a slow serious tone. “No, I’m not kidding. What about a kid.” Dodge stood there, his flashlight shining outward and even though dark, he looked stunned.
“Dodge?” I walked to him.
He faced a different direction, and when I approached Dodge, he didn’t move. He only shifted his glossed over eyes to mine then again he looked outward. Were they tears forming in his eyes? What made him instantaneously emotional?
My lips moved to ask a question, but a single step to Dodge and a glance into the beam of light took away my breath when I saw.
Perhaps slightly blinded by the spotlight, he locked a stare on us with a scared and shocked expression that matched ours. Huddled frightened on the floor at the end of aisle fourteen, against the shelf of action hero figures, eating from a bag of cheese goldfish was a little boy.
23. Found
He wanted to run. Had he not backed up into the shelf, scared out of his wits, the little boy would have taken off.
No older than four or five, the child was shaking. Empty juice boxes scattered around him, he omitted an odor that I had smelt before … on myself. He smelled exactly as I did.
“Son,” Dodge spoke softly.
His little eyes widened, he whimpered in what I guessed was fear and inched back.
“We aren’t gonna hurt you.” Dodge reached out his hand. “Come on. Let us help you.”
The boy didn’t move. I could see his little home there on the floor of the toy department. The Action Jackson Adventurer mask that illuminated must have been his light source.
I moved back while Dodge proceeded with caution, not wanting to scare him away.
Reaching into the cart, I grabbed one of the loose blankets that were only bound by a band of paper.
“What are you doing?” Dodge asked me.
“Trust me.” I said and flapped out the blanket. I didn’t want to tell Dodge the reason I thought he was failing was because he was big and scary. Hell, he scared me when I first met him.
Blanket draped over my arm, I walked by Dodge and crouched. I passed to the child my most compassionate and motherly look.
Sense it, I beckoned in my mind, Sense the mom in me.
I slowly widened my arms, crouching a few feet from him. Staring at him, leaving my eyes connected to him.
Wiggling my fingers slowly, I spoke as soft as I could, conveying as best as I knew how, that I understood he was hurt and scared. Sometimes the simple tone of a voice could sway a child more than anything. “Baby, come here. Come on sweetie.”
Down went the drink box and the boy jumped up, racing to me and nearly tripping over his child like survival items.
He ran straight into my arms, barreling me over and knocking me to my backside. His tiny arms wrapped around my neck so tight, his face pressed to mine and legs clenched to my body.
“It’s okay, I have you. I have you.” I whispered, my hand cradling his head while my other arm clutched him as tightly as I could.
At that moment it didn’t matter how badly he smelled, how dirty he was. He was child, lost and scared and he found safety in my embrace.
It was obvious he wasn’t letting go. His arms would tense up, relax then tense again as if he released, I’d let him go.
I wasn’t. No way no how.
Then in the midst of that hold, it started as a whimper and cascaded into a full blown cry. The child wept uncontrollable. And then I too, lost it and began to sob. My heart instantly broke for the little boy, for all he endured and experienced. The losses, the suffering, he was child, even more so a young one. A baby to me.
We weren’t going anywhere, not yet. I emotionally couldn’t move nor did I want to. Not yet. For the time being, on the floor of that discount store, I held on to more than a broken child, I held on to the first sign of living.
24. Dirty
Dodge gathered up a bunch of drink boxes, as many as he could find. It was something I didn’t have at the house and knowing children, getting the boy to drink water would be tough.
I think
“Dodge?” I walked to him.
He faced a different direction, and when I approached Dodge, he didn’t move. He only shifted his glossed over eyes to mine then again he looked outward. Were they tears forming in his eyes? What made him instantaneously emotional?
My lips moved to ask a question, but a single step to Dodge and a glance into the beam of light took away my breath when I saw.
Perhaps slightly blinded by the spotlight, he locked a stare on us with a scared and shocked expression that matched ours. Huddled frightened on the floor at the end of aisle fourteen, against the shelf of action hero figures, eating from a bag of cheese goldfish was a little boy.
23. Found
He wanted to run. Had he not backed up into the shelf, scared out of his wits, the little boy would have taken off.
No older than four or five, the child was shaking. Empty juice boxes scattered around him, he omitted an odor that I had smelt before … on myself. He smelled exactly as I did.
“Son,” Dodge spoke softly.
His little eyes widened, he whimpered in what I guessed was fear and inched back.
“We aren’t gonna hurt you.” Dodge reached out his hand. “Come on. Let us help you.”
The boy didn’t move. I could see his little home there on the floor of the toy department. The Action Jackson Adventurer mask that illuminated must have been his light source.
I moved back while Dodge proceeded with caution, not wanting to scare him away.
Reaching into the cart, I grabbed one of the loose blankets that were only bound by a band of paper.
“What are you doing?” Dodge asked me.
“Trust me.” I said and flapped out the blanket. I didn’t want to tell Dodge the reason I thought he was failing was because he was big and scary. Hell, he scared me when I first met him.
Blanket draped over my arm, I walked by Dodge and crouched. I passed to the child my most compassionate and motherly look.
Sense it, I beckoned in my mind, Sense the mom in me.
I slowly widened my arms, crouching a few feet from him. Staring at him, leaving my eyes connected to him.
Wiggling my fingers slowly, I spoke as soft as I could, conveying as best as I knew how, that I understood he was hurt and scared. Sometimes the simple tone of a voice could sway a child more than anything. “Baby, come here. Come on sweetie.”
Down went the drink box and the boy jumped up, racing to me and nearly tripping over his child like survival items.
He ran straight into my arms, barreling me over and knocking me to my backside. His tiny arms wrapped around my neck so tight, his face pressed to mine and legs clenched to my body.
“It’s okay, I have you. I have you.” I whispered, my hand cradling his head while my other arm clutched him as tightly as I could.
At that moment it didn’t matter how badly he smelled, how dirty he was. He was child, lost and scared and he found safety in my embrace.
It was obvious he wasn’t letting go. His arms would tense up, relax then tense again as if he released, I’d let him go.
I wasn’t. No way no how.
Then in the midst of that hold, it started as a whimper and cascaded into a full blown cry. The child wept uncontrollable. And then I too, lost it and began to sob. My heart instantly broke for the little boy, for all he endured and experienced. The losses, the suffering, he was child, even more so a young one. A baby to me.
We weren’t going anywhere, not yet. I emotionally couldn’t move nor did I want to. Not yet. For the time being, on the floor of that discount store, I held on to more than a broken child, I held on to the first sign of living.
24. Dirty
Dodge gathered up a bunch of drink boxes, as many as he could find. It was something I didn’t have at the house and knowing children, getting the boy to drink water would be tough.
I think
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