The Guard To My Sanctuary - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Marco
I was driving to the mall when I saw him being attacked by those two guys in the alley and I just had to help him. The Air Force instilled helping others and selflessness in me so seeing someone in need I jumped into action. It helped that he was attractive but I would have gotten out of my car even if he wasn't.  When the taller black guy pulled his gun on me my training kicked in and I managed to disarm him and restrain him from moving. The white guy was going to try and shoot me but I trained the gun on him. I saw that the black guy wouldn't be of any use so I knocked him out and turned to the white guy. He seemed like he wanted to help the boy and I could see that he in a way loved the boy who was on the ground. He told me to hit him so he could buy time for the boy to get away and I did.
When I finally got Elm to get into the car and cleaned his wounds and saw just how fragile he was despite his determination I knew I couldn't leave him alone. I was scared he had ruptured something or would get attacked again and decide to get on the train with him. He resisted but I wasn't going to take no for an answer and I went to purchase a ticket for the both of us after he pulled out coins and mostly small bills. That strikes me as odd right away. Then him not having any form of identification made the situation more complicated. When he begged the teller for her to let him got on the train in Hindi and she agreed I knew what he had been through was serious. He hadn't spoken since the train had pulled out of the station it was like he was stunned. He remained looking out at the window looking at the trees and buildings that passed sighing with relief every now and then.
He obviously had been through something traumatic based off how he had reacted to me touching him and the men who attacked him. I really wanted to get him to a hospital but knew that arguing that would only lead to him drifting further into his cocoon. I saw how tight he was holding his bookbag and knew that was the only thing of value he owned. He smelled like an amusement park concession stand meaning he smelled of cotton candy but just faintly since he was wearing my sweater. He was a good-looking guy with a nice jawline and bushy eyebrows that I found endearing. His eyes appeared anywhere from light brown to black depending on the lighting he was in. He had a hair texture that I took to assume that he was mixed along with the fact that he spouted out in Hindi earlier. His lips had a pronounced plump shape and were the perfect shade of peachy pink and his teeth peaked under them and were a natural shade of white.
Just using the average common sense I assumed he was some sort of human trafficking victim. I had seen a lot of trafficking victims while working as a  Linguist for the Air force in Syria. He had the same signs that the women and children had in that hellscape. He held onto all of his belongings like they were all he had. He was good-looking and seemed to be reserved. He didn't look to be much over a hundred pounds and seemed quite demure in his mannerisms so I knew he wasn't a fighter. He must have had to use his intelligence to get away because there was no way he could have powered his way away from the men. I wished I spoke Hindi so I could have known what he told the teller and made a mental note to start learning the language.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of his stomach grumbling. I looked at him and noticed he was in pain. I really looked at him and saw the fatigue written over his face. He didn't sleep well last night every hour or so he would wake up in a cold sweat and try to play it off but I noticed.
"When was the last time you ate," I asked looking over to him. He looked over at me then directed his eyes toward the ceiling of the train car and started to think. His eyes were pointed upward for a good solid minute before I interjected.
"That long huh, how about I go get us some stuff from the dining car and we can eat and maybe talk. Also, I need to brush my teeth," I said standing up. His hand reached for my pants and I looked down at him.
"I'm not taking your money," I said removing his hand. He looked up at me with a frightened expression.
'He's scared to be alone. I doubt whoever had kept them left him alone in public.'
"Do you want to come with me," I asked and he nodded his head at me. I noticed as he moved to get us he had a slight limp and sighed when he moved. He grabbed onto my shirt and I looked down at him since he was really short. I started walking with him holding onto me with every movement. We made it to the dining cart where we were sat. I ordered us both pancakes and eggs with orange juice which he dug into right away. He ate like a dainty woman in Paris pushing the food further into his mouth with his fork and using his napkin to pat the food debris from his lips. I felt like a neanderthal as I cut my food up and munched on it. When we were done he looked up at me and looked like he was contemplating saying something to me. He looked so nervous all of that determination he had to get on the train yesterday long since fading revealing a vulnerable guy.
"Is there something you want? Just ask, I won't bite," I said with a soft smirk.
"I don't have a toothbrush or a change of clothes," he said at a low volume with his head down.
"Oh don't be ashamed, how about when we stop to transfer in Chicago in an hour we can go to the store at the station and get you a few things," I said almost reaching over to pat his shoulder but remembering that he more than likely suffered from PTSD. I had intimate knowledge of how that disorder could color your social interactions.
"Okay," he said.
"I have some gum in my bag," I said getting up. He got up with me and grabbed onto my shirt and we walked. I did my best to keep the other passengers from touching him. Since he couldn't brush his teeth I settled for a stick of gum that way he wouldn't feel alone as we made it to our seats. We zoomed into Chicago and I grabbed my bag while Elm grabbed his own we then waited for everyone in our car to get off before we did. Stepping into the morning air was great for me since I got to stretch my long muscular limbs.
"Hey it's over there," I said spotting the gift shop and started walking knowing that Elm was holding my shirt. We weaved in and out of people trying not to have anyone touch Elm who had become increasingly stressed being in the crowd. When we got in I asked the cashier if she had toiletries and she pointed me to the far aisle. We walked together and saw a whole bunch of metal baskets attached to the wall holding travel sized items. Elm grabbed a toothbrush and deodorant. Then we walked over to the clothing section where there were racks of basic Chicago-themed shirts and sweat pants. He went and grabbed a shirt than a pair of sweatpants and we walked to the counter he stopped quickly grabbing a pack of small briefs in black. He tried to pull out his money but I denied him.
"How about you save your money for when you get home," I said and he looked at me wearily started nodding. The woman swiped my card and handed it back to me.
"Alright we have twenty minutes before we have to be on our transfer train let's go brush our teeth then find our seats," I said.
We rushed to the bathroom where he took the disabled stall that had a sink in it saying that he wanted to freshen up. I brushed my teeth and looked through my bag and quickly changed into an almost identical outfit to the one I was wearing and waited for him to come out. I reached for my phone as I stood outside the stall door waiting. I had forgotten about my phone since meeting Elm. Pulling out the jet black iPhone I saw that my best friend Corey had called me a few times. I forgot I had gone out to get the ingredients for lasagna and just ditched him. I sent him a quick text telling him that I was okay and that I had to head to California sooner than I thought. I had recently been transferred to the Monterey base after I had an episode and my command decided to give me a less stressful job. I'd be teaching once I was off of leave at the end of the month so my leaving shouldn't cause too many issues. He responded immediately cussing me out saying that he thought I was in a ditch somewhere and also to be safe. Elm came out of the stall after five minutes still wearing my sweater but also wearing sweatpants and his face looking freshly washed. He looked good despite his bandages.
"Let's go," he said and took hold of my shirt. I began walking to our terminal where we had ten minutes to spare. Looking for our seats was an event since everyone was hustling around and hitting Elm who looked on the verge of a meltdown. I saw that our seats were in the far back and pulled him into the chair near the window. His chest heaved up and down he was about to have a full-fledged panic attack on the train. I took his face into my hands and looked him dead in the eyes while he struggled to breathe.
"Calm down Elm listen to my voice and follow what I say okay," I asked. He nodded while trying to breathe.
"I want you to repeat after me in counting down. 20, 18, 17, 19, 16, 15, 14, 13, 11, 10, 9, 7, 5, 4, 2, 6, 8, 12, 3, 1," I said calmly and clearly.
" 20, 18, 17, 19, 16, 15, 14, 13, 11, 10, 9, 7, 5, 4, 2, 6, 8, 12, 3, 1, ," he repeated getting calmer with each word till he was breathing normally and looked at me weird.
"What did you do," he asked pulling away from me.
"It's a little trick I learned suffering from PTSD. I just fooled your brain into focusing on something other than the stress. Our minds aren't built for multi-tasking and it likes order so scrambling the numbers while counting down your mind worked on the puzzle I was creating rather than outside experiences," I said.
"Oh, how did you get PTSD, and what is that," he asked.
"PTSD means post-traumatic stress disorder it's when your mind is still working on coping with a trauma that you have been through. I got it when my squadron was ambushed in Syria I lost a lot of comrades and I didn't really recover from it properly. Some people get it from being chased by dogs or burning themselves," I said.
"Do I have that," Elm asked looking away from me.
"I'm not a psychologist so I can't diagnose you but I'm assuming that you do, but it's not that bad. I take pills for it and I'm good but you could also go to therapy to talk about whatever you have been through," I reassured him.
"Oh," he whispered.
"Hey, can I ask you a question," I said getting settled into my seat as the sound of the train's horn blowing. He just looked at me so I took it as an in.
"Can you tell me what happened to you, I'm not trying to be nosy I just want to know what happened to you so I can help," I asked looking at him sympathetically. He just stared at me with fear in his eyes along with tears that started to fall. Next thing I know he's sobbing on my shoulder. Other passengers looked to see what was going on but I gave them all a threatening look that caused them to avert their gaze. I wrapped my arm around him and held him tight. His hand held onto my shirt as he sobbed. I knew that at that moment he imprinted onto me. I had to ask myself if it was something I was willing to take on.
'Well you got on a train with him and it's not like you have a choice'
"On January 19, 2007, I was taken from my brothers and father in front of a Publix in San Jose, California by a man named London. He snatched me while my brothers were talking amongst themselves. I was maybe two feet away from them at the time. They threw me into a truck and sped away. I was knocked out and woke up alone on a boat deck that took me all the way to San Diego where I was put on a private plane and taken to Trenton. There I had been rented out by men and assaulted. I was ten years old at the time this started. I only managed to get out by saving the little money I received for five years to get a ticket. I flipped a fire alarm and hit Manny and Jack in the balls and ran. Then they caught up to me after a guy dropped me off closer to the place and then Manny and Jack caught up and Manny started to beat me then you showed up," he said just barely over a whisper. His tears stained my shirt making it almost see through. I looked at him with sympathy and reverence. He looked so small and slight yet he had been through so much from a really young age if I was him I would have given up hope of ever leaving but he pushed on for ten whole years.
"Oh my god Elm," I said cautiously caressing his hair. He cried into my shirt while the scenery continued to change. I started to worry that he was going to go dehydrated and the people on the train stopped glancing from the sides of their eyes.
"I d-don't even know i-if they are still i-in San J-Jose," he stammered.
"Calm down Elm I got you," I said holding him tighter.
"How about this what's your last name so I can look you up to see if your parents are still in town I bet you they have been," I said.
"Elm Euthenia," he said sounding a little tired from crying his heart out.
I pulled out my phone and charger to plug it up so it wouldn't die. I went to my Google app and looked up his name. The WiFi was spotty so it took a few seconds for the screen to load. When it did all I saw were articles and pictures of ten-year-old Elm and artist interpretations of what he would have looked like as he aged that were way off. Every article was about his family and their desperate search even one that was as recent as November.
"They looked for me," I turned to see Elm looking at the screen stunned.
"Of course they did," I said. I looked around and found his father's name 'John Euthenia' I typed his name in and looked around a whole bunch of websites till I found what I was looking for.
"Look, Elm I got his number," I said with a small smile. He looked up with wide eyes and leaned off of me and nodded with a nervous smile. I quickly dialed it into the phone app and heard it ring then handed it to Elm who tentatively took took took in a breath.
"Hello, who is this," a voice appeared throughout. I could only hear it faintly but the man had a deep but kind voice.
"Daddy," Elm said into the phone's receiver...