I nod, pulling in a deep breath. “I just don’t know how to find that courage.”
“Hm,” he hums. “Pretty sure that comes from the heart.”
I turn to look at him, and the corner of his lips tilts up in a soft smile.
“Only you can find that.”
I wipe my cheeks again, my tears now slowing as I hold on to the image of Redwave in my head, and to Levi’s voice.
“You’re pretty wise for a fly fisher,” I say.
He lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “I’m not the fly fisher, trust me. But I’ll take the wise part.”
I give him a smile, and he returns it.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He pushes off the fence and gives me a nod before turning to head towards his truck.
“Have fun flicking a stick around,” I call after him.
He turns, walking backwards a few steps with a smile as he points at me. “I knew I liked you.”
Then he climbs into his truck and takes off down the road.
I watch until he disappears from view, then draw in a slow breath and make my way across the street to my own truck.
Redwave stays with me as I drive home, and Levi’s voice continues to repeat his words.
He didn’t take his heart.
He gains his power back by refusing to break.
By the time I pull up to my cabin and park next to my old truck, I know what I have to do. I know I need to find my courage… and I know where I need to look for it.
My pulse thunders as I make my way through the clearing in the trees and onto the hollow heart field. The hot July sun beats down on me as I walk towards the middle of the field, and the rows stretch out in front of me, now dense with growth as the plants’ broad leaves overlap and brush against my legs. The canopy has closed across most of the field in a thick, deep green, which makes my heart beat harder every time I look at it. Because it all points to strong development, consistency, and to everything moving the way it should beneath the surface.
When I reach the middle zone, I stop and look down at the plants in front of me. Then I crouch down and push aside the leaves to expose the base of one of the plants. My fingers sink into the soil, and I work them carefully around the stem to loosen the earth before gripping near the base and pulling the plant free.
The roots come up intact with a cluster of developing tubers attached. The skin is pale and thin, as it should be at this stage, and my heart pounds as I brush one clean with my thumb.
It looks just like it should.
But it’s what’s inside that matters.
In its heart.
I reach into my pocket to pull out my knife and flip the blade open.
My eyes close for a moment as I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for whatever I’m about to find.
But whatever is here… is here.
So I open my eyes and slice the potato in half.
The two halves sit in my hand as I stare down at them, and my entire body stills as my mind finally settles.
