Boondocks

Chapter 33: Strange Dreams

WILLOW

As the night drew on with no sign of Croc, gravity seemed to increase. It weighed heavy on my shoulders, my heart, my thoughts. It pulled at my eyelids and pushed my head down to rest where my arms rested on the rail. I fought hard against it. I did my best to remain lucid, convinced I'd never see him again if I failed to keep vigil.

But gravity won. It pulled me under like a kraken, so deep I thought I'd never make it back. It was an odd experience, to be aware of the waking world while totally disconnected from it. I felt the cool air, smelled the fishy aroma of the river. I heard the crickets faintly chirping from somewhere more distant than they really were. But in my mind's eye, I went somewhere else. Somewhere new yet familiar.

A courtyard. I sat on a wooden swing, its white paint chipped away in splotches to reveal the gray wood beneath. Its chains were rusted. They creaked each time I moved. Where was I? Barren land stretched out before me, patches of dead grass barely covering the dry soil. Dust clouds rolled each time the hot wind blew, forming a layer of upset earth across a cobblestone path.

I'd seen it before, but I couldn't recall when. Perhaps it was an early memory of somewhere I'd been as a child. Something deep within me knew it hadn't always looked this way. That it had once been beautiful. That the fountain at its center hadn't always been empty. And the statue—a woman in a long dress holding a sword and a set of opened shackles—hadn't always been damaged, her concrete too rough, her features flaking away. She seemed to see right through me.

The swing rattled as someone took the seat beside me, and I looked over, gasping on a sob at Julia's warm smile.

"You aren't supposed to be out here," she said, her tone conspiratorial.

My eyes ran over her. It was Julia, but it wasn't. Her makeup was too muted, her hair too tamed. She was dressed in all white, so unlike her vivid colors. "Are you an angel now?" I breathed.

She snorted. "Hardly." She reached into her bag and pulled out the reddest apple I'd ever seen. "I don't think the tree will survive another season, but I made sure my favorite girl wasn't forgotten." She handed it to me, her smile bitter-sweet, her eyes full of resignation. "This is probably the last apple on Earth," she said. "Enjoy it. That's all any of us can do."

She guided it to my lips, and like DeJa'Vu, history repeated. The sweet taste mixed with the sour, and I broke apart, sobbing into her neck as she held me. I wanted to stay there. To never wake up. To be where she was until the world turned to ash.

But gentle hands smoothed over my spine, pulling me back to reality. I opened my eyes to find Croc crouched beside me. "I'm here," he whispered.

With a sob, I threw my arms around his neck, crushing him in an embrace that sent us both off balance. He fell backward then held me tight as I cried tears of joy, tears of pain, tears of loss, so many tears I was sure I'd end up like the statue from my dream: crumbling, disintegrating, destroyed by the elements.

Croc murmured low, soothing words beneath his breath, stroking my hair until I'd calmed. "We got the ship," he whispered. "And I need to show you something."

I lifted up to see his face, lined by stress and exhaustion. Then I looked around for the first time, my lips parting at the colossal vessel anchored in the center of the river. "You got the ship," I breathed, hardly believing my eyes. Perhaps I was still dreaming because it looked too mighty to be real.

Croc rose to his feet then helped me to mine. "The kids are still asleep. It won't take long."

I nodded, and I didn't question. His words reminded me of the night he'd threatened to take Danny's hand, when he'd shown me things about myself I hadn't known were there. And just like that night, I placed my faith in his hands and followed.