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Shaina and I (standard:non fiction, 1322 words)
Author: ZoeAdded: Nov 22 2001Views/Reads: 3240/2102Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A moving childhood tale inspired by memories and experiences of my own, growing up on a farm, hardships and the illness of my niece.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Shaina smiled and gave Zoe a small kiss on her hand, then scuttled down
to the waters edge and sat inn the shallow water. At this time of year, 
the old twisted willow trees donned the pale yellow and magenta leaves. 
 The bank had been pushed back by flooding during the year, causing 
erosion that dragged part of the fence line away. 

The river was at the bottom of Zoe’s grandfather’s property, about a
ten-minute walk form their home.  You could see the old homestead 
watching over the many acres and cattle from it’s place on the large 
hill. 

In the afternoon, the huge colonial windows reflected, and lit up, and
the engine-red tiled roof was visible from almost any point of the 
farm. Zoe ducked under the rusted barbed wire fence, and set off to the 
Windmill Paddock.  The warm air smelled sweet from cut hayseed. 

It was late December; the fields had been baled to supply food for
winter, leaving the grass short, prickly and yellow. 

Zoe thought for a moment, and wished she had brought her thongs. 

When she arrived at the gate of the Windmill Paddock, her familiar call
brought three horses immediately.  She climbed over and stroked the old 
Palomino mare on the forehead. 

She was right, the water was down to a trickle, spread across the bottom
of the trough.  She worked hard to pump the water up, and eventually it 
was filled.  Zoe decided not to take any more time petting the horses. 

While she was walking, a gust of wind swirled across the field, lifting
the seeds and relocating them.  The wonderful sight was cut short for 
Zoe. 

A sudden, sharp, jerking scream echoed quickly over the paddock.  It was
cut off, and for a second, Zoe almost mistook it for a bird. 

But when it sounded again, there was no doubt that the voice was
screaming, “Zoe” and that it belonged to her niece, Shaina. 

Zoe whipped into motion and sprinted for the river.  Her small bare feet
thumped wildly across the stubby grass.  Her mind was racing along with 
her body, “What has happened?”  But, no answers came to mind quickly 
enough. 

She scrambled through the wire fence, and tore open her leg in the
process.  She jolted up from her hands and knees and slid down the 
eroded part of the bank. 

Across the other side and to the right, she could see disturbed water,
but no Shaina.  Her eyes searched wildly. 

“Shaina!” she screamed loudly, her voice echoing throughout the trees. 
“Shaina!” 

There was nothing. 

Zoe fled down the bank and into the river.  She took a guess and swam to
where she had seen the ripples.  She searched the bank, under the 
fallen branches and leaves as quickly as she could.  The water fell 
deeper and began to get colder. 

A loud splashing came out through the water. Ahead, Zoe could see
Shaina’s arms thrashing in the muddy water.  She could see her face, 
gasping for air and her tiny voice trying to make a sound. 

Zoe struggled with the river as she swam to Shaina.  Her eyes stung and
she became tired.  It felt like she was swimming so hard, but getting 
nowhere.  Shaina then disappeared into the water.  “Shaina!” Zoe 
bubbled in fright. She ducked under the water and searched blindly. 

All struggle and screaming became nothing, once submerged.  She rose to
the surface to breathe, and down again. 

It felt like so long.  A lump the size of a baseball began to well in
Zoe’s throat.  She felt sick.  Suddenly, she felt something brush her 
arm, then tiny fingers brush her cheek.  Mumbles were excitedly 
exchanged in the dark.  Zoe clutched Shaina’s arm, dragged her to the 
surface, and across to the bank. 

Shaina wheezed violently, her eyes bulged and her lungs gasped for air. 
She was an asthmatic and it was overpowering her.  Her tiny chest 
heaved, her ribs exposed as they contracted, making a dragging sound 
that brought hysterical tears to her young aunt’s eyes. 

“Shaina...look at me,” she said, clutching the side of Shaina’s head and
twisting her face towards hers.  “Don’t struggle!” she said, “Breathe 
slowly, Shaina please.” 

Her voice broke as she cried, and found it hard to speak. 

Shaina’s breath became fewer; they were much emptier.  Zoe became
hysterical.  She held Shaina’s body in her arms and rocked her gently; 
she didn’t know what was happening. 

Zoe stroked Shaina’s hair and whispered to her gently, as the sun
dropped over the distant trees. 


   


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