My back was mercilessly slammed against the nearest building's stone wall. My lips parted slightly, eyes squeezed shut as the air was knocked out of me.
My eyes opened to meet with an opposing pair of furious ones. He was very tense, I noted. I broke the gaze by looking at the bleeding youth behind him. The child was shaking, either from fear or pain, possibly both. Obviously in no condition to get up, at least by the average standards.
My gaze returned to the brute in front if me, whose hands grasped the twisted cloth of my Nintendo 64 shirt. I looked down to his fists and glared at the blood that now covered one of my favorite T-shirts. Bummer. Blood doesn't usually come out unless you wash it right away. It felt necessary to point this out to the bully, but the moment I opened my mouth to talk-"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING!?" As he shouted in my face, I heard a slight whimper behind him.
"Wasn't it obvious?" I responded, "I was stopping you from potentially killing that child."
He shoved me harder against the wall, leaned a little closer, "Well, smartass, I guess I could 'potentially kill' you instead."
During the moment that he brought his fist back to take a swing at me, about a million thoughts took hold of my mind. Mainly- by retracting his arm he was applying less pressure to hold me down, he had created a very large blind spot with the width of his arm, he was entirely focused on unleashing his fury on me at a place where it could kill, he and the child were related somehow, Asaph should be searching down this street right about now, this brute didn't think things through, and most importantly, I kind of feel like tacos tonight. I was also 97.6 percent(or maybe it was 96.7 percent?) sure that there was a great taco truck open on one of the ways home. I would have to make sure I lured Asaph down that street.
As a figure made its way into my peripheral vision, I produced a small grin and let my body fall limp. As I did, I also receded my chest, which I had been extending up until that moment.
During the moment where the only hold he had on me was by shirt, a thin shiny object flew past, right below the gaze of the brute. He quickly released the cloth and retracted his hand, attempting to side step the object. The moment he let go, I shot into an athletic stance, my arm striking out towards the object. My outstretched fingers halted the flying object. I brought the knife to my side.
I glanced at the startled brute, daring him to come closer. He didn't. With a final glance to the child, he sprinted down the alley and out of sight.
I quickly let the fake knife fall to the ground beside me and dropped down to my knees beside the child.
I was not alarmed by the sound of someone approaching. Nor when a hand reached past me to grab the knife and retract. Asaph stood at my side, waiting for me to do whatever necessary with the child.
This time, I spoke. "Open your eyes," I willed in the most comforting and soothing voice I could produce after being slammed against a wall. The child's eyes slowly fluttered open. In his eyes of fear, I sensed a glimmer of hope. This one, I could save.
I smiled warmly, "Anything hurt?" Left to right, the head shook slightly. "Your guardians?" I could feel the hurt from a ways away.
"I don't wanna go back," the kid rasped, tears threatening to pour from the corners of the eyes.
"Would you like to come with us?" I questioned. The child nodded slowly but surely. An arm outstretched past me, offering the child a hand. I smiled inwardly at Asaph. We both knew the act was not out of pure kindness, but there was a hidden meaning behind the move, one that he knew could change a life in the greatest of ways. The offering symbolized opportunity, the opportunity for an endless amount of things. It was the gateway to change, a chance at freedom, yet a sense of security and welcoming. We both knew that this action was an accepting welcome to our family. I wonder what this kid had done to win over Asaph's acceptance in such a short period of time.
The offering was accepted.
As we strolled down Second street I suggested that we stop by a clearance store to grab some fresh attire for the child. Asaph agreed, although I noticed the suspicion in his eyes. He was well trained as to not expose hesitance, however. We grabbed a few shirts, including a fresh Nintendo shirt for me, and a pair of pants. While the kid was looking at some attire, I talked over the situation with Asaph. We agreed that if the child was willing, we could let the police force handle this one. Down the street from the store, coincidentally, on the path home, was a fairly new taco truck open on the side of the road. There wasn't a line. The tacos were a dollar each. I ordered four for me, three for the kid, another four for Asaph, and more for the others. I also stocked up on hot sauce for Simon. One of the weird habits that we didn't happen to share. I wasn't exactly pumped for spicy foods, but I would eat quite the variety when needed.
It felt incredibly serene on the way home. I was feeling plenty of things. Calm. Content. Beyond satisfied. I was supplied with everything necessary to be considerably happy with life.
Yet there was always this nagging thought in the back of my mind. How could one be truly satisfied when others were not so. In this, I had discovered that not one person could ever be satisfied if the previous statement were true, unless we were all satisfied to begin with. We all know that is not so.
I found myself frowning at the realization, once again. This was a thought that came to mind often, much to my displeasure.
"Ciro?" Asaph questioned in curious side gaze. I raised an eyebrow at him thoughtfully. "Meet me up top tonight," he murmured in a low tone, most likely imperceivable to the child, who had recently informed us to call him Joseph. I gave a slight downward tilt of my head to assure Asaph that I would indeed comply to his request. It was then we had reached the edge of the woods and set off into the welcoming darkness of the natural night.
