“Captain.”
“What?”
“His name is Captain. He likes you.”
There was something comforting about his heavy, warm head weighing down on me, something that made the ache in my chest just a little more tolerable. My hand rested on his head as I took a breath that shook my body.
“Who is going to believe me when I say I have no idea what happened to me?”
“Anyone who takes a look at you.” I could feel myself wince at those words, something that made his shoulders shrug. “Just being honest,” he added. “You’re not in great shape…”
“I saw that,” I agreed.
“Some of my coworkers are waiting outside town. Miller… she… she could go with you if you want. Or we could wait until a family member or friend got he…” he trailed off as my head shook.
I didn’t have any close family.
And the closest things I had to friends were coworkers I occasionally went out with. No one I would want in an exam room with my legs spread.
“Coworkers?” I asked instead of answering the question in his eyes.
“I work for someone in, ah, fuck. I always forget the technical term. Crisis management or some shit like that.”
“What do you do? From the middle of the Pine Barrens?” I added.
“People hide here when they need to disappear. Or have someone keep an eye on them, so they don’t get in any more trouble.”
“That makes sense,” I agreed even if it certainly didn’t. I mean, yeah, it made sense that they would hide out in the woods with him, but not why he was in the woods to begin with.
“You want to head out now, or you need a few?”
Closing my eyes, I forced back the twinge of tears that threatened.
I could break down later.
Now, I needed to get this over with.
“Now,” I told him, taking a sip of my coffee, looking for courage in it.
“What do you weigh?”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, only half out of my seat.
“Got no shoes. Mine won’t fit you. But you might be able to ride the donkey.”
“I’m sorry… ride a donkey? All the way out of the pine barrens?”
To that, I got a snort. Like I was the one being ridiculous. “To my truck. Then we will drive out.”
“One-forty,” I admitted, only a little reluctantly as we made our way to the door, Captain right there at my side. “But why don’t you park your truck closer to… oh,” I trailed off as we moved outside.
Aside from the space where the house was situated, and a giant fenced area to the side, all you could see everywhere was trees. The sun above seemed too cheery on such a day, like the world gave no care to what had happened here the night before, what was going on inside me right now.
I don’t know how long I stood there, blinking up at the blinding sky, but it must have been a while. Because then Ranger was there, a donkey and a trio of dogs at his side, arm extended to me.
“He’s friendly. Docile. You won’t fall off.” With that, he grabbed me with those giant baseball mitts he called hands, yanked me clean off my feet, and dropped me up on the saddle.
The ride was made in crushing silence, each clomp of hooves and shuffle of dried leaves across the forest floor just rattling my nerves all the more. So much so that I missed the monster of a truck looming in the distance, didn’t even notice we had come to a stop. I let out a low shriek when I felt hands touching me, looking down to find Ranger’s brows furrowed, a line between his brows that spoke of curiosity or concern – or both.
“Just me. Gonna help you down.”
“I, ah, I have it,” I told him, shaking my head, all too aware that the angle was optimal for him to get a complete eye full of my panty-less state. I knew better than to imagine he didn’t notice how I had carefully tucked the shirt upon getting into the saddle, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to see me do a shuffle that would hopefully spare my pride.
“Alright,” he agreed, shrugging, turning away.
My stomach pitched as I almost fell backward before righting myself then sliding downward, feeling a tongue lick up the side of my leg as I met the ground.
“No, Cap, you stay,” Ranger demanded to the dog who moved to follow us. “I said stay,” he added, voice firmer when the dog whined and moved to follow despite the order.
“What about the donkey?” I asked, following behind him, a little lost puppy in the big, bad woods.
“The dogs’ll lead him home.”
“Really?” I asked, tone dubious.
“Yep.”
Well, this Ranger guy wasn’t much of a talker. And as we started on the seemingly endless car ride, I had never before craved conversation as much as I did then, wanting some reprieve from the ugliness taking over my mind, darkening the whole world with it.