“I’m glad you’re here,Ryan.”
When he slowly pulled away from my face, my head followed his and leaned closer, hoping for one more taste. He took a step backward and looked at me as I sagged against the door. I knew that he was assessing me, and he was too good at it. He gently slid the pad of his thumb under myeyes.
“Rough night,Ryan?”
“Morning, actually,” Isighed.
I didn’t have to hide from Russell. No matter what demons chased me in the night, I didn’t have to play them off or withhold it from Russell. He told me that my demons were not too big forhim.
Russell’s hand found its way to my stomach. It was as though his hand urged me to lean on him and put my heavy thoughts on him. I lowered my guard further and stared at him. It was almost too easy to be aroundRussell.
“Talk to me, Ryan.” His thumb continued to gently press and rub at the bags under my eyes. “Why didn’t you call or textme?”
“It happened right before I got up. It hadn’t been long before I sent you my good morningtext.”
“Yes, yet that had been omitted from thetext.”
“It was so fresh, Russell.” I leaned my head back against his door, exhaustion had waged war on me today. “But,” I mumbled and paused as I fished out the nightmare journal from between the folded shirts that were now clutched against my chest, “I broughtthis.”
I held the journal out, and he took it from my hands along with the stack of t-shirts. While he read the entry for today, I rubbed my chest. The shirts had felt warm against my body, and now a chill lay where they hadbeen.
I felt embarrassed that I had given him the notebook with the few words scrawled across the page with today’s date on it. They were just a few words to him, but they meant much more to me. I didn’t think that I could talk much about them right then so I focused on his chest as he read, and prayed that he wouldn’t ask meanything.
I closed my eyes for a moment when I felt his thumb graze my ear. Russell’s palm pressed lightly against the bottom of my ear, and his fingers stretched to the back of my head and curled around. I felt weaker and fought leaning into his hand. My eyes opened, and I stared at his chest when he set his hand on mystomach.
“You had been beaten at the train yard with a hanger because you cried and made noise,” Russell said in the most caring of tones. He hadn’t asked, and there hadn’t been a question about it in his mind. He had pieced ittogether.
I nodded as I looked in his eyes for a brief moment, but looked down at his chest as I quickly clarified, “Yes, in the dream thismorning.”
He had been quiet, so I looked at his eyes. He had been waiting for me to look athim.
“Just in the dream, not inreality?”
I thought about denying it, but this was Russell. He knew just about everything, and I couldn’t hide anything from him. I shook my head to confirm that it wasn’t just in the dream. Suddenly, I felt an urge to speak, and ended up verbally vomiting a ton of stuff that I wished I couldretract.
“There was a car, a boxcar, that was always out of commission. It had become a storage car. All sorts of things were in there. That’s usuallywhere—”
I had intended on being able to finish the sentence, but too much was coming at me that I had wanted to keep out. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop my mind from going backthere.
“Ryan, look at me,” Russell’s voice pulled me out of the train yard, and I focused on him. “Good boy, Ryan.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead and patted my stomach. “Thank you for bringing me your dreamjournal.”
I nodded; the dream was shaking loose. Russell knew what woke me up early. He seemed genuinely happy that I gave him the notebook, which made me happy because I knew that I made him happy. I could be just as good as that Leonard guy. I could follow directionstoo.
“Also, you made me smile this morning, Ryan. When I got your text about your shirtsizes.”
Good, we were moving away from thenightmare.
“Yeah, I’m going to get some new shirts soon, and I’ll make sure they are a bettersize.”
He tugged on the sleeves of my shirt and smiled atme.
“You are very easy on the eyes, Ryan. No need to hide anymore.” He paused long enough for me to tell him that I understood. “Come on, let’s get you taken careof.”
He motioned toward his hallway, letting me know to take the lead. While walking down the long stretch to his room, I tried not to get hung up on the wording of his phrase:taken care of.I didn’t think that I needed to be taken care of, but I did need the beating. God, how I needed thebeating.
When I got into his room, I stood in front of the full-length mirror between the bed and his open closet door. I went down on one knee, untied my boot, and pulled it off. I switched to the other knee and removed the other boot. I carried them into his closet and set them down in my designated shoespot.
I went back to the mirror and pulled off my shirt, but it was probably faster than Russell liked. He liked for me to go slow. I looked at Russell, and before I could apologize for going too fast, he held his hands out and made a “slow down” motion with them. I nodded so he knew that I understood. I felt more than just my skin being exposed. I started to go for my belt but stopped when I remembered to touch. I looked in the mirror and moved my hand from the left side of my chest to theright.
