Ginger Fox

"Is this one of those cool moments?" I smile, nodding to Jon, raising my hand for a high-five, which he quickly reciprocates.
"This is definitely a cool moment!" I open the jeep’s door, letting him hop in, tossing the backpack he was holding onto the back seat.
When I first arrived at the garage, I found him sitting with a distant, almost downcast expression, but the moment he saw me, a smile spread across his face, and he instantly brightened up. We didn’t waste any time choosing which vehicle to take, especially when we spotted the red jeep with the top down, big rugged tires, and a presence that outshined all the other cars.
I open the driver’s door, slide into the seat, and after adjusting Jon’s seatbelt, I fasten my own. My fingers slowly glide over the leather steering wheel, a broad grin spreading across my face as if I’m caressing a spectacular man. Jon fiddles with the sun visor, making a pair of sunglasses drop into his lap. I pick them up, adjust the frame, and place them on his face. He checks himself out in the rearview mirror, laughing at the sight of the shades. I quickly grab the backpack from the back seat, pulling out the cap I had stored inside. After tossing the backpack back, I hand the cap to Jon. He adjusts it on his head, showing off how neatly it fits.
"Looking sharp!" I whistle at him as he settles into the passenger seat, letting his arm rest on the door.
As soon as I start the car, the stereo kicks in, and Bruno Mars begins singing "24K Magic." I glance at Jon to see if he wants me to change the station, but I catch him bobbing his head along with the beat.
"Hmm, someone likes hip-hop..." I nod my head along with him, matching the rhythm. I crank up the volume, maxing it out.
Soon enough, Jon and I are leaving the mansion behind. And nothing is more satisfying than seeing him, at least for this moment, just being a normal kid his age.


***


To say we had great adventures would be a lie. I think the greatest of all was a nervous crab that tried to pinch my feet when I stepped on it by accident, making me run away like crazy. Jon just laughed, twisting his body and holding his belly, laughing out loud when he saw me desperate with that terrible animal. In the morning we enjoyed the beach and, even against his will, I practically smeared him head to toe in sunscreen. Only after that were we allowed to swim in the sea. Like any boy who loves water, Jon simply radiated joy with every splash the wave gave him. I took advantage of those spontaneous and relaxed moments to learn a little more about what his life was like when he wasn't here. Jon spends the rest of the year at a boarding school in Germany, which Lorane had found for him. Sometimes his maternal grandmother comes to visit him in the summer. He talked a lot about his favorite classes, but at no point did he mention any friends. When I was drying his body, I noticed a small scratch on his back that was starting to disappear. I stayed silent, looking at my nails, not knowing if I had done that to him. Jon hits himself a lot at night, but his sleep is no longer as aggressive as it was in the first few days. Jon feels at peace sleeping in my room. I would remember having scratched him by accident.
Lying on the sand, enjoying the sun after we had played a lot in the water, with my eyes closed, I feel a slow touch on my left breast, scraping over the nipple, like an intimate caress.
"Jon!" I sit up alert, seeing him flinch at my reaction. I didn't mean to scare him, but the way he caressed my breast is not the kind of touch a boy his age should know. "You can't touch the private parts of my body."
I speak calmly, but it's enough for him to know that he can never do that again. My trembling fingers run through my hair to hide my nervousness. Jon is looking at me in confusion, closing himself off as he circles his thin arms over his knees.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to make you happy,” he whispers embarrassedly, lowering his face to hide his face near his leg. “Don’t be mad at me, I want you to be my friend.”
I rub my face in agony, breathing quickly and understanding what went through his head. Jon wanted to please me, thinking that if he touched me I would be happy, as an exchange. A damn exchange of sexual favors! I get angrier when I see, clearly, that my suspicions were right. I take a deep breath, feeling disgusted by what they do to this boy, using his need for affection to steal his innocence. What can I do? Who can I blame? It will be my word against everyone else’s in that house, and the real culprit will be silenced forever. I will return to Columbia knowing that I failed Jon. I had embarked on this trip to have everything I wanted: to see new places, to talk to different people, but it was little Jon who crossed my path, and now he needs me more than I needed this trip. I take another deep breath, until I feel ready to talk to him, without my voice being nervous.
“Jon, I’m not mad at you.” My hand touches his shoulder, slowly straightening his body. “One thing is certain in your life: I will always be your friend.” I try to hold back my tears, which threaten to come down. I lower my fingers, leaving them on my leg, looking at him affectionately.
“It’s not healthy for a child to touch an adult’s body.”
“I’m not a child.” He sniffs, folding his arms.
“You’re right, thirteen years old makes you almost a pre-teen. But it’s still not right for an adult to touch you. And much less for an adult to touch you. That’s a crime.” My fingers meet his and I hold his hand, making him look at me. — Jon, you can trust me, I can help you. I just need you to give me a name.
His eyes lower, lingering for a moment on my fingers, which are holding his hand. I feel my heart beating faster, I wish he would just tell me. I just need a damn name to get him out of this suffering.
— Look, what a pleasant surprise! — The pimply Bob, with his acid voice and cynical humor, cuts the connection he had made with Jon.
My face moves to the body that stopped behind Jon, glaring at him angrily. I feel the thin hand, which was holding my fingers, let go. Jon stands up, walking closer to the sea, becoming more closed than a shell that holds a precious pearl. Damn that damn Joker!