He wants to help us. You can hear him, don’t play pretend. Please let him help us. Say yes to him touching. Come on. You never listened to me before, you have to this time.
Bowie had shut out his animal when it nagged at him to ignore Rex’s barrage and get up off the floor. Only, Rex had sucked away any desire to move with the hurt weighing him down. He remained where he’d landed—wet, in pain, mortified, and wounded in ways he’d never been before in his life. His familyand his adoptive family had crushed his soul, but they’d never laid hands on him. Never hit him.
Rex…
He whimpered mournfully at how he had done nothing to protect himself. How desperate he’d been to be loved; he had ignored all the signs that Rex was using him. The words Rex had hammered into him were on repeat. Sinking into the fabric of his being, ensuring there was no mistaking what a pitiful creature he was.
The strength of Kari’s familiar aftershave increased, and the presence of warmth, letting Bowie know just how close he was.
Words brushed over his ear. “Bowie, I need you to give me permission to touch. Until you do, I’m gonna stay right here until you’re ready. I promise I will not leave you.”
Bowie felt a thump in his chest at the caring voice. At the promise. Was it real?
Of course, it is. Kari is always honest with us, always! Say yes, please.
Too tired to deny how much he needed to believe Kari, he sniffled, inching his head back, his neck muscles screaming at the movement. Whimpering, he inched a little further back until his head was out of his knees.
His tear sticky eyes opened, then shut as they blurred, stinging at the brightness coming through the windows.
“You can leave, I’ve got this.”
“If you’re sure?” a voice Bowie vaguely recognized asked.
“I am,” Kari replied softly.
There was a distant sound of a door shutting.
Bowie couldn’t bring himself to care that someone else had seen how pathetic he was as he whispered hoarsely, “Yes.” His eyelids fluttered open.
“Good boy,” Kari murmured, shifting closer still. “There you are.” A gentle fingertip wiped away a stray tear. “I’m going tohelp you to the bathroom, and I’m going to take care of you, so you don’t need to worry. But first, can you tell me if you’re hurt anywhere besides your throat?”
The authority was nothing like Rex's. There was a softness, like the warm caress of a fleece blanket to his chilled skin for the briefest moment until his sluggish mind registered what Kari was referring to. He scrunched his eyes shut at the wave of humiliation.
“No, Babycakes, you’re not hiding from me.” Eyes firing open, startled, Bowie stared at Kari. “This is not your fault.So, tell me where else hurts.”
Did Kari really believe that when he didn’t know what Bowie had done? He carefully lifted his elbow, only to whine pathetically at how it throbbed and seemed locked in place. “Elbow,” sobbed Bowie.
“Okay, Babycakes, just leave it like that and I’ll try to avoid it.”
His heart took flight, and he went rigid at the arm sliding around his back and the other under his knees. Right under the stinking, pee dried pants. He released a startled cry at being scooped up off the floor like he weighed very little. Bowie knew differently.
“Did I hurt you?”
It took seconds to get the air into his chest and for his voice box to work. “Not you,” he managed in a croak, unable to point out how sorry he was Kari had to touch his stinky self.
They were moving when Kari spoke next. “Was it Rex who hurt you?”
The shuddery breath came out as a distressed noise at the question when Kari easily figured it out. Bowie just bobbed his head, dipping his chin, hiding his shame.
“You don’t need to hide from me, Babycakes.”
Despite the fluttering he felt right under his breastbone, Bowie was confused at how Kari kept referring to him as ‘babycakes’.No one had ever had a nickname for him, and he didn’t get why Kari did.
“I’m going to help you get undressed and showered.”
There wasn’t a memory he had of anyone offering to help him in this way. His parents must have bathed him at some point when he was little, but Bowie had no recollection of it. His tired and sluggish brain didn’t know how to respond. Not that it was a question. Or was it? If it was, what was the right answer?
Yes. Yes, is the right answer.
