November 2010 PonyCare - Minis in a Storm, Part 1
By Margaret Evans
Click here to download the Minis in a Storm, Part 1 word search.
Penny jumped visibly as the wind roared like a freight train across the field, slammed debris against the side of the barn, and whistled through tiny cracks and vents. Anita’s stomach was knotted with anxiety. She stroked Penny’s neck, trying to reassure both of them. Faintly, she thought she heard Matt’s voice yelling…
“Good job we got the roof repaired in the fall,” said Mom as they sat down for supper. On TV there had been a weather update about a storm on the way.
“What about the barn, did you get enough done?” Anita knew Dad hadn’t done everything he had wanted during the summer.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Too late now anyway,” said Matt, gobbling up baked salmon.
Anita shot him a look of scorn. “I hope you remembered to put your bike away, like Dad said.”
Matt scowled, knowing he hadn’t. “D’you put away your jumps and cones?”
Anita made a face, then hid a smirk. “Gotcha.”
“Get it done,” Dad ordered as he ate quickly. “I’ve got to give Pete a hand tonight putting away his garden implements so they don’t get buried in snow.”
“If he’s stuck for space, put them in our barn,” urged Mom. They were all really fond of their elderly neighbour Pete Poole, who lived alone and grew an amazing garden every year despite his arthritis. The kids had adopted him as Uncle Pete.
Anita loved winter, but not the storms. Snow was fun but it came with the hazards of ice, frozen water, and winds threatening to bring down trees and power lines. As she stacked cones, poles, and standards by the barn, she knew Penny was safe. They had plenty of hay in the attic, Mom had stocked up on bedding and grain, and Penny’s blankets had all been repaired and cleaned. Dad had checked the water lines and they had a space heater in the tack room. Anita had filled an emergency container of water for Penny in case the power went out and the water pump couldn’t run. She kept the container in the tack room where it wouldn’t freeze over. But for all the preparations, Anita knew that storms could be unpredictable. Something serious always happened.
“Hey Jill! Sugar okay?” Anita asked her friend on the phone later.
“She’s blanketed in the barn with lots of hay. Mom’s more worried about the garden shed.”
“My parents are worried about stuff too,” Anita confided.
“That’s what Sandie said as well,” agreed Jill. “She called. Fanny’s lame.”
“How come?”
“Sandie thinks it’s a stone bruise.”
“Not surprising. The ground’s been so hard. At least with this storm Fanny can rest in the barn with the other mules.”
“Sandie’s soaking her foot with warm water and Epsom salts.”
“That’ll help.”
Just as Anita was thinking that now was not the time for vet calls, Dad returned from Pete’s house with a frown on his face.
“Pete’s not looking so good.”
Mom glanced at him sharply. “What d’you mean?”
Dad shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe he’s caught a bug…”
“He should stay with us tonight.”
“You know Pete,” grimaced Dad. Pete was supremely independent. “I told him to call if he needs anything. But he was worried as he hadn’t heard from George and Josey. He wanted to stay by the phone.”
“They’ll be doing what we’re all doing,” said Mom. “They’ll be checking their minis.” George and Josey Vanier were an elderly couple who lived a mile down the road and whose lives centered around their Miniature horses. “With George’s heart condition and Josey’s diabetes, they’ve got enough to handle without anxieties about minis in a storm.”
The storm hit hard mid evening, rapidly piling thick, heavy snow in layers and mounting drifts. Branches splintered explosively and the screaming wind seemed to make the house shudder on its foundation. Squirt, their black lab, quivered as he hid under the kitchen table. Tiddles the cat was nowhere to be seen, but Matt knew she was in the house somewhere. Dad stoked up the woodstove and threw another log in just as the power went out. The sudden blackness was absolute. Dad threw on a jacket to go outside and fire up the generator while Anita and Matt grabbed flashlights.
“I’m going to check Penny,” Anita announced.
“No, you’re not,” growled Dad.
“I’ll go with her,” assured Mom, “It won’t hurt to check the barn.”
“Straight there, straight back,” said Dad. “Matt, give me a hand here.”
Penny’s nicker was quick and urgent when Anita and Mom squeezed through the door and slammed it shut to keep the snow from flying in. The old barn creaked and moaned and they shone flashlights at the ceiling as they heard a branch drop and roll off the roof. Anita squelched a sense of foreboding.
She topped up Penny’s hay and water. As another gust gathered momentum, fear jumped in her throat and Penny paused, her muscles tense, quivering.
“Penny could use company,” said Anita. “I hate leaving her alone.”
“I know,” Mom tried to be reassuring. “C’mon. We’d better get back.”
Penny’s ears pricked. She swiveled, looking in the direction of the house. Anita thought she heard Matt’s voice yelling. She paused, then glanced at Mom who seemed to pale in the torchlight. They rushed back to the house, bent almost double in the wind.
“Betsy!” Dad’s voice was sharper, stronger.
They were almost at the kitchen door before they saw his outline. Beside him, Matt’s pale face told them something was wrong.
“Pete called,” he said. “He’s got a fever. We’re going to get him.”
“I’ll warm up some soup on the woodstove,” said Mom. “Anita, make up the bed in the spare room.”
Dad and Matt disappeared in a swirl of snow as Mom pulled food from the fridge and Anita rushed downstairs. The extension phone rang. She grabbed it.
“Anita?” A voice. Frail. Fearful. “Is that you?”
Anita froze. Then she blurted, “Yes?”
“It’s Josey. Josey Vanier…” Her voice caught in a sob. “The barn collapsed. George is trapped. He’s hurt. I can’t reach Pete… The minis…”
Anita was racing upstairs clutching the phone and yelling for Mom.
“It’s Josey! There’s been…”
Mom grabbed the phone, listening for just a second. “Josey…” Mom paused, forcing her voice to sound calm. “I’ll call 9-1-1. We’ll get you some help. Pete’s sick and Joe’s bringing him here. We’ll be there as soon as we can…” Mom listened as Josey, frantic, continued. Then she replied, “They said what?!”
Anita’s heart hammered in her chest. Her eyes were glued on Mom as she spoke into the phone. “Listen to me. Stay by the phone. I’m calling you right back.”
Mom dialed 9-1-1 as she filled Anita in. “She said she called 9-1-1. The paramedics are overwhelmed. They can’t get an ambulance out here.”
“What are we going to do?”
But now Mom was talking to someone at Emergency. “We’re talking about an elderly man with a heart condition injured in a collapsed building! What d’you mean you can’t?” She was silent, listening to the response. “I understand. We’ll do what we can.”
Dad and Matt staggered through the kitchen door with Pete. Mom rushed to help him remove his coat while telling them about Josey’s crisis. Dad instantly rang 9-1-1 and got the same response.
“They’ll get here as soon as they can but…”
“George doesn’t have time on his side.”
Pete stared at them. “We’ll get him ourselves!”
“You’re staying here,” ordered Dad. Anita and Matt grinned; it was like Dad was talking to them. Dad gave Pete the phone. “Call Josey, Pete, and tell her I’m coming. Anita, get me Sandie’s number. I’ll call her dad to see if he can help.” His voice was sober. “We don’t have much time.”
It took just moments to organize a rescue with Sandie’s father, Bill, as Dad clambered into his snow suit and grabbed the truck keys.
“I’m coming.” Anita was resolute.
“No, you’re not.”
“We’re both coming.” Matt grabbed a dry coat and threw Anita hers.
There was no time to argue. Dad started the truck as Anita and Matt cleared the windshield and rear window, then jumped into the back seat. Mom rushed out, staring at them fearfully.
Matt stared ahead. “Drive, Dad.”
Then they were gone. Pete stood in the doorway staring at Mom, whose face was white as the snow. “They’ll be back. Let’s have that soup now, Betsy.”
Dad drove as fast as he dared, struggling to keep traction on the road that had already lost its definition. Subtle dips in the drifting snow warned them of the roadside ditches. Anita and Matt were silent, the tension knife-sharp. Dad would never have let them come if the urgency hadn’t been so great. In the headlights, Anita was the first to see the outline of the Vanier’s sign, which read “Majesty Miniatures.”
“Turn right Dad,” she told him. “The driveway’s right by the sign.”
“Don’t go wide,” Matt urged. “The ditches are really close.”
Dad followed their instructions. In the courtyard, they leapt out and ran to the house. Josey was waiting at the door as Anita rushed up with a hug. Another set of headlights swung into the driveway. Bill drove up, and Sandie and her brother Sean leapt out. Anita was so glad to see them.
“Quickly!” Josey rushed for the collapsed barn as wind blasted snow in her face and she bent to shield herself. They could just see the outline where the roof had slumped.
“George! Help’s here!” Josey’s voice quivered.
Silence. As she stumbled to the door, Dad held her back. They listened, straining above the wind. A shrill whinny answered. Anita, wide-eyed, glanced at Sandie.
“Wait here.” Dad’s glance included the kids. He looked at Bill. “Let’s check the door. This barn’s pretty unstable.”
Cautiously they pushed the door open, stepped inside, and swept the interior with flashlights. Bill caught his breath, staring at a motionless form.
“Oh no…”
Continued next issue.
Click here to download the Minis in a Storm, Part 1 word search.