Oakley, sad and defeated, looked at me.
He really was like an abused animal. One that wanted to be loved, but scared to try to accept it.
That was okay. I had plenty of time to earn his trust. One day at a time. One hour at a time.
I continued to read, turning page after page, while Oakley decided what he was going to do.
Eventually, he crawled on hands and knees, paci in his mouth, towards me. When he was inches away, he sat, knees pulled to his chest, head resting atop them. He didn’t look at me, but this was a start.
Giving him time to settle, I didn’t draw attention to him. I kept reading. I did, though, take the cup and put it on the other side of me, closer to him. The lid had a sprout, hoping it’d alone get him to try it.
Slowly, as I finished up the third chapter, Oakley began to drink from the cup, sucking on the tip like he’d done it a million times before.
At the end of the chapter, I bent the page at the top, before shutting it. It was then that Oakley’s eyes widened before they bounced back to the closet.
“No more hiding today, little one,” I spoke as softly as I could. “We are going to get some food, then a bath, then I’ll tend to those bite marks.”
My eyes landed on his arm, where his teeth bit deep in too many places. But as I talked, his head began to shake back and forth too quickly, like he was fighting his thoughts, or maybe one of the ideas I had pointed out.
“Settle,” I soothed, laying a hand on his head. Instantly, he stopped moving, holding his breath for a long second before it came whooshing out. “Although you are in trouble, there won’t be any pain tonight. No punishments. Not until we talk. And you aren’t in the right headspace for that.”
His shoulders slumped, but he didn’t pull away from my touch. Oakley wasn’t in an adult frame of mindand hadn’t been since he woke up today. Whatever happened last night messed him up. I wanted to find out why, but I wasn’t going to get any answers. Not when he freaked out about something so simple.
“Sandwiches. Something easy, I think. But,” I paused, moving my hand from his hair. He went to follow the motion but stopped just in time before he fell into me. “Milk or apple juice?”
His eyes squinted, either in thought or confusion. “I don’t want the answer you think I want. Which one, little one? Milk or apple juice?”
All he managed was to suck on the paci harder, his face paling.
We’d have to work on him making some choices,I thought.
“You’ll have until I finish making up the sandwiches to decide. If you don’t-“
“Juice,” he started quickly before I could finish.
“Good boy, thank you.” I touched his cheek, and he forced himself to stay still against my palm. “Very good.”
He breathed, daring to look up at me for a long second. His greenish eyes held so many thoughts, so many emotions, in that one fleeting moment. He didn’t believe that he was good.
Pulling away, I stood, regretting my choice of sitting on the floor for so long. My tailbone throbbed from the hard floor, and my knees popped as I moved.
Holding a hand out to Oakley, he looked at it for a beat before slowly just standing on his own, tucking his arms around his body.
Baby steps,I reminded myself.
“Use the bathroom, then meet me in the kitchen.” Again, the order was given quietly. I didn’texactly want to clean up pee for a second time in eighteen hours, even though I would.
Bodily fluids weren’t bad compared to brain splatter.
The boy was quick to run to the bathroom, and I made my way downstairs. I got his cup of juice filled first, setting it on the table before I got busy with making two sandwiches. Simple turkey and cheese, a bit of mayo, and bread. I cut his into bite-sized pieces.
I highly doubted he’d eat all of it, but I’d be pleased if he could at least eat half.
“Sit where you want,” I spoke over my shoulder, putting away the cold items back into the fridge when I heard Oakley shuffle into the kitchen.
I wasn’t surprised when I turned, finding Oakley kneeling by my chair. His back was straight, arms folded across his torso, and the pacifier being sucked on.
I tilted my head, wondering if that was where Donny preferred him, or if it was just where the boy felt more comfortable. I’d ask, but it was hard enough to get answers from the boy.
