Page 158 of Ozzie

CT turns on the radio, and the rest of the drive, I’m lostin my thoughts. My thoughts of Willow. When I first saw her again, I will admit I got excited, thinking I might have my second chance. But she’s been so hesitant, claiming she needs time. Maybe I’ve changed, or once she saw me, she realized she lost the feelings she had. I’m not the same boy I used to be, that’s for sure.

We turn off the highway, following the signs to Pine Valley. As we drive down a two-lane country road, the rain picks up. CT turns the windshield wipers on full blast. It’s almost impossible to see at this point.

“We should pull over for a while,” I suggest.

“If we can find a place.”

He drives slowly for another mile as we look for a turnout, any turnout, but don’t find one. But we do find a sign that says, “road closed,” and it diverts us to the left.

“Wow, that road was open this morning,” CT says as he turns onto the new road.

He slams on the brakes. In front of us is a woman holding onto a walker, flagging us down. I roll down my window as CT moves forward slowly.

“Oh, please help me! I need to get my horse into the trailer. My son was going to help me, but he’s trapped in his development by flooded roads.”

CT pulls into the driveway. “Let’s help her, and then we’ll get back on the road.”

He parks, and I step out of his car into mud. The woman sloshes her walker through it and points to the barn. “My horse is in there, and I’ve got the trailer ready to go. We need to get him inside.”

CT pats her on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of it. What’s your horse’s name?”

“Buttons.”

“Come on,” CT says to me.

At this point, we’ve been standing outside for two minutes, and we are soaked. I follow him to the barn, where we find Buttons. Fortunately, the horse isn’t afraid of strangers, and we’re able to get him loaded into the trailer without any issues.

“Thank you so much!” the woman says. Then she moves toward her house.

I glance at the house and that’s when I spot the river on the backside. CT looks at me and frowns. He runs up to the woman. I follow. “Hey, shouldn’t you be driving out of here while you can?”

“I will as soon as I get my dogs. The water has never been this close to the house before,” she says. “I’m scared it’s going to keep coming. I can’t leave them here.” She continues to move toward the house.

“Let us help you. How many are there?” CT asks.

“Two!” she shouts.

It’s harder to hear anything as we keep moving closer to the house and to the river.

She opens the door and whistles. Two large dogs come bounding toward us, barking. CT grabs the collar of one and has a good grip on him. I reach for the collar of the second one, but I’m not braced well enough, and he drags me a foot, and then I go down in the mud. The dog runs away.

“Tiny! You get back here!” the woman yells.

The dog runs around the side of the house. I jump up and go after him. The dog is standing in the middle of the backyard with a stick in his mouth. His tail is wagging, which is a good sign.

“You want to play?” I say as I slowly walk toward him. As I get closer, he takes a step back. “Tiny, come here.” I get down on one knee.

The dog takes a step closer. Then another.

“Keep coming,” I coax him.

A crow squawks, catching his attention. It flies low and lands at the river’s edge. The dog drops the stick and runs to the bird. I chase after.

“No, Tiny, come here!” I command.

The dog dives for the bird, but the crow flies over the river to get away. To my horror, the dog jumps into the river after it. Tiny swims to the middle and must realize his mistake. The current is strong, and it takes him. He’s trying to swim against it but failing.

“Oh, please don’t let him go!”

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