INDIGO

PART TWO

Maybe two weeks had passed from this event and this was about the time my mom stopped gripping my hand so tightly that I lost blood circulation whenever we went to public places. I was allowed to go out and play and ride my bike around the area! My first thought for this privilege was to go find Indigo. I grabbed my neon red backpack and stuffed it with my favorite candy for Indigo, but when I thought about it, I knew it was a bad idea and then replaced it with snacks and sandwiches my mom had made for me. I put a few water bottles in and some wipes. The backpack was so heavy, I almost had to waddle as I walked, being that I wasn't very heavy myself at that age.

I was almost out the door, when I thought to bring my tablet too! I shoved it into my backpack and then was officially on my way. Downtown was only around a 20 minute bike ride, not including the little breaks I'd take between to visit school friends! My parents had work so my grandma was watching me that day, and she was one who didn't care what I did as long as I was back by dinner. That meant I had three whole hours.

The whole ride there took about 30 minutes and that's because I hadn't even visited any friends! The extra weight made me tired super fast. I walked my bike up the streets of downtown Wikker, searching the alleys for Indigo. Eventually I found the one we met in, with the muted green dumpster that was crookedly aligned with the wall. I set down my bike near the entrance and walked down the alley, but he wasn't there. When I reached the back of the alleyway, I noticed it wasn't a dead end and that there was a small area to the left. I glanced into it and heard shallow wheezing.

I rushed down to find Indigo sitting up against a wall looking like he could pass out at any moment. When I approached, it seemed like he wanted to get up and run but the only thing he could manage was a wince. I panicked for a second, searching his skin for wounds and asking him what was wrong. I realized this was no use and turned to my backpack for ideas. I pulled out a water bottle and fumbled it into his lap. He grabbed it with what seemed like his final force of movement, but couldn't lift it. I opened it and brought it up to his mouth, thinking about the time I bottle fed my baby cousin once maybe a year ago. He stared, not knowing what was happening, so I reached up and pulled his chin to open his mouth, very slowly pouring the water.

His hands wrapped around mine that was holding the bottle and he started to chug it, not even taking a breath before finishing it all the way through, with small streams dripping down his chin onto my hand. He panted and looked at me with what seemed to be gratitude, but I knew that this wasn't all he needed. I looked into my bag, trying to find something easy to eat, and pulled out a small fruit snack bag. I ripped it open and dumped the contents into my palm, picking them individually and feeding them to him. Once he took the first bite, his head started leaning towards my hand for the next one. He had to have been starving for days.

He finished a few bags of these until I decided to give him the sandwich, which he ate in a desperate manner. Though I hadn't noticed it myself at the moment, I started crying watching him eat. You could tell even his large craving for food didn't strengthen his ability to chew and he struggled to keep up with his distressed pace of eating. He pushed through his full stomach and finished the sandwich, leaning back against the wall and having a dazed expression. I pulled my sleeve to my hand and wiped his mouth, which had crumbs and water still around it, imitating my mom. When I looked at my sleeve it was more than just that that had wiped off.

It was then that I was reminded of the wipes, which I quickly tugged out of my bag and slowly started to work his face. I expected him to be confused and maybe even scared of what I was doing, but he just sat there and let it happen, not even being bothered how close I had gotten. Had I earned his trust? It was a giddy feeling, but I tried my best not to compare him to a dog again in my head. Instead, I thought, "I made a new friend."

I went through three wipes just cleaning his face and neck. His skin was clear and fair, besides the bruises and scars he had. I noticed the hoodie was still about as clean as it had been when I gave it to him, which was curious considering I knew he was dirtier than then. Once I was done, I sat down next to him and we just stayed silent. I turned my head to watch him as he gazed aimlessly at the cloudy sky. His eyes fluttered shut and I noticed his breathing was back to normal as its volume raised when he fell asleep. I thought of my mom again and pulled his head onto my shoulder, hoping it'd be more comfortable for him.