, and speak softly to him. He’ll make him smile and he’ll try to reach him. And he would; I’d bet money on it. With a little work maybe he can get him to talk again.

  Simon can rehabilitate anyone or anything. There are two horses in the stables, my parents horses, and I wasn’t able to go to them at first. Then I signed on with the Navy after straightening myself out and I wasn’t here for six months at a time. It wasn’t really fair to the horses. I used the excuse that I didn’t have enough time to spend with them. But I couldn’t get rid of them. They reminded me of our time before the accident. One day, when I finally managed to get myself together enough to try to go and see them, I discovered Simon with the horses. He had a true gift with them. He didn’t ride so he’d lean on them, or play with them, he gentled them. He said he was too big to ride and didn’t want to put that much weight on them. He rough housed a little with them, giving them love and attention, and maybe an apple or two. The horses loved it! People say animals don’t grieve, but after the accident they realized Mom and Dad weren't coming back. How, I don’t know, but they knew.

  Dad’s dog, a hilariously ugly dog who had followed my Father everywhere he went, had mourned himself to death. When my Father didn’t come back he just stopped eating and drinking. It was like he knew Dad was gone. He just lay there watching the door waiting. He passed away eight days after we buried my parents.

  I worried about the horses. I didn’t wa nt the same thing to happen to them, but I couldn’t make myself go and see them. The stables had so many memories of fun and love. So I didn’t go, thought it would be too much. When I finally did, it was amazing. All the memories were still there, but the pain wasn’t as
bad as I thought it would be. As big as Simon is he’s still outweighed by those two beautiful animals. Seeing Simon with those horses, pushing them around, playing like ponies, racing around the corral, and getting pushed back himself; it was wonderful to see. When Simon realized I was there he smiled almost bashfully. He’d been spending time with them, helping them. I felt so guilty, I should have come sooner. He had stepped in, making sure they weren’t neglected.

  We had trainers come in to feed them and curry them, put them in the corral or the paddock. They came up to the house when I was home or asked Simon what we’d like done. But Simon had been the one giving the horses love. Something I finally felt I could actually give them again. Helping those horses had been the best therapy I could have gotten.

  Aaron taught me control and how to release the pain, but when I was with the horses, peace always settled in my bones. Looking after them or just time spent with them, eventually riding them again, it had been a hard journey for all of us, but Simon had helped so much.

  A while after I’d seen him in the corral he asked if he could bring in another horse. Animal Control didn’t have a place for it. The horse was being kept in a garage attached to their office until they found suitable housing for him. The thought of that poor horse in a garage, after everything the animal had been through, well, Simon just couldn’t stand it. I immediately said yes, of course. Now we have three more horses who’ve been injured, abused, neglected, or any combination of those things. When Animal Control gets a call about a horse, and ends up taking the animal, they call Simon first. I have no problem with that. This is Simon’s house too. He doesn’t have to ask my permission for anything. When I told him that, the smile on his face made me smile. Whatever makes my family happy, makes me happy.

 

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