Trust

by A M Raulerson

  He’s really good with all animals, especially horses. We’ll probably end up keeping all the horses once they’re healthy enough to adopt. I can’t see us losing any one of them, and I know it’ll upset Simon to see them leave. Swayback and gimpy, scared of just about everything, it doesn’t matter, once they’re here, there’s no way we won’t want to keep them.

  Our house is constantly fostering some kind of animal. Simon just can’t say no, and I don’t mind having animals who need a little help. Now we have a momma dog that came to us pregnant and severely malnourished. Molly is a Great Dane, she was kept in a small kennel cage and constantly used as a puppy mill. The Vet can’t tell how many litters she’s had, but it’s obvious it was a lot. They had only fed her the bare minimum to keep her fit enough to breed. She was starved for both food and affection. She’s expecting a litter of six this time. The Vet we use said she’ll probably have no problem delivering this litter. He said she’s probably a pro by now, but as soon as the puppies are born, and weaned, it’ll be in her best interest to have her fixed. We already knew that. Animal Control has a strict policy with their Spay and Neuter program. But even if they didn’t, the way Molly has been treated and used, we would have chosen that anyway.

  Now that Molly’s reaching the end of her pregnancy and has gained thirty five pounds, she and the puppies are going to need a lot of space. Most of the other foster families, Animal Control asked for help, just couldn’t take on a dog of her size, especially with six puppies coming. Animal Control tries not to burden us with too many animals, knowing that Simon will say yes to them all. And even though we have more than enough space for the larger animals, they try to call us only when necessary.

  Molly’s looking so much better after only being with us for a few weeks. She’s getting closer to her due date, and now we’re just trying to make her comfortable. It seems she’s already chosen her spot to have the puppies. The mud room off the kitchen has a closet that’s rarely used for anything and she started tearing up newspapers and pulling down comfortable sweaters and shirts off the rack. I make it a point not to leave anything soft lying around that I didn’t want to lose. It’s sure to be un-savable after she’s finished with it. We’re just waiting for the puppies now. The Vet says they could come at anytime.

  I’m watching Simon chop up veggies for dinner, slipping Molly little bits of cheese and ham he’s pulled out of the fridge for her. I can see the love and trust in her eyes for him, after the terrified and trembling mess of fur and bones she’d been. I can’t wait to see that in Justin. Simon will work his magic on him too. Pushing myself away from the doorway, I clear my throat, Simon looks up and frowns a little. Looking back at Molly for a moment, he smiles at her and gives her another little bit of ham.

  “What has that boy been through? He’s absolutely terrified!” He says in his deep, rumbling voice. Reaching down to pet Molly so she won’t worry about the change in his voice.

  “I only know what Charlie told us. He doesn’t speak. It's more like he moves his mouth and sometimes breaths the words. I mostly have to read his lips. I know his name is Justin, and he says he’s eighteen, but that’s about all I could get out of him.”

  I recall the story of him calling me Mr. Miyagi. How, all of a sudden, he just collapsed crying, and I could only hold him and plot the death of whoever had hurt him. Simon listened quietly, not making any comments until I’d finished. He took a deep breath and straightened up, chopping up more veggies.

  The look on his face says it all. Simon always has a need to fix things, and of course, he has a way of helping both people and animals. A gift in getting through their defenses, he can get anyone or anything to trust him and eventually get them to open up. He also has a way of giving love and showing his concern to anything broken and in pain. He saw the pain behind the mask Justin was wearing. Simon is the one I always turned to and I hope Justin will too. Simon will make it his mission, I can tell just from the way he’s standing, he might be cooking, but his mind is really on thinking of a way to help Justin. He’s definitely in protective mode.

  Reaching down to pet Molly, I sit at my usual bar stool and realize we need another one. We all have our usual spot at the counter, and if Justin wants to stay he’ll need his own stool. We were close enough to help in the kitchen if needed, but mostly we sat and talked. The evenings always ended with us sitting around, drinking coffee and discussing whatever problem was currently bothering us. Justin will definitely be a topic we’ll be discussing. Now that Simon and I have seen him I know we all need to help Justin, he needs us. After Charlie repeatedly mentioned him, I’d been a little hesitant. I wanted to see him before Simon did. Simon would try to help anyone, but I needed to make sure he would be a good match for our little family.

  “He has a story to tell.” Simon said softly. “He has more pain than just being homeless. There’s deep scars in this one.” “What do you mean? He was able to stay away from the pimps. We don’t have to worry about that, or drugs and alcohol. What else is it you see?”

  I’m afraid of the terrors Justin’s been through. I know Simon’s right, but I need to know what he thinks. Simon’s always able to see what specific pain is dragging someone, or something down. Whether human or animal, it doesn't matter. He seems to almost have a sixth sense or something. I trust his opinion in everything, and he’s always the one I come to. He always has a way of calming me down, or knowing how to help. After the accident he became a father figure instead of the big brother he always seemed to be. He supported me in everything, always there with love and understanding.

  “No, this boy has more pain than I’ve seen. There’s something deeply wrong in him.” Simon’s eyes are flashing with anger. Him saying something like this is shocking, and I know the fury in his eyes is directed towards whomever has hurt Justin. If Simon ever gets his hands on them, well it won’t be pretty. Good thing I have bail money if needed.

  “Do you think he’s beyond saving? Can you help him?” I don’t know what I’ll do if he says there’s no hope. I have already developed an emotional link to Justin. I just don’t know if I can let him go, or give up on him.

  “No,” Simon says softly, knowing I’m already emotionally involved without me having to tell him. “No. We can help him if he lets us. But it isn’t going to be easy. There's so much wrong with him, so much that he’s gone through. We’ll just have to be careful with him. Go at his pace.” The reassurance that Simon thought he might be okay one day was almost a physical relief for me. I slumped back on my stool, not even realizing I’d tensed up that much.

  “But you have to know that something very traumatic happened to that child. Did he give you a last name?” “He said his name is Justin Alexander. I don’t know if that’s his last name or middle, but it's a start. I’ll see what I can find on the internet. Hack into the Department of Children and Families website and see what they have. He’s probably a runaway foster child. You know how bad those places can be.” Simon shook his head at me, giving me a look I knew well. If it hadn’t been for my Father’s insight in leaving Simon to have custody of me, in case of their deaths, I would have been in foster care myself.

  “One of these days you’re going to get caught doing crap like that. But that’s probably a good place to start.” I grinned at him like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Simon knew I was good on the computer, but if he knew all the stuff I was good at… well it's best if he doesn’t. Some of that is classified.

  Shaking my head I sit down in the breakfast nook to the left of the kitchen, booting up my laptop. There’s a computer in more rooms than not in this house. When I want to know something I really don’t want to go looking for one. Plus we spend so much time in the kitchen, I don’t want to miss anything by leaving the room. This way no one has to repeat anything when I come back.

  Surprisingly, the Department of Children and Families website is easy to hack. Maybe they thought no one would want to hack it. I don’t care, the informa
tion on Justin is mostly incomplete anyway. They have his approximate age, no birth record or social security number when he entered Foster Care. No mother or father listed. He was removed by the police from a bad home. No reason why, no address, phone number, no school records, nothing. He was placed into the system, and sent to a group home first. The idea of that made me cringe. Those places are horrid.

  After the group home, he was bounced around from one foster home to another, never staying in one place longer than six months. That really is common. Some of the weakest spots in the system are too few wellness checks, too many kids in one home and noncompliance from the foster parents who don’t want to take the kid to therapy or the doctor. It took too much of their time and effort. More often than not abuse and neglect happen. The only reason most families were in it is for the money, not to actually help the children. But what’s worse is that every once in awhile there is a good family, but the child is still moved. They have a flawed system and the kids usually come out messed up, traumatized for life.

  As I continued reading the spotty information on the site, I found something interesting. At eight years old he was adopted. There isn’t much after that. A little info on the parents, and the incomplete info the parents were given. The parents were told to keep him in therapy, but weren’t told why he needed it. The DCF blamed everything on the fact that he hadn’t had a family. They expected him to be just fine after he was adopted. Without any information on him, Justin was placed into this family. Somehow he’d been given a birth certificate and social security number. He wouldn’t have been adopted without them, but who knew when he was born? They must have just guessed. The system is so screwed up!

  The parents, from what little info I can find on the DCF site, seem like nice, normal people. I did a little more digging on the family. People just don’t know how much information there is on the internet. Shaking my head, I continue my search. They seem pretty normal, not too much debt, nice apartment in the city. Both have good jobs, and their income is more than enough to support a child. Going onto their Facebook pages I get a glimpse of why Justin was on the street. Both of their pages are covered in baby pictures. It looks like they had a kid of their own and didn’t want Justin anymore.

  “Simon, it looks like they just decided to dump Justin. I found pictures on Facebook of Justin as he grew up, but then nothing of him recently. They had a baby and just didn’t want him anymore.” I’m furious. I just don’t understand why someone would do this to their child, to any child. How can human beings be so cruel?

  “Calm down, David,” Simon says in a soft voice. “Getting angry is good, but you have to make sure you only show it to those who deserve it. And make sure Justin doesn’t think it's him. You have to have all the information before you get mad and want to avenge him. You can’t show Justin anger right now, it’ll just make everything worse and scare him.”

  “Yeah, listen to him. I take it you found Justin?” Charlie says as he walks in the back door. I nod at him, trying to control my anger. He squats beside me, immediately taking a sub position. His posture is perfect as usual, his hands placed on his thighs and his head lowered, my second favorite position. I can see him cutting his eyes up at me from beneath his lashes.

  Smiling, I lift his chin so I can see his face. The naughty look on his face sends fire down my spine. Someone wants to play. I smirk at him. Standing up, I snap my fingers, wanting him to follow me, crawling. I love the desire I see before he lowers his eyes. With him following on his hands and knees, I walk back to my stool. Sitting down I snap my fingers again, wanting him to sit on the floor beside me. Laying his head against my thigh he sighs as I play with his hair, the anger leaves me as I speak to Simon, much calmer than I was before. “He’s probably never had a stable home ever.”

  “I think it's much worse than that. I don’t want to really know what’s happened to that sweet boy, but he’s going to have to unload all that pain one way or another. I just hope we’re in time to help him. He has to want that help though.” The sadness and compassion shown by Simon makes me close my eyes and pray, to whomever is listening, that we can save him. He’s too beautiful and funny to let self destruct. I’m just happy he hasn’t turned to alcohol or drugs yet, I know exactly how bad the road back from that is.

  Petting Charlie's hair comforts both of us. Molly, sensing Simon’s sadness, leans her head on his leg. Whining and nosing at him, she’s being loving while reminding him he has the ham. Simon laughs and gives her another piece that she snarfs up as quick as can be. We all laugh, needing the pressure release. Running my fingers through Charlie’s hair, I decide we’re just going to have to take small steps with Justin. Simon is right, we have to move at his pace.

  CHAPTER 5 JUSTIN

  Locking the door as soon as David has closed it makes me feel a little safer. He has a deadbolt on the door and it’s a lot sturdier than I was expecting. He can still get in if he really tries. I pull a chair across the room, putting it under the knob. I don’t know if that will even work, but in movies and stuff they always do it.

  Feeling a little silly, I walk toward the bathroom. He hadn’t been lying, there’s only one way in and out of the bathroom, one bedroom door and floor to ceiling windows along one of the walls. They don’t open, at least I don’t think they do, but that chair I’d placed under the door knob could be used to smash my way out if needed. My need to check all escape routes doesn’t surprise me. It isn’t new. I may have come with David, but I wasn’t stupid enough to just trust him right off the bat. Simon scares the crap out of me, and Charlie ratted me out to David, so I know I can’t trust him either. I just don’t know what to think about Simon, he’s huge, speaking quietly doesn’t automatically mean a nice person.

  Looking around the bathroom I think I’m in heaven. The jacuzzi style tub is huge. There’s enough room for at least four people. Trying not to think about that, I look in the shower. There are shower heads all over the place. Two overhead and two on the sides not facing the door.

  They must like there bathrooms supersized. Everything is way more than I’ll ever need. Placing the clean clothes on a shelf by the sinks, I turn on the shower to let the water heat up. Looking at my clothes as I take them off, I’m ashamed at the state of them. There just isn’t a good way to get clean safely on the streets. My clothes are just as dirty as I am, that’s nothing new, so I turn toward the shower. Walking into the running water I get pounded by the pressure. I turn the temperature up as far as it’ll go. I’m in heaven. Finally, I’m getting clean, the feeling of the water washing off all the dirt and grime is amazing and the heat relaxes me. I stay in there for quite a while, eyes closed, just letting the water pound against my body, I can let out some of my tears now, nobody will see.

  Pulling myself back together, I look around and see bottles of body wash, shampoo and conditioner. There’s even a brand new loofah to use. David wasn’t kidding when he said they had everything I would need.

  Picking up the loofah and body wash, I scrub every square inch of me I can reach, as hard as I can, twisting and contorting my body in really strange ways, but I want to finally feel clean. It had been one of my wishes on the street, to just be clean again. When my body begins to burn, to tingle with fresh pink skin, I know I’m as clean as I’m going to get.

  Turning to the shampoo next I try to wash the last six months of dirt and grease out of my hair. I wash it three times, and when I finally get all the conditioner out of my hair I realize it’s time to get out of the shower. I didn’t know how long the water would stay hot but not really wanting to leave the bliss of my first real shower since I was kicked out. Turning off the water, I open the shower door, half expecting David to be there. When I look around and see it’s only me, I relax again, reaching for one of the fluffy towels on a rack near the shower door.

  I step over the disgusting pile of filthy clothes that I took off, walking toward the sinks as I dry myself. Looking in the mirror, I almost don’t recognize myself. We
t blonde hair dripping on my chest and shoulders, and hard, cold hazel eyes, I don’t see anything worth saving in the mirror. Taking my eyes off the stranger in the mirror, I look at the clothes David gave me. Again, he kept his promise, there is everything I could possibly need.

  I finish towel drying my hair, looking around to see if there’s a laundry basket. I decide to wrap the clothes up, hide them in the towel, and put them outside the door like David had asked. I never want to see them again, but it’ll probably be better to have them washed anyway. I just might need them in the not too distant future.

  I put on the boxer briefs and pants, they’re just a little bit on the big side but are better than the dirty ones. I pull open the top drawer by the sink, it’s filled with several different deodorants, razors and shaving cream, toothbrushes and toothpaste. They even put in several different aftershaves. I decide to shave off the splotchy, short fuzz on my face. It never really was a beard, not wanting to grow except in certain spots, but it helped disguise my face on the streets. People couldn’t see me, just the dirty bum.

  The scruffy blonde fuzz reminded me of where I’ll have to live again one day. Sooner or later David will get tired of me and send me back. But for now, it has to come off. Shaving, putting on the deodorant I chose and pulling on the soft long sleeve shirt David chose for me, made me feel human again. I could walk down the street and blend in with people with money now. They would see me, I looked like them again. But I’m nothing like them.

  Looking away from the mirror, I clean up the mess I’ve made. Stuffing the deodorant and other things I used in my pack, I try not to be greedy. I don’t want them to know I took the stuff, but I can’t help it. These things will make my life so much easier later.

  Now that I’m clean again, I walk around the bedroom and look at everything. I knew I was stalling. I hadn’t wanted to even leave the bathroom, where I’d found some peace, I feel safe for the moment but how will I feel when I have to leave the bedroom. I’ve made it this far, I’d better just do what David had said.