Ch. 53 – Willow
O ne, two, three, four.
Willow touched her thumbs to the tips of each finger and silently counted in her head.
One, two, three, four.
All day she’d felt iron bands wrapped around her chest. Hour by hour, the bands squeezed tighter.
One, two, three, four.
Willow tried to ignore the iron bands. She picked at a loose fiber on the arm of her camping chair. Next to her, Jax giggled as Rico fed her a cracker piled with peanut butter. Willow watched how Jax leaned into Rico, how he used his thumb to brush crumbs off her chin.
Willow shivered. No one had ever touched her like that. And no one ever would. Well, not unless she dosed them with a Philter of Love potion.
“Are you doing okay?”
Willow started at the soft question and turned to her right. Tess had taken the chair next to hers and gazed at her with sincere hazel eyes.
One, two, three, four.
“Yes,” Willow made herself say. “Just a little nervous.”
“You’ll do fine,” Tess assured her. “We all know you’ve only had a few weeks to train. Just walk when you need to. No one cares about our time.”
Willow nodded and tried to give Tess a reassuring smile as if, yes, she had simply been nervous about their finishing time. As if she hadn’t spent the last week battling unending, terrifyingly vivid, intrusive thoughts about everything that could go wrong today.
That would be the obsessive part of obsessive compulsive disorder.
One, two, three, four.
Willow closed her eyes and imagined drinking a Potion of Heroism. The blue, bubbling liquid tingled as it slid down her throat and hit warm in her stomach. Her body buzzed with its power. The warmth grew hotter and hotter, filling her body with energy and power as it burned away her fears.
It helped… a little.
“I think I see them,” Sully said, rising from his seat.
“WHOOO!” Tess cried, craning her neck.
Willow stepped out of the pop-up and looked down the path. She saw them, Layla’s lithe form bouncing up and down, Everly’s taller, rounder frame plowing forward.
“ALMOST THERE!” Jax shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth.
“USE YOUR CRAZY CAT LADY POWERS!” Alanna hollered.
Tess cocked an eyebrow. “Crazy cat lady powers?”
Alanna shrugged. “Why can’t we have crazy cat lady powers?”
Willow smiled softly to herself. If Alanna were a monk, perhaps she could cast Cat’s Grace, which would give Layla and Everly enhanced agility and reflexes. But that was silly. Alanna could never be a monk. No, she was so clearly a warrior—strong, beautiful, and fearless.
The women continued to cheer, Alanna throwing out a loud catcall as Layla and Everly jogged through the staging area and under the start banner, which also served as the finish banner. As soon as they cleared the banner, Everly staggered to the CCLC pop-up and dramatically dropped to the ground, flinging her arms and legs out wide, starfish style.
The Crazy Cat Ladies gathered around her.
“Uh, Everly, hon, you okay?” Alanna asked.
“Is she dead?” Rico hissed. “Did you all murder Everly?”
“Stop it. She’s not dead.” Jax elbowed Rico. “But, um, Tess, maybe you should check her pulse, just in case.”
Everly’s eyes popped open. “FUCK YEAH!!! I DID IT!!!”
She thrust her fisted hands straight up into the air. The Crazy Cat Ladies burst out laughing.
“Fuck yeah you did!” Jax dropped on top of Everly. “Ooooh, you’re so sweaty!”
“Coming in.” Alanna draped herself across Jax.
“Me too!” Tess added herself to the pile, and Layla followed.
The women rolled around, giggling.
“Holy Jesus, I had this exact dream last week,” Rico said to Sully. “Though fewer sweatbands and more bikinis.” He scratched his chin. “And for some reason, Kevin Bacon was in the pile, too. I really don’t want to explore that.”
Willow looked longingly at the tangle of women. She wanted to throw herself on top of the pile more than anything in the entire world. But she couldn’t. What if she accidentally scratched Jax in the eye? What if she kneed Tess in the head? What if their combined weight suffocated Everly at the bottom of the pile?
The Potion of Heroism was wearing off, and the iron bands wrenched so tight Willow could almost hear her ribs creak with the pressure.
After a few more seconds, the women disentangled themselves.
Layla dropped into a camping chair. Sweat darkened her hair, and her eyes looked a little sunken. Dirt caked her shoes, socks, and shins. She unbuckled her water pack, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes.
“How ya feeling?” Alanna asked her sister as she handed Layla a banana.
“Pretty good,” Layla responded without opening her eyes. “I’m going to put more Vaseline on my feet and change my socks.”
“And you definitely need more sunscreen,” Tess added.
“Yes, more sunscreen,” Willow whispered. She’d reapplied her sunscreen every hour, putting on two layers each time to make sure.
“I’m never…. ever…. moving again,” Everly stated from her position on the ground just outside the pop-up. “From now on…one of y’all…will have to…cart me around…in a wheelbarrow.”
“Oh, shucks, I already signed us up for a 100-mile relay next month,” Tess told her.
Everly waved two middle fingers at Tess.
Before Willow could even say Baldur’s Gate, Layla was ready to go. She’d eaten a banana, changed her socks, and shouldered her refilled water pack. Now, she stood from her chair and gave Willow a warm smile.
“Ready?”
No. Willow thought. I’d rather take a double-bladed scimitar to the spleen.
“Yes,” she said out loud. “But you don’t have to stay with me. I’ll probably have to walk most of it.”
“Well, let’s at least try and run the first mile together, okay?” Layla suggested.
Willow nodded and snapped on the water belt Layla had lent her.
One, two, three, four.
Willow touched each of her fingers with her thumbs as she counted in her head. It was her secret spell. She loved the number four. Four points made a perfect square. A box where she could be safe.
A hand touched her shoulder. She started and turned to see Jax next to her.
“You can do this,” Jax said, her golden-brown eyes intense. “You’re so much stronger than you know.”
Willow suddenly wanted to cry. Over the past few months, she’d come to love and admire her roommate. Jax was so fun, smart, and confident. Secretly, Willow considered Jax to be her best friend, though she was sure Jax didn’t feel the same.
“You got this,” Jax said. “And if you get stressed, try this.” She reached into the side pocket of her athletic pants and pulled out a lemon-flavored lollipop. “Always helps me.”
Willow smiled and took the lollipop. “Thank you.”
Jax pulled her into a quick hug that surprised and delighted Willow.
“Go get ‘em, Willow!” Alanna said.
“Yay, Willow!” Tess hollered.
“Crush it, girl!” Everly called from the ground.
Layla gave her another bright smile. “Let’s go.”
*
The early afternoon had grown hot, and the sun beat down on Willow’s shoulders as she and Layla ran on the dusty trail.
Dehydration, Willow thought. Heat stroke. Third-degree sunburn. Melanoma.
She forced her breath to stay even. It was all in her head, she knew. It was always in her head. By her side, Layla kept her expression stoic, but her gait didn’t seem as loose and easy as it had when she’d left for her previous lap.
Was Layla struggling? What if she had one of those rare heart defects and died instantaneously right here on the trail?
A soft jingle sounded distantly behind them.
“That’s a bike. We need to move over to the right,” Layla said, her voice breathy.
Willow all but leaped off the trail.
“We don’t need to stop,” Layla said, pausing beside her. “The cyclist will see us and go around.”
Willow shook her head. Tortured, twisted images filled her head. What if the cyclist ran into Layla? What if the collision broke Layla’s leg or her spine? What if the cyclist fell off the bike and cracked their skull on the ground? Willow could see it so clearly. The spinning tires. Layla’s cry of pain. The cyclist’s body hurtling through the air. The crack of bone against rock.
No, it wasn’t worth the risk.
“I just… I’d rather stop,” Willow said, her voice a squeak of fear.
One…two...three…four.
Layla frowned in confusion but nodded. “Okay, of course.”
They stood off the path.
The iron bands of fear tightened across her chest. Willow could hardly breathe. Were they far enough off the path? Could the cyclists still accidentally swerve into them? Willow spotted a rock a few feet down the path. What if the cyclist was distracted by them and hit the rock?
Again, images of a body tumbling through the air flashed through Willow’s mind. She envisioned a knee wrenching the wrong way, bone splintering out of skin, blood coughed onto pale lips due to a punctured lung.
Willow’s panic always had claws. It gripped her esophagus, tearing through the fine tissue, blocking any air from filling her lungs.
Willow closed her eyes.
You are not Willow, she told herself fiercely. You are Sora.
She imagined her body shifting, growing taller and stronger as she morphed into the half-human, half-elf ranger she played in Dungeons and Dragons. Willow’s white tank and navy leggings disappeared, replaced by tight leathers and an emerald green robe. Her long, dark ponytail shimmered into flowing purple locks woven with silver beads.
On her back, Willow felt the weight of Sora’s elven bow and a quiver full of arrows. She touched her hip, imagining her short sword secured in its sheath. On her finger, she wore her favorite artifact, The Ring of Stars.
Sora was brave and cunning. She was disciplined but willing to take risks when necessary. In other words, Sora was everything Willow was not.
Sora would not be afraid of a cyclist. She would not be afraid of rocks.
“Are you okay?” Layla asked. “You’re breathing a little hard.”
“Better,” Willow replied.
Ten seconds later, two cyclists on knobby-tired mountain bikes flew past, kicking up dust in their wake.
“Okay, we can run again,” Willow judged when the cyclists were nearly out of sight.
Layla didn’t say anything as they both stepped back onto the path and began jogging again. After a minute, she cleared her throat.
“Willow, I’m really curious. What is your OCD like? Do you feel comfortable talking about it?”
No!
Her Sora persona wavered and then she was Willow again.
Willow the weakling.
Willow the headcase.
Her mother had always dismissed her increasingly elaborate and intense fears. The gremlins, as her mother called them, were silly. Illusions. Willow was forever overreacting. Just trying to get attention, her mother told teachers and dance instructors.
Her mother forbade her from mentioning the gremlins in public. Had punished her whenever she’d performed her protective spell.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to,” Layla said quickly. “I’m sorry if I’m being nosy. I was just hoping to understand you better.”
Willow looked at Layla. Could that be true? Or was Layla mocking her, curious to see what a freak she was?
Layla smiled warmly.
No, of course, Layla wasn’t making fun of her. Layla was the kindest person in the world.
Willow pulled in a deep breath and thought about how to describe her condition. The analogy came easily. “OCD is a prison,” she explained. “A prison inside your own head. Your brain constantly sends you terrible thoughts and images, and you can never turn them off. You feel afraid all the time.”
She let out a breath. “All the time,” she repeated.
“Oh, no,” Layla murmured. “I remember at my bachelorette…I mean, my liberation party, you said you were afraid of hurting people.”
Willow smiled. “OCD works in different ways for different people. Fear of contamination and compulsive cleanliness are common. Some people can’t throw things out. Others need everything to be in balance. Like you said, for me, I’m afraid of people getting hurt or that I’ll cause an injury.”
Layla’s brow crinkled. “What is that like?”
Willow took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Okay, so for example, right now, I’m imagining you stepping on a snake and getting bitten. I can hear the snake hiss. I can see it wriggling out from the grass on the side of the trail. I imagine its fangs sinking into your leg. I can see your leg swelling, your lips turning blue as you choke to death and your throat closes.”
“Oh,” Layla murmured.
Willow wasn’t done. “At the same time, I’m also terrified that I’ll step on a snake and hurt it. I can feel my shoe crushing its body. I worry about every rock on the trail, about a tree branch suddenly breaking overhead.” Willow pointed as they passed under a large Sycamore tree.
“I’m afraid of mountain lions, tree roots, coyotes, raccoons.”
“Racoons?” Layla repeated.
“Rabies.”
“Ah.” Layla looked sad. “That sounds overwhelming. Willow, I’m so sorry you have to deal with all that.”
Willow looked down at her dusty running shoes as a wave of gratitude crashed through her. Layla hadn’t derided or dismissed her. Hadn’t told her to just “get over it.” Instead, Layla had validated her feelings. Of course, she had. Layla was beautiful, graceful, and full of wisdom. She had always reminded Willow of an elf cleric.
“I’m, uh, getting help,” Willow said, suddenly wanting to share more. “My dad encouraged me to start therapy two years ago.” With the assistance of Dr. Richards and ERP, Exposure and Response Prevention Therapy , Willow had slowly been pushing back against her suffocating fears and regaining access to the wider world.
“That’s wonderful!” Layla gushed. “I’m so proud of you. It takes courage to work on yourself. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help or support you.”
Willow smiled shyly. If only Layla could know how much she and the other Crazy Cat Ladies had already done for her. It’d taken all of Willow’s strength to attend that very first meeting earlier this year. The women had been loud, opinionated, and terrifying. But they’d also, incredibly, unbelievably, accepted her. They didn’t seem to care about her weird mannerisms and behavior. They didn’t get angry or frustrated by her fears.
Willow had never even had a single friend before the Crazy Cat Ladies, and now she had five. Five good friends, and even a secret best friend, though she’d never admit such a silly thing to Jax.
A noise dinged on Layla’s watch. She looked down, and a bright smile lit her face. “Well, look at that. We’re done with your first mile. How do you feel?”
Amazement tingled through Willow. A whole mile? Her legs felt a little heavy but still strong. “I feel good,” she said.
“Want to keep running?”
“Yes.” Willow matched Layla’s smile. “At least for a little while.”
Sweat trickled down her back. The muscles of her legs burned, but it was a good, familiar feeling. A feeling she deeply missed. Once upon a time, her legs had burned like this after hours of repeating arabesques, manèges, and fouettés at the Pirouette Dance Studio.
But that had been a lifetime ago.
At Willow’s side, Layla’s breath was turning more ragged, and her steps seemed to be getting heavier.
Heat stroke. Dehydration. Unknown heart defect.
Willow pushed away the intrusive thoughts. Maybe they could both use a distraction.
“Are you going to miss the vet clinic?” she asked.
Layla’s eyes grew sad. “Yes. It’s been my second home since I was 16, but I had to go. It’s time for me to move on.”
Willow nodded. She understood. It’d taken nearly all her willpower to finally move out of her parents’ home and strike out on her own a few months ago. A part of her still couldn’t believe she’d managed to rent her own apartment…well, with the help of her roommate, Jax, of course.
“There’s a cat I’m really going to miss at the clinic,” Layla continued. “His name is Sunny. He’s shy but so sweet. He was a stray who was hit by a car.”
“Oh no!” Willow gasped. Hitting an animal was one of her many worst fears and a prime reason she didn’t drive.
“He was banged up pretty bad,” Layla acknowledged. “Dr. Goldman had to perform emergency surgery to repair his spine and even had to remove a part of Sunny’s tail.”
Queasiness hit Willow’s stomach.
“We weren’t sure if Sunny was going to make it, but he pulled through,” Layla continued. “Afterward, Prem… uh, I mean, Dr. Dhawan and I worked with Sunny for months. He couldn’t walk at first, but he’s gotten stronger. You should have seen it, Willow. Now Sunny can walk and play. And he’s become so loving and warm. He’s such a warrior.”
Warrior. The word echoed in Willow’s mind. Sunny was a warrior, just like Sora.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Willow asked.
Layla shrugged. “Now that Sunny’s ready to be adopted, I suppose Dr. Dhawan will drop him off at the Yucca Hills Animal Rescue. It’s a shame, though.” She sighed. “Sunny needs a very special guardian. Someone who will give him lots of attention and love, who can continue his physical therapy.”
Willow felt Sora’s spirit awaken inside her. The half-elf warrior set her eyes on a new mission. Suddenly, Willow didn’t feel the stitch in her side or her aching lungs anymore.
“What if…” Willow paused. Doubts flooded her mind. She was broken. Crazy. She couldn’t care for herself, much less an animal.
No, Sora’s voice told her. You are strong. And your friends will help. If you can run this race, you can rescue a fellow warrior in need.
“What if I adopted Sunny?” Willow asked softly.
Layla’s eyes brightened. “I think that would be a wonderful idea, Willow! In fact, you are just the type of person Sunny needs. Someone dedicated, patient, and kind.”
Willow smiled as energy coursed through her. The idea of caring for a cat was scarier than facing a Mind Flayer Lich, but it also felt right. Sunny needed her. Willow (and Sora) wouldn’t let him down!
Layla’s watch dinged. “That’s two miles,” she sang.
“Really?” Willow asked in astonishment. Where had that last mile gone? It felt like they’d finished the first mile only a few seconds ago. Yet, now that Willow focused on her body, she felt aches growing in her legs and the sharp claws of a stitch opening in her side.
“I, uh, think I need to walk,” Willow confessed.
“Okay, sure. That’s no problem.” Layla slowed beside her.
“This is the farthest I’ve ever run,” Willow admitted.
“You. Are. Wonderful!” Layla gushed.
Willow looked at the other woman. “Do you really think I’d be a good guardian for Sunny even though…” her voice dropped. “Even though I’m crazy?”
“Willow.” Layla’s whole face changed, the usual brightness chased away by a dark cloud. Her blue eyes grew hard. “Don’t ever say or think that about yourself. You are NOT crazy. You have a disease. It’s part of who you are, but it doesn’t define you.”
Waves of discomfort crashed inside Willow. She suddenly felt like she was drowning in the River of Knives.
“Sunny will be lucky to have you,” Layla insisted.
A tear trickled down Willow’s cheek. “Okay,” she whispered.
Before she knew it, Layla pulled her into her arms. “I love you, Willow. We all do,” Layla whispered in her ear. “You know that, right?”
Willow nodded because that’s what Layla wanted. But it couldn’t be true. No one could love someone as broken and damaged as her.
“You should keep running,” Willow managed to whisper. “I don’t want to slow you down.”
“No, this is fine,” Layla answered immediately. “I don’t mind walking with you. In fact, I appreciate the rest.”
But Willow had noticed Layla glance at her watch when they’d started to walk.
“I want you to go ahead,” Willow said, making an effort to add more volume to her voice just as she and Dr. Richards had practiced. “Please. I’ll be okay on my own, I promise.”
Layla looked uncertain.
“I want you to do your best,” Willow pushed her.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Layla said, still looking doubtful.
“Go,” Willow told her.
Layla gave her one more quick hug, then began to jog ahead. Willow watched Layla’s short ponytail bob as she grew smaller in the distance.
Loved.
Could Layla have been right? Could Willow really be loved?
It just seemed so…impossible.