Boondocks

Chapter 55: Found

WILLOW

After we found the tree, and it was decided we would go to the town, the Croc I'd fallen in love with returned to me. He was different, same as he was anytime he learned something new. But he wasn't broken like I'd thought. He was doting, attentive, and playful. Like the kids always managed to do, he'd bounced back, and his childlike excitement was infectious.

We were almost there—according to Croc. He stood at the front of the boat, leaning over the rail, and calling out directions as if he'd made the journey a thousand times. After seeing my dreams come to fruition, I couldn't help but believe him.

"There's a house around this bend!"

There was.

Merle's brows kept reaching for his hairline. "I thought you said he never left the swamp?"

"He saw it in a dream," I said.

"What a great place to get directions." Sarcasm dripped from each syllable.

It was meant to make me laugh, but I couldn't. Not knowing what I knew. I'd been reluctant to bring up my dreams of Julia. The mere mention of her name seemed to break the old man all over again.

"What is it?" Merle asked. He was staring at me, probably had been for a while, and he always read me too well. "Why do you suddenly look lower than a bow-legged caterpillar?"

I hesitated. If our roles were reversed, I would want to know. "I dreamed of the tree."

He sobered, searching my eyes, and the building silence was nearly too heavy to bear.

I took a slow breath. "I dreamed of her every night after we left, and each night, she'd hand me an apple and claim it was the last one on Earth. She said I should enjoy it. Then, she showed me a massive apple tree just like the one in her garden."

His Adam's apple bobbed. The muscle in his jaw twitched. He was trying his absolute best not to cry. He straightened and pulled a cigarette from the breast pocket of his leather vest, then a lighter from his jeans. Merle never smoked. He'd quit nearly a decade before. But he fired it up and took a long, deep drag. His exhale made him look like a dragon. "I never did ask you about that day," he finally said. His voice was raw and measured. "Did she. . .say anything. . .before?"

"Yes."

He cut his eyes over and took another drag. "What did she say?"

I sucked in a slow breath, steeling myself. Thoughts of that day haunted me like ghosts, and I did my best not to conjure them. Thinking about it reopened the wound; talking poured in the salt. "I should have taken her into the woods," I said. "But I wanted to go find the kids, and she stopped me."

"Courtney!"

I clenched my eyes shut. Would he want to know she'd been thinking of their daughter? "She confused me with—" I paused. I'd never even told him that I knew about her, and a person could only handle so much grief. Bringing her up felt like a step too far.

"Confused you with who?" Merle asked.

I opened my eyes, finding his. "Your daughter. She called me Courtney, then she handed me an apple, just like in my dream."

Merle frowned. "She called you Courtney?"

I nodded. "She told me about her a while back. I'm sorry I never said anything, it just felt like something I shouldn't bring up. She said I reminded her of her. I assume that's why—"

"Our daughter's name was LeAnne."

I blinked. No. That couldn't be right. "Then who is Courtney?"

"No idea." Merle shook his head. "Are you sure that's what she said?"