Show and Tell

by Amy Shojai

  Even then, the kids couldn’t lift Lenny. Shock alone could kill the boy, if his injuries hadn't already. "Melinda, there's a couple of horse blankets on one of those top bales. Yep, where Boris Kitty is resting. We've got to keep Lenny warm."

  Willie remained focused on his dog. "Nikki, you work for a vet." His voice trembled, the implications clear. "There's stuff you can do to save him. I saw it on TV about pet CPR."

  "I never learned how. September knows." Nikki leaned over Kinsler and felt his chest, then held her palm in front of his nose. "He's not breathing. And I can't feel his heart." She jutted her chin. "September, tell me what to do."

  September fumed. They couldn't waste the time. At least Melinda had covered up Lenny as best she could. The orange cat Willie called Waffles decided to snuggle beneath the injured boy's neck. Maybe they could secure the bale in place—

  "My dog, what about Kinsler?" Willie yelled, frantic.

  Shadow whined. He hated raised voices. More to placate Willie and keep him busy than with any hope for success, September barked out instructions. "Melinda, you're the tallest. Pick up Kinsler by his rear legs. That's right, upside down. Now swing him. Back and forth. With more energy." That often jump-started breathing. Chest compressions required a flat firm surface, not spongy straw bales, and even a veterinarian had trouble performing the ideal 100-120 compressions per minute under the best of conditions.

  With Willie's urging, Melinda took the dog by his hocks and swung him back and forth several times. The white dog flopped and dripped water like a sodden stuffed toy.

  Nikki interrupted. "It's not working. What about mouth to mouth? Doc Eugene promised to show me but—"

  September didn't wait for her to finish. No time, no time, she had to get the kids to safety. "Nikki, you still have your bolt cutters? Good. Willie, you work on Kinsler. The rest of you do exactly what I say, no questions and no hesitation. Got it?" She couldn't get down there to do the work, so they'd have to pull together.

  They all agreed, eyes wide and frightened.

  "Willie, sit down and put your dog in your lap on his back." As he situated himself, September pointed to the metal grid next to the stacked straw bales. "Nikki, those panels come in sections. Cut one loose. It'll be about four bale lengths apart, probably wired together."

  "I'm ready, now what?" Willie cradled Kinsler and waited, ignoring Nikki as the girl carefully climbed back into the water and searched for the far edge of the horse panel.

  September turned to the two youngest. "Steven and Tracy, you need to help, too. Melinda, work with them. Cut free the baling twine that holds together the bales. Choose the ones that won't matter if they fall apart, we need the twine."

  "What do I do about Kinsler?" Willie sounded panicked.

  "Willie, do nose-to-mouth rescue breathing. Kinsler's mouth won't seal right so wrap your hands around his muzzle. Yes, that's right. Now open your mouth, and put it over top of his nostrils and mouth." The boy didn't hesitate. "Keep his neck straight so it's a direct shot into his lungs. Gently blow two quick breaths, like you're blowing up a paper bag."

  He did it and then pulled away. "His chest moved."

  "That's good, Willie. After every two breath-puffs, pull away to let the air come back out. Keep doing that. Don't stop." Sometimes it took quite a while before pets breathed on their own. Sometimes they didn't. But she couldn't tell him that. Better that he remained focused. And calm.

  "I got one end cut." Nikki splashed to the other end of the wire grid panel while the first part sagged in deepening current. September wondered why the girl didn't shiver in the cold water. Adrenalin kept them all warm, she guessed.

  "Stay close to the bales, and keep a hand on a safe anchor." September told herself that would give Nikki time to escape if the breach came. The truth was, she didn't know. But they didn't have any choice.

  Melinda tugged ineffectually at the sisal on one of the bales. She screamed her frustration. "I need a knife!"

  The broken knife still poked through one side of September’s coat. She grabbed the handle through the fabric and tried to work the blade free. She’d toss it to the kids, and pray her aim wouldn’t hit them or fall short and drop it into the water.

  Nikki continued to struggle to cut loose with the other end of the panel. Without the horse panel, they wouldn't need the twine, and without the twine, they couldn't use the panel. September checked the state of the dike, and her breath quickened. No wonder the water level increased. The rest of the barrier could go at any moment. And the damn knife wouldn’t come free.

  Steven brought a two-foot scrap of twine he'd found and pushed it into Melinda's hands. Her brow furrowed. She wouldn't take it at first, until he began to singsong instructions.

  "See-saw, Margery-Daw,

  Cut the thing with the string.

  See it saw, Like a claw,

  Make a sling, Cut the string..."

  September frowned. Maybe he had learned this trick at the theater. Worth a shot. "Melinda, do what Steven says. Take that bit of twine, slip one end under the bale strap. Now grab both ends of your piece and pull up. That's what he means, make a sling. The weight of the bale holds it taut, you see? Now use your short piece and saw back and forth."

  Melinda’s face lit up when the maneuver cut through the strap like butter, and then she stiffened. Boris Kitty had climbed up her pant leg and draped himself around her neck. She dumped him off.

  "Good job, what a team. Melinda, you cut them, and Tracy and Steven collect them." September balled her fists, frustrated she couldn't lend a hand. "Next, tie all the pieces together, end to end, to make two strands long enough to stretch from here," she patted the loft floor, "clear down to the ground. Hurry." Best to have enough and double or even triple that amount of twine to add strength. She’d not yet worked out how to get the twine up to her level.

  Boris Kitty once again vaulted high, this time clawing up Melinda's back. With a cry, the girl twisted, stood, and tried to shake him loose but he kept his grip and shimmied to reach her shoulders. She peeled him off and set him none too gently on the bale beside her.

  "Done." Nikki stood with one hand still clutching the bolt cutters, and the other entwined in one end of the horse panel to keep it from sinking into the tugging current. "Now what?"

  Willie yelled with frustration, his face red from worry and exertion. "It's not working. He's still not breathing." September winced at the accusation in his voice.

  She saw a bit of sharp wire sticking out from the panel. Desperate times call for Hail Mary measures . . . "Nikki, cut off that wire, and straighten it out like a needle. You're going to do acupuncture on Kinsler."

  Willie's eyes grew large. To Nikki's credit, she acted excited. She followed September's directions explicitly. "Take the sharp end, and jab it to the bone in the midway point of Kinsler's philtrum. That's the slit below the nose and above the lips. Jab it HARD and wiggle back and forth." Needling this alarm point stimulated the release of adrenalin—veterinarians call the drug epinephrine. That might be enough to jump-start the dog's heart. "Don't stop, keep wiggling it and pressing hard."

  Ten seconds become a lifetime watching for signs of life in someone you love. When Kinsler gasped, Nikki jumped backwards with a squeal. The dog took another breath, and then yelped. He struggled weakly in Willie's happy embrace.

  Melinda shouted, too, and Shadow barked with excitement in what September thought to be celebration. But no. It was Boris Kitty again, this time perched atop Melinda’s head, a climbing maniac determined to scale the heights.

  September smiled. She knew exactly how to get the twine into the loft.

  Chapter 33

  The spring pole system, anchored with a triple-wrap of steel cable, sprouted from a crossbeam even with the loft floor. The attached industrial-size spring looked like it came from a garage door. A well-worn rope hooked to the spring, and ended with a frayed, chewed up double knot that swung slowly back and forth.

  September checked bel
ow. Steven and Tracy sat beside Willie who kept a firm grip on Kinsler's collar. The little dog appeared recovered, and September didn't want to tell the boy Kinsler could still collapse. All near drownings needed follow up medical care, but at this point, that was the least of their worries. She still hadn't a clue how to get Lenny up into the loft. Concentrate on those you can help.

  The two girls pushed one of the floating bales directly beneath the suspended rope while dragging the metal horse panel grid behind them. September knew the panel only weighed about fifteen pounds, but the eight-foot-by-fifty-inch dimensions made it a pain to manipulate. It'd make a keen ladder, though, something all the kids could climb. They'd hoist it up with twine and secure it to the crossbeam, once they got the twine up to September.

  "Nikki, stay low on the bale. Help steady it for Melinda." The older girl wore Boris Kitty like a stole, and his tail thumped with agitation. September didn't blame the cat. If she had a tail, it'd be bottlebrush with fear.

  Melinda carefully stood on the floating bale, directly below the spring pole rope. The kids had already threaded one end of the twine through Boris Kitty’s collar. Melinda grabbed the end of the swinging rope, using it to steady her own balance, and then held it next to her neck. Nothing happened.

  "What'll I do now? He won't go." Melinda peeled the cat off her shoulders with one hand, and tried to hang him onto the rope. He twisted and clawed at her shirt.

  "No, don't try to force him. It has to be the cat's idea." September watched in horror when the girl lost her grip and Boris Kitty fell into the water. The current immediately whisked the feline toward the swirling exit. "The twine, catch the twine." September prayed the collar wouldn't give way. Many cat collars break away, for safety reasons, so a cat wouldn't catch on something and strangle.

  Nikki caught up the end of the long spool of twine they'd gathered, and towed the hissing cat back. Before she could collect his furious form, he clawed his own way onto the floating straw bale, shook himself and each foot in turn, and leaped for Melinda's pant leg.

  She squealed as he climbed her body, scratch graffiti testament to his displeasure. This time Boris Kitty didn't stop at Melinda's shoulders. He spat in her face, paw-clutched the rope she still held steady in one hand, and scaled it quicker than a furry Tarzan, the lightweight baling twine trailing from his collar.

  "It worked. Now what?" Nikki stood in the water beside the bobbing bale, and grabbed the other side of the metal grid.

  The soaked cat, met by Shadow's inquisitive nose, smacked the dog soundly and streaked across the loft floor. Shadow started to follow. "No, Shadow. Wait." Cowed, he did as she asked. September wanted to shout with joy, but still needed to retrieve the hissed off cat and collect the twine. He'd vaulted to the top of a stack of wardrobe boxes stored in one corner.

  The cat ignored her. Shadow whined with concern as September walked the balance beam to reach the other side of the barn. "Hey there, Boris Kitty. Can I call you BK? What a brave cat, and such an athlete." She crooned to him and avoided eye contact, crossing to him in a curving pattern. One wrong move and the spooked feline might self-launch into the rafters, destroying their plans.

  But for once, luck was a lady. BK ignored her to studiously groom away water from his soaked fur. She picked up the trailing end of the twine, and collected it hand-over-hand as she approached the cat until able to untie the string from his collar. He purred his forgiveness. "Aren't you a handsome, brave fellow?" He mewed, head-bumped her hand, and returned to his tongue bath.

  Shadow woofed and pranced where he waited on the far side of the loft. September planned to set up the makeshift ladder on the far side, but time had run out. She'd need to tie it off on this side, and quickly.

  "Girls, weave twine back and forth through the end of the grid. Do it now." She watched impatiently. "That's right. Now tie it off. A couple of knots are fine, I'll do more once it's up here. Y'all lift and support the bottom, feed it up as I pull from this end."

  They lifted and all eight feet of the flexible fence snaked out of the water. September gathered the twine into a pile beside her. "Good, good, now hold it steady while I secure the top."

  The makeshift ladder wasn't ideal but the best she could do. September wrapped twine around the crossbeam, through the wire grids and back again, doubling and tripling the strands. The kids watched from below, finally understanding what she had in mind. This side of the barn actually worked better, because a double tier of straw rested directly beneath the panel making the first step up an easier reach.

  They heard the roar when the dam broke. The surge of water rocked Nikki and Melinda's bale, and the girls shrieked. They clung together when the straw surfed backwards. It smashed into the other bales where the other children perched.

  "Hang on. Everyone, stay together." September watched helplessly as the bales lifted in the sudden swell. Shadow rushed to her side.

  The flood uncorked the SUV from the bottleneck at the barn's doorway, bulldozing it away. Lenny's straw bale, closest to the exit, bobbled and twirled. Steven lurched; his tablet flew from his hands and landed between Lenny's legs, startling the small orange cat that still nestled on Lenny’s chest.

  Steven grabbed for Lenny's sleeve, but missed, slipped, and pitched into the water. Steven never made a sound, but his mouth opened in a shocked "o" of horror. He dog paddled to keep his head above water, but the current battered him like a cat playing with a mouse.

  “God, no!”

  When September screamed, Shadow pressed hard against her side. She hugged him tight and trembled, but her muscles refused to obey the mental command to go after the boy. Save him, save Steven. It's what any normal mother would do.

  Shadow stared into her face, gently licked September's tears, and pulled out of her embrace. He whirled, and without hesitation, Shadow dove off the loft floor into the water below.

  September screeched as her dog—her heart—disappeared beneath dirty swirls of water. The water depth had risen past his shoulders, running so swiftly it easily knocked him off his feet. She leaned forward, staring, ivory knuckles clutching the edge of the loft.

  She couldn't catch her breath. Her hands, feet, even her legs tingled. September willed Shadow to reach Steven. Her pulse drummed so loudly in her ears, it out-shouted the flood.

  He lunged, snapped and snagged Steven's jacket. Shadow’s grip swerved the boy's trajectory enough to lob Steven against Lenny's floating bale. Steven managed to claw a grip into Lenny’s bale strap with frantic fingers.

  The bale bobbed, dipped, and disappeared out the barn door with the two boys, Shadow helplessly swept in its wake. As if to underline the blackness of despair, the overhead floodlights sputtered out.

  Chapter 34

  Nikki shrugged off Melinda's weeping embrace. She had to shout over the rush of water. "What do we do?" They couldn't go after Lenny and Steven. But they couldn't stay here, either. Their perch on the straw stack bobbled.

  The other kids stared anywhere but at Nikki, the way kids avoided eye contact if a teacher asked a difficult question. Willie clutched his dog with one hand and held tight to Melinda with the other. Tracy hugged her dinosaur and rocked. They were no help.

  "What do we do? The flood's getting worse." September didn’t answer. Nikki craned to see into the loft, but September had moved back from the edge out of sight. Maybe working on some kind of plan? "Hey, September, where are you?" She hoped the woman wouldn't do something stupid, the way grownups sometimes did out of desperation. Nikki wanted to cry.

  The bales heaved upward and tipped, and everybody squealed, even Nikki. "September, we got to do something now." The whole stack shifted toward the open doorway, a hayride gone terribly wrong. One more big wave and the water would squirt them out like jelly from a doughnut. They couldn't wait for September. They had to finish her plan themselves.

  The crazy ladder beckoned, but the bales had shifted so much, they'd have to wade yards of water to reach it. Nikki caught up the extra baling tw
ine—they'd cut far more than they needed—and patted Melinda's arm.

  "What?" The older girl shivered uncontrollably and whimpered. Her tangled hair and runny mascara turned her face into a freaky Halloween mask. The collective bales, now a floating island, bobbed sideways. The whole stack slowly traveled toward the open barn door, and hung because the top tier of the straw wedding cake proved too high to pass through. It might scrape off any minute, though. The mountain of straw ground against the dirt floor. Flood pressure pushed from one side and sucked from the other, creating a temporary dam that slowed the outflow. When the top scraped off, they’d stream away with the rest of the bales.

  Nikki thrust the twine at Melinda. "You're biggest, you have to go first. Tie one end to your belt loop. Then you." She poked Willie. "Put Kinsler inside your jacket and zip it. You’ll need both hands."

  "What are you talking about?" Melinda's attention sharpened. "Go first?" But she threaded the end of the twin through belt loops, without being prompted a second time.

  "I'm next to tallest so I go last." Nikki had grown a bunch in the past two months, and stood a head taller than Willie despite being the same age. "Tracy goes ahead of me, because she's littlest."

  Nikki’s hands shook and her tongue wanted to stick to the roof of her mouth. At least she knew how to swim. Willie said he didn't know how, and there was no way Tracy could cross the water without help. Nikki scanned the loft again. She hoped September would be there when they climbed into the loft.

  Now that the bales had moved, the swaying horse panel's eight-foot length still left a four-foot gap to the floor of the barn. Nikki measured the best route with her eyes. A direct path, though shorter, risked the tug and push of the current. Better to sidle off the bales and use them like anchors as they moved to the far wall first. "There." She pointed, and explained as the other kids finished stringing themselves together. "September has the ladder all ready. We just have to reach it without getting drowned."