Preview: The Tealight

[Anthem]

(Ignore spelling, grammar mistakes, etc.)

They’re right in front of my eyes, and I honestly can’t believe it. I shut my eyes tightly for a few minutes and rub them furiously. But when I open my eyes again and they aren’t gone, I have to believe that what I’m seeing is absolutely one hundred percent real and alive. A few feet ahead of me, paddling exasperatedly in the deep, unending sea water, are two living, breathing horses.
The animals are barely holding their heads above the water, and the sound I’ve been hearing is their shallow breathing. It’s loud and raspy, almost like a bear snoring. I stand there and try to process what I see for a minute and then realize that they’re about to drown. So I suddenly jump and run down to the interior and grab whatever I can that might be able to pull them closer to the boat. The first thing I find that might be useful, I snatch up from the dresser that’s sitting in one of the two interior rooms. It’s a long cable, one of the ones that used primarily for rock climbing. I tie a loop into it, then noose it so I’ll be able to wrap it around one of the horses’ necks or something. I’m not exactly an equine expert, but I don’t know what else to do.
As soon as I’m sure the noose will be secure enough to not come untied, I race back upstairs to the rail so fast, and with so much force, I cause the boat to rock a little bit. I clamp my hands on the rail when the boat rocks (because I’m terrified of it tipping). When it finally stops, I hold the cable in my hands like it’s rope, and I prepare myself to whirl it. I heave the deepest sigh I can, close my eyes for a second or two, then twirl the cable in the air and throw it.
It misses both horses by not even a foot. Just my luck. I reel the cable back in, shake it to remove as much of the water as I can (I don’t want it to hurt the horses when I throw it again), and put my hands back in the roping position. The same routine takes place; sighing, closing my eyes, throw. Miss. Sigh, eyes shut, throw. Miss. Sigh, eyes shut… throw, miss.
Sigh. By about the tenth time I’ve missed, I’m about to give up. Both horses are trembling and nickering and whinnying hysterically, and I can tell I’ve spooked them a lot, and I feel awful. I start groaning at how frustrated I am at myself and look down once again at the cable in my hands, then back out at the horses. I decide to try one more time to save them.
I keep my eyes on the horses as I inhale a deep breath of the salty air. When I exhale, all the tension leaves my muscles. I can see that one of the two exhausted animals is holding the same stare on me as I am on it. I hold the cable like a rope once more, brace myself, and twirl it. I continue to hold my gaze on the two horses, and then I throw the cable for what I hope is the last time. I close my eyes tightly when I see the makeshift lasso about to hit the water. When I open my eyes again, a huge relief washes over me. The cable finally landed around one horse’s neck.
Without hesitation, I tug gently at the cable until it tightens enough around my victim’s neck to where I can pull him close to the boat. As soon as he notices that he’s caught, he doesn’t even try to argue with the noose, and he swims at the same time I pull. When I’ve got him right next to the boat, I’m amazed at how much bigger he is than he looked; these are not small horses.
His breathing is much louder now, too. It’s like a lawnmower that’s right outside a bedroom window mixed with a million thunder strikes. I lead the horse around to the other side, where there’s no rail, and I begin trying to pull him up onto the boat. He revolts and tries to tug the cable from my hand by jerking his head back in resistance. I coo and coax him and try to be as calm as possible so he doesn’t sense my urgency. It isn’t easy, let me tell you. I’ve got one that I’m trying to get to safety, and then another that’s five feet away without anything to lean on now.
Finally, the horse gives up on resisting my help and I bring him in toward the boat. The floor I’m standing on isn’t that high up from the surface of the water, so you’d think it’d be easy to get him up here. It isn’t.
I manage to get the horse to place his forelegs on the deck. But his hind legs really aren’t strong enough at the moment. I don’t want him to hurt himself, so I have no other option but to jump in the water and help him. The cable is long enough that I can go around the little outside ‘block’ of the interior and secure the wire to the rail. So that’s what I do, and after I know it’s tight enough, I find a spot far enough away from the horse and leap into the water.
I thought it would be cold. It’s a lot colder than that. My teeth are chattering, but I quickly swim around to the horse without stopping. When he sees me, he doesn’t even wince. His breathing is still incredibly loud, but I do my best to ignore it, because I know how much pain he’s in. He has rein rope on him, which I couldn’t see from far away. I wrap my fingers around the reins and pull them forward, toward the boat. The horse paddles forward, so I swim around behind, while keeping one hand on his back the whole time in hopes that I don’t spook him when I try to lift his hind legs. He seems fine, or as fine as a horse could be in this type of situation. After patting his thigh a few times, I open my mouth, inhale as much air as I possibly can, and dive under.
It’s hard to see when everything underwater is black and white or dirt. My eyes, I have to keep narrowed so the salt and dirt don’t burn or scratch them. But I have to keep my eyes wide enough so that I can see the horse.
I feel around on the horse’s leg until my hand finds one of his hooves. It isn’t easy, because he’s kicking his legs so he doesn’t drown, and then there’s the fact that his hooves are enormous. It takes a few minutes before I can firmly hold his leg, and then I intertwine my fingers and push them under his hoof. The air in my lungs is starting to leave, and I’m so close to the water’s surface, it hurts. Gravity is regaining its hold on me and the horse I’m trying to rescue. When I can no longer breathe, a cold breeze finally hits my hand, and then there’s no longer a hoof in it. I blink, starting to feel a slight bit of relief. But then something awful happens.
The horse slips, and it’s a bad slip. His hind legs come down on my shoulder, and it hurts so bad, I want to scream. I immediately raise my head above the water and gasp for breath, my chest pounding badly from the lack of air. Everything around me is blurry, but I try to shake the feeling, and I go back under. This time I don’t even wait until the horse stops kicking for a minute, and my fingers on my right hand get cracked a little bit by the hitting pressure a hoof. I ignore the sound and quickly intertwine my fingers again, place my hands under his hoof, and swim upwards as hard as I can.
My fingers aren’t that strong, but regardless, I don’t give up on saving this dang horse, no matter how heavy he is. This time, my hand breaks the surface of the water, and I hold on to his foot for dear life until at least my neck is above water. After blinking back saltwater for a few seconds, I grab all the strength I have and shove the horse up on the boat. His right hind leg is up on the edge, while his left is in midair. As quickly as I can, I jump up to the edge of the boat and struggle to pull myself up. When I’m all the way up, I stand and pull the rope and cable, and finally, all four of the stallion’s legs are firmly on the deck.