I thought it might be interesting to put here some of my writing which has gone into an anthology
Here are two recent ones.
The Herd
The thunderous sound of the rain hitting the helicopter made communication almost impossible. The pilot peered through the front of the machine as sheets of rain cascaded down. She tried to make out their objective, the trapped herd of wild horses. Her crew focused their attention on the side windows watching the flooded river, with the usual debris of broken branches and the occasional dead animal all racing along in the foaming water. Suddenly there was a cry. “I see them!”
The pilot’s soft voice said, “Where, Johan?”
“Almost below but to the right. Poor devils are crowded onto a little island in the middle of the river.”
Jacoba altered course but kept well above the raging torrent holding their height until she hovered above the island. She could make out the Air Sea Rescue boat’s red as it headed towards the stricken animals. She radioed to her colleagues in the boat below. “What’s the plan? Shall my guys come down? Is there enough space on dry land, or must they also go into the drink? How strong is the current there?”
“It is very strong with a wicked undertow. There is another boat further down in case of accidents with the animals and, of course, the men. Yes, please send your guys down too. The more, the merrier.”
She watched as her crew winched down and landed in the foaming, muddy water, linking with the guys from the boat. They were roped to each other but still managed to fan out and surround the island leaving only a small gap facing another exposed spit of dry land. The sheets of rain, the roar of the chopper and men in red wet suits bobbing in the treacherous water was enough to terrify the horses. They bunched closer, keeping the three foals safe in their centre.
Unable to bear the tension, the stallion threw his head up and leapt into the water, swimming towards the other little sandy island.
The rest soon followed. The men caught the foals as they laboured in the water.
Jacoba smiled. Their first objective was achieved. She reported on the radio. “Once we got the stallion to see the next island, things went smoothly.”
She spoke too soon.
The roaring water was frigid. The men were tiring too. Only giving the poor creatures a short respite, the red-suited men tried the same tactic again. This time the horses panicked. Thankfully the stallion kept his head and struck out for the safety of the river bank.
Some of the mares also went into the water following the stallion.
Once again, Jacoba related the movements on the ground back to the boat. “The exhausted horses are reluctant to move into the water again.” A few moments later, she jubilantly said, “ Oh great, they’re on the move again! Oh no, they have split up.”
As she watched, a few horses tried to return to the island where they had just left. The men had to head them off and attempt to force them to the bank. In the confusion, one of the foals following its mother was swept into the torrent.
Watching a tragedy unfold, Jacoba yelled on the radio. “Quick, get the other crew to catch the foal,” They saw it bobbing in the torrent and threw a rope over its head. Pulling against the current, they slowly inched the exhausted little animal to the side of the boat.
One chap jumped into the water and tried to lift the dripping animal. “Come on, you guys help get this little chap into the boat.”
Another rope was fixed around its body. Heaving hard, they slowly lifted the long-legged animal over the side and into the boat, where it lay on its side, heaving but still alive.
Meanwhile, the men boxed the rest of the animals and supported the other two foals as they made their way to the bank.
Jacoba laughed with relief. “All the mares and foals have landed!”
An equine rescue crew had set up a food and water station back a little from the river bank’s crumbling edge. They stood, hearts racing as they watched the drama unfold. They crowded at the river’s edge as the rescue boat headed to the shore. The little foal was carefully landed. “We can reunite it with its mother, but first, we need to check it out. If it hasn’t inhaled any water, it will be fine.”
It still lay on its side, breathing with difficulty. The veterinary nurse gently compressed its chest. Suddenly it wretched and bought up a copious amount of ugly brown water. Immediately its breathing improved. The mare approached her young. It stood up and nuzzled her.
“Thank goodness it stands a chance of surviving, but we need to give it an antibiotic. Well done, you guys.”
On another radio, a new voice enquired, “I am the rescue supervisor. I need to report the outcome of this mission to the minister. Do they all look in good condition?”
Jacoba took a deep breath, got her irritation under control and answered, “I think they’ve had a helluva time. The mares seem fine but very tired, though.”
“How many mares and foals have made it?”
Irritated, she replied, “It is bucketing down with rain. The river is in flood. I am trying to keep the chopper up under horrendous conditions, and you want me to count the animals! I don’t know, except it looks like they have all made it.”
The guys pulled each other out of the water. Exhausted, they flopped onto the grass. One of the veterinary nurses soon handed out sweet tea to them and then said, “Your chopper pilot is going to find a patch to land.”
Once again, Jacoba’s radio crackled. “What about the stallion?”
“I’m going to land and check the humans and the horses, but it seems he is ok. Typical male, he checked his herd. Then he stomped off and left them to be sorted out by the humans while he went to find some tasty treats.”
Here is another
Babca
The silence penetrated her sleep. Ludmilla lay curled in a foetal position but woke with a start. There were no sounds of bombing. She lay huddled, wrapped only in the thin blanket on the mattress in the basement. The invaders had stolen all her bedding during a raid. She was grateful the basement had escaped their notice. The cat was sleeping at her feet. Choosing not to use her precious candle, she quickly dressed and fumbled to the door. A weak light filtered down the stairway. She must have overslept. It was morning, and she needed to collect water while avoiding the soldiers. They were late risers, not surprising as they spent all night carousing, raping girls or torturing prisoners.
She heard shouting but no gunfire. The cat purred, twisting about her feet as she inched to the window. With infinite caution, she lifted a corner of the curtain. A crowd was walking, laughing and waving flags. She could not remember when she had last laughed. They surrounded a soldier! One of theirs, Did she recognise him?
With her bent frame, she clung onto her walking stick as she hastily drew the bolts and opened the door. The soldier saw her and opened his arms. Tears flowed down her leather-like cheeks as she clung to him, resting her head on his chest. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
He held her tight as he said, “Yes, Babca, it is me. We’re back.”
She reached her gnarled hand up and patted his cheek. “I never thought I would see family again.”
His arms tightened around her, taking in her frail frame. “Come, Gran, let me help you to the Square where there’s hot food.”
Nodding through her tears, she said, “It’s months since I had a decent meal,”
Clinging to his proffered arm, she felt as if she could fly. “I’m lucky the house still stands, but they looted everything. Fortunately, they didn’t find the entrance to the basement. Your grandfather cleverly concealed it behind the bookcase.”
The soldier looked down at her. This sad survivor, his grandmother, was typical of why he and his comrades had gone through such hell to free another vital part of their country.
They rounded a corner and stopped in amazement. People were waving flags. Everyone was smiling and laughing. They were giddy with the intoxicating atmosphere of liberation
The aroma of soup wafted over the crowd. He said, “Sit here while I fetch you some food.”
She shook her head. “No, I should be feeding you.”
He wagged his finger in her face and smilingly said, “My mother would never forgive me if I did not get food for you. You are so brave and have survived a difficult time.”
Taking a sip, Ludmilla smiled and allowed the delicious hot liquid to trickle down her throat.
She knew only too well there were difficulties to be overcome, like no water or power, but they were back with their people.
Words: 499