Jolie—aged eighteen
Bonny’s hutch was solid and pine. All nails tucked out of reach from the happy little bunny resting comfortably in her home. . . well, she was, until her little creature senses alerted her to Woodrow's presence.
Woodrow surprised me when I first met him, and he continued to do so now, sitting in the dirt, a hungry bunny feeding on lettuce leaves, happily bouncing around his lap, her big black eyes so full of glee.
The sun dropped down between a break in the leafy trees, down onto the miniature mansion he'd erected for his wild friend, who was always calm, if not for her excitement whenever he was around.
I looked around, seeing nothing but trees for miles. We were deep in the forestry, and morning shadows were darkening the space.
I lowered to a squat, taking a chunk of carrot, and offering it to Bonny. Her trust in me wasn't as strong, and I found myself subject to a good twenty seconds of sniffing before she accepted my donative.
“I don't think she likes me.”
“She's a little wary.” Woodrow laughed. “I’ll be back to see you tonight, little darlin'.”
“You’re taking her back to the house again?”
“She brings me peace.” He smiled up at me from his low position as my hands on my knees, pushed me to my feet. My legs felt no strain from the squat, if anything, they begged for another. For more. For mymorning run, that hadn't happened this morning. . . or any morning these past few days.
Woodrow handed the rest of the salad leaves, all a dark shade of green—fitting with the house we'd shortly be making our way back to—into the bunny's hutch.
He stood, shooing her in behind them, and watched as she happily trotted away from him. Content with her safety, he asked me, “Are you happy to head back?”
“I can't believe you came to see the bunny without me.” Nessie's foot was in her hand, dirt from the soil blooming her palm, as she brushed away the splinters of twigs.
“You were asleep; we didn't want to wake you.” I rubbed a hand through her blonde tresses, careful of any knots I'd missed while brushing her hair for bed.
“Did you eat your breakfast?” Woodrow's eyes examined the sticky mess that she was now licking from her lips.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“You're welcome, baby. You want a ride back?” He careened, allowing her to climb onto his back.
Grubby hands around his shoulders and legs wrapping around his waist confirmed she wanted the ride.
I smiled over the softer moment between them.
“Remember. . .”
“I know, I'll be careful with your throat.”
Nessie spun her head to see Bonny, still in a place of complacency, located in her wooden home.
“Will Bonny be okay out here alone?”
“She’ll be fine. Daddy can’t know, Ness,remember?”
“I won’t tell him or Momma.” Nessie's tone hushed as we began the thousands of steps back toward the house, following my lead. “I haven't seen much of Momma. Is she okay?”
“She's healing; it can take time.”
“It hurts my heart that she doesn't want me around her.”
I stopped from my lead, turning back to the siblings, who for once, looked alike as they shared an expression of pain.
“She will, in time,” Woodrow whispered, guiding Nessie’s hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on her knuckles, carefully avoiding a mouthful of dirt. “Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes fluttering to me.
I could only nod as I stood feeling all their pain.
