INDIGO

PART FOUR

His hair looked so fluffy after it dried from washes, and I would always play with it while he ate. I often brought him the lunch I was supposed to eat at school, but instead saved since I didn't know how to make sandwiches myself at the time. I was getting kind of tired of trying to explain things to him with actions like charades and started to teach him little commands... like a dog. I guess the only thing different was I didn't have to reward him to get him to do something and he tended to try and repeat the word back to me. It was really like teaching a little kid, but by then I was newly 9 and still not skilled in being any sort of teacher.

I mostly used "wait" for when I needed to go do something or if he was trying to get my attention when I was busy. When I would leave, I'd say "goodbye" and if it was late I'd say "goodnight", and when I greeted him, I'd say "hello, good morning/afternoon/evening". It was kinda like how they taught me in kindergarten! I taught him what "me/I" and "you" meant, really basic things like that. Though I would tell him to wait when I would get up to do something, he would always try to follow me, so I started to teach him "Stay." One day, I told him that command, needing to drop by at a friend's house and didn't want him getting lost. He listened and sat in our usual corner of the backside of the alleyway, as I made my way out on my deteriorating bike. Just as the day of Indigo's first haircut, clouds loomed overhead and rain started to pour. My friend's mother offered to let me stay over, so I messaged my own mom and got the go ahead.

It was an awkward and random sleepover, and I would have preferred staying with Indigo instead. I didn't think much of what he might have been feeling, since I often had to leave early. The next day, I went home and had breakfast with my grandma. She quickly sent me out of the door to play as her grandma friends came over for their typical money-betting bingo days. I rode peacefully downtown, noting how familiar I had grown with this area and how comfortable I felt there. It was always busy, but taking my bike was a good idea since every street had a normally empty bikeway. I arrived at the entrance of the alleyway, which was always dark even on the sunniest of days. Today was happy and warm and lively. I was excited to greet Indigo, but as I set my bike against the peeling wall, I heard a thump thump thump come from the back, which I couldn't see as my eyes still hadn't adjusted.

I walked slowly into the black void which gradually became less and less opaque, shapes becoming recognizable, when I saw two middle school aged boys standing side by side in front of the back wall. I glanced down and saw Indigo sitting down in front of them against the wall. 'Hello?" I called out, wondering why these boys were trying to approach him. One boy turned to me, revealing the bloodied skateboard he held, and Indigo's abused face and upper body. I felt my breath escape me, as if I had just been punched in the stomach with shock.

After processing the situation in a fraction of a second, my legs pulled me forward and I dropped down in front of Indigo, wrapping my arms around his head and pulling him into a protective hug. I shot my head back at them and yelled, 'Get– get away!" The boys seemed amused along with their confusion with my involvement. "Naw. We wanna use this 'way for skateboarding. This brat won't move." Won't move? Why didn't he just let them? Why would he keep sitting here if they beat him? That's when it hit me. I told him to "stay."

I turned back towards Indigo and locked eyes with him. I felt my throat lump and my eyes squint as tears began to rise. "Th— there's an alley similar to this down the street. It, uhm, it— it should be, like, the third one down. I'm sorry," I shakily spoke. "Crybaby. Fine, we'll go there, but teach that brat some manners, will ya?" The second middle-schooler spoke, nodding his friend along with him. I couldn't have been more relieved to watch them go without too much struggle, but that didn't alleviate any sort of pain I felt from seeing Indigo so injured.

He wasn't wearing the hoodie, as it was starting to heat up in Wikker around that time of year, so his skin was covered in scrapes which had to have come from the grip tape of their skateboards. He bled in almost all of those areas, but the most blood was coming from a large gash on his upper arm which was almost in a zig-zag like shape. After scanning his body and rapping out "You're okay," over and over, I pulled out wipes from my backpack and attempted to use them as towels. He cried out when I did this, now I know this was because that must have stung really bad, but I hadn't thought about what was in wipes and why they're not used to treat wounds.

Luckily I did decide to stop using them and instead, with little thinking, started using my shirt to press on the bleeding areas. He calmed down after a while and I did too, thinking clearer when there wasn't as much panic with the bleeding slowing. I knew I couldn't leave him here with nothing, so I didn't hesitate to get him situated on my bike, in a rather awkward way as he refused to get on the back with the pegs, and rode the two of us to my house. He held onto the base of the handle and crouched between me and the front of the bike, having his feet one in front of the other balancing on the single pole connecting the seat to the handle. It was super difficult, but I managed to get us there in about 40 minutes.