15
Russell
“Mmph.” Ryan softly whined beside me, waking me instantly.
I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was one thirty in the morning. My heart began to race as I watched Ryan’s restless body. He was having some hellish nightmare. I put my hand on his clammy bare stomach. Ryan recoiled and tried to push my hand away. He began thrashing around more, straining and stretching to get away from the harmful hands in the nightmare.
I sat up and turned the light on. Waking him up in a dark room could cause him to panic. My hand gently stroked his stomach as I called his name. His forehead was wrinkled and glistened with sweat. The sheet around his chest was damp, as were the tips of his hair.
“Ryan, wake up, my boy. You’re dreaming,” I said. “Ryan, come on, wake up.” I subtly shook his arm.
“No!” Ryan shouted, turning his head away from me. He was still trapped in the nightmare. I firmly took hold of his upper arms and called his name over and over until he broke free from the dream and bolted upright. Now awake, he stared at me with wide eyes, clearly confused and lost.
“Ryan, you were having a nightmare,” I said. His eyes roamed the room, checking his surroundings. “You’re safe, my boy. We’re at my parents’ house.”
I let go of his arms and placed a hand on his sweaty chest. The prominent vein in his neck was the telltale sign that his mouth was tightly clamped shut. Under my hand his heart was pounding.
“It was a dream, Ryan.”
“Sorry,” he gritted out. He lowered his head and tried looking away again. I wrapped my arm around his back and gripped his shoulder. I wasn’t going to let him pull away from me and hide.
“Ryan, no. Come here, my boy.”
Though he resisted as I pulled him close to me, when he realized that I wasn’t going to let him escape, he stopped putting up a fight. I propped the pillows up against the headboard while I kept my other hand on his chest. I leaned against the pillows and pulled him against me so his head was partially on my chest and abdomen. Hoping to calm him down, I held a hand against his stomach while I rubbed his chest.
“We can stay like this for the rest of the night, Ryan.” I stilled my hand over his chest to see if his heart had slowed some, but it was still pounding rapidly. “What was your dream about?”
“Train.”
“Were you alone, or were there people around?” I was cautious with my wording.
“My brother was there.” Ryan laughed quietly. “Which is funny because he never had to go.” His hands fidgeted nervously with the sheets as he revealed a combination of pieces from his dream and reality. “They hated me, which is why I was taken there and he wasn’t.”
His parents repulsed me. They abused and neglected both boys and pitted them against one another. But what they did to Ryan was torture. Each time his father took him to work, it was a different level of abuse.
Even in his mid-thirties, all Ryan pulled away from his time at the train yard was that his parents hated him and were punishing him. I didn’t think he had deduced that there was probably an easy explanation for him being taken rather than his older brother. Greed. His parents were able to make more money off Ryan because he was younger.
Ryan finally took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pulling me away from thoughts surrounding his disgusting parents. For Ryan’s sake, I focused on my breathing, keeping it as even and steady as possible.
“Good boy. Do it again, take another deep breath,” I encouraged.
“Did I make a lot of noise? Do you think your folks heard me?”
“I don’t think so. Besides, it wouldn’t matter if they had. They know there are horrors in your past.”
“I hope they didn’t hear.”
“Try to relax. Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing. I have you, my boy.”
Without another word, he continued to fidget with his hands, move a foot or a leg off and on for a while longer. Each time his movements seemed to go on for a bit longer, I would try to calm him by rubbing or patting his chest again. Ryan would settle down for a bit only to start back up a few moments later. Finally, at around a quarter to three, his breathing grew calm and his body remained peaceful.
I slept for a while and woke up when I felt Ryan move. My arms were still around him, and he seemed to just be rolling over. Instead of rolling away from me, he rolled toward me and draped his arm over my abdomen. As I stroked his back to settle him down again, I realized his skin was no longer sweaty or clammy. I was pleased his body had relaxed and regulated again for him. The sunlight was creeping in, and the scent of coffee had worked its way into our room, but he needed to sleep, and I was going to remain beside him. Nightmares often took so much out of him, so I tried to keep us in bed when he had them.
Given our interrupted sleep, we stayed in bed until close to eight. I’d been wide awake since seven thirty but gently stroked Ryan’s back while I thought about our plans for the day.
We were well into December now and only a week from Christmas. Though we had taken my parents into Indianapolis to holiday shop several times, I hadn’t been able to shop for Ryan yet. I had the perfect gift in mind and needed to find a moment to step away and get it. Last night before we had gone to bed, we talked about me perhaps going into Indianapolis for a while to do some shopping, but I wasn’t so sure if leaving him home with my parents was such a good thing today. It had taken him a few days since our arrival to relax with my parents, but by the end of Black Friday, Ryan had relaxed into his usual self. It was delightful watching him interact naturally in the company of my parents. A smile forced its way onto my face as I recalled Ryan charming my mother, aunt, and cousin while we shopped on Black Friday with them. He would be fine with my parents, but I liked to be close to him the day following nightmares. I’d play it by ear and see how he was this morning.
With Ryan still in my arms, I could tell by his breathing that he was awake.
