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The hill rose as always, at the highest point of the valley, and at its summit it was still there: the great oak, sturdy and ancient, and hanging from its strongest branch, the swing made from an old tire but incredibly well-preserved, as if time had decided to spare it when it had disregarded everything else.
There was Jessie, hugging her knees to her chest, alone, with her gaze lost in the sunset that painted the sky orange and violet. The sun was slowly setting, as if it too wanted to stop, but it couldn't. And she couldn't stop what had just happened either.
Once again. Once again the same pain, the same stab that split her chest in half. Another mistress to whom she had given herself completely, from whom she felt inseparable... and who had cast her aside. Before it was Emily, torn from her life by the natural passage of time. Now it was Bonnie, and it wasn't time, but technology that stole her place. For Lilypad something brighter, more modern... and Jessie, suddenly, seemed too old, too simple, too much herself.
"What did I do wrong?" she whispered to the wind, though she didn't expect an answer. Where do I go now?
Guilt weighed on her as heavily as sadness. She knew she hadn't treated others well: with Smarty Pants, with Atlas, with Snappy. She had unloaded all the pain she didn't know how to bear onto them, she had been harsh, unfair... and besides, she had left Bullseye behind. I didn't have the courage to go back to Emily's house, now Blaze's, and even less to return to Bonnie. She no longer felt like she belonged anywhere.
Fear coursed through her from head to toe.
Would she now be like Woody? A lost toy?
With Emily it was tough, yes, but at least then he only lost a girl. Now... now she was leaving much more. She left behind the friendship that supported her, the brotherhood that embraced her, and the love she never dared to fully express. Since Lilypad arrived in the room, she had shut herself off: she kept her distance, but pushed everyone away, especially Buzz. She wanted to face what she felt alone, to fight against the intruder without asking anyone for help... and now, truly alone, she realized it was a mistake.
She cried in silence, with her head resting on her knees.
If I had known it was the last time, I would have said everything I kept silent. I would have hugged each one and never let them go.
She thought of Buzz: his calm smile, how he always listened to her, the times he held her when she felt like she was falling. And now she didn't know if she would see him again, if she would tell him how much he meant to her, if she would have the chance to tell him that she loved him more than words could explain.
The sound of galloping hooves broke the silence and pulled her out of her thoughts. Bullseye was running, running like the wind, and in an instant, he leaped onto her, enveloping her with all his affection. Even though she had left him behind, he had traveled the entire way to her without a reproach, without any resentment, only with the desire not to lose her.
Jessie hugged him tightly, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. "You shouldn't have followed me," she said, her voice choked, a mix of immense joy and deep melancholy.
Bullseye just snorted softly, rubbing his head against hers, making it clear: he wasn't going to leave. Not without her.
"Go with Blaze," she insisted, stroking his mane. There you'll be better..."
The horse snorted again, firm, and sat in front of her, with a fixed gaze, determined to stay by her side, no matter what. Jessie tried to insist, but stopped short; she was about to be cruel again, and she couldn't, not with him.
"I couldn't anymore," she confessed, clenching her fists, not daring to look at him. "I can't love another child again just to be abandoned once more..." —she swallowed hard, holding back the pain that threatened to overflow—. I can't...
She fell silent then, closed her eyes, and remained still, feeling small, broken, defeated.
She didn't know how much time passed in silence: maybe a second, maybe two, or perhaps an eternity. But then, the wind brought her voices, voices she would have never expected to hear in that place.
Jessie lifted her head, confused, thinking that maybe it was just her imagination, a dream brought on by loneliness. But no. There they were, in front of her: Woody and Buzz. Both of them looked at her with a concern that made her feel naked inside, as if they knew exactly everything she carried in her heart. She didn't know how long they had been there, but they knew her well enough to understand, without the need for words, why she was like this.
A small and trembling smile escaped her as she saw them arrive accompanied by two horses from Blaze's room. And her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Buzz riding that unicorn with shimmering wings: the scene reminded her with a tender and sweet pang of that time when Andy and Bonnie rode him on Buttercup, when Andy played with them for the last time.
The three ran to meet each other, and in an instant, they formed a single embrace, none wanting to let go of the other for even a second. The worry that had gnawed at them since the previous day weighed so heavily that now, being close to each other, it felt like breathing again. Bullseye settled between them, surrounding them as well, and suddenly the moment, while still sad, became warm, filled with a love that held everything together.
Buzz took her hand immediately, looking at her with those eyes that always saw her just as she was. "Are you okay, Jessie?" he asked her in a soft voice, but full of tenderness.
Jessie searched for the words and couldn't quite find them. She still didn't quite understand what they were doing there, nor how much they knew about everything that had happened. "I'll be fine," she replied, although her own voice sounded uncertain.
Woody looked at her with that gaze that knew everything, that wasn't easily deceived. "Are you sure?" he asked gently.
Jessie looked down, head bowed, and nodded, although inside everything was still in turmoil. "Yes," she said, without much conviction.
Buzz couldn't keep what they had seen to himself, and his words came out carefully, as if he didn't want to hurt her any more. "Jessie... we saw when Bonnie gave it to you."
She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide open, as if she hadn't heard correctly. "Really?" she whispered, incredulous.
—I really don't understand it. —said Woody, stepping a little closer with both hands holding his belt thoughtfully—. Because she was really worried about you. When she realized you weren't there...
Jessie fell silent, her heart spinning between pain and confusion. She looked again at the tire swing, where everything seemed to come to a halt, and said with a broken voice:
"I never thought I would be back here... and even less in this situation."
Suddenly, everything I thought I had clear vanished. Had Bonnie missed her? Had he tried to win her back? What changed in her heart? There were no certain answers, not even Woody or Buzz knew what to say to calm her down, they just stayed by her side, accompanying her in the midst of uncertainty, because the only thing they knew for sure was that they weren't going to leave her alone.
No one noticed that, while they remained immersed in the silence of doubt, Bullseye had moved a little beyond the place where Jessie had stopped upon arriving, that spot where she had barely set foot after riding Bullseye without looking back. Suddenly, the horse neighed loudly, calling them, and there was something in its sound that left them uneasy.
"What's wrong, friend?" asked Jessie, the first to approach.
And as soon as she saw what was in front of the oak, she was left breathless. Right in the center of the trunk, a mark carved into the wood that he had never seen before: "Jessie was here," and below, an arrow pointing to the ground, right to the corner that had always been hers.
"I never put that there," she whispered, confused. She fell silent for a moment, and then her voice came out soft, almost a whisper—. It must have been... Emily.
Woody, Buzz, and she looked at each other, sharing the same perplexity. Bullseye positioned himself right below the mark, in that corner where Emily would let her rest when she went up to the swing alone, or when they would sit together to talk about everything and nothing. Then a faint metallic sound was heard. Something was buried there. Bullseye started to dig through the dirt with his hooves, and the three knelt down to help unearth it, while Blaze and Daffodil's horses waited aside.
Little by little, something began to appear: an old lunchbox, with faded red and yellow colors worn by time. Together, they took it out completely and opened it. And what they saw left them even more confused.
Inside, there were no things from when Emily was little. There was a green and blue cassette with a printed bee, titled "Silly Stories"; a pair of pink sunglasses; a birthday card with a drawing of a puppy; an orange bubble bottle with a star-shaped cap; a red handkerchief; a yellow hair tie... and other items that didn't fit that era.
"It doesn't make sense," said Jessie, scanning everything. When Emily was a child, these things didn't exist like this... She must have left this much later, when she was already grown up.
Her hands trembled as she took the birthday card, which seemed so harmless... and upon seeing what was inside, she froze. It was a snapshot: Emily, now a woman, with the same freckles on her cheeks, the same red hair she kept short as she grew up. Jessie gently caressed the photograph of Emily's side, feeling all the years she missed with her first girl. And in her arms, a little girl with blonde hair and greenish eyes identical to hers. The girl was wearing that yellow headband, and Emily was kissing her on the forehead with all the love in the world.
Jessie didn't look at Woody or Buzz. She turned the card over and read, with her heart beating so hard that it almost made her unable to breathe, the most beautiful yet most painful words she would ever read:
"Jessie, you will always be my little cowgirl." Mom.
Jessie dropped to her knees on the grass, and instantly Bullseye sat beside her, pressing his side against hers, in that silent gesture that always held her up. Woody and Buzz stayed close, looking at her with a tenderness that mingled with emotion, without saying anything, giving her all the space in the world for her words to come out on their own. "—Emily... she named her daughter... my name —she whispered, barely touching the ground with her knees, her voice breaking between disbelief and a joy that filled her eyes with tears—." Can you believe it?
Bullseye snorted softly and nodded; Bullseye moved his ears in agreement; and Buzz, with that warm and steady gaze, nodded too, all at the same time, as if each of their hearts beat in sync with hers.
"I... still can't believe it," Jessie repeated, stroking the edge of the card with trembling fingers. It seems impossible...
"It's perfectly possible," said Buzz, moving a little closer, feeling Jessie rest her head on his shoulder. No one could ever forget you, Jessie...
Woody nodded with a gentle smile, full of understanding. —She never forgot you —he added—. You were much more important to her than she let on. It's the most beautiful thing anyone could have done.
Jessie looked at the photograph again, at the girl who bore her name, and suddenly understood everything she had been unable to comprehend for years: she was not forgotten. She was loved so much that her name continued to live on, flourishing in the life of the girl whom Emily now raised with all her love.