Back to the flames

     It had been a dry, burnt summer without a drop of rain. As we rode along Antler Path Trail, I looked around. To my left, pine needles floated in the hot wind like tiny brown ghosts drifting lazily to the ground. On my right was my friend Jake, who was thirteen, the same age as me. He was leading Mohawk, the leggy, coal black yearling colt we had been raising, he was blind and his mother had rejected him.

My attention turned back to my horse, Rose, who threw back her head and whinnied alarmingly.  Both horses seemed nervous.

“Look,” Jake called, pointing to the inky clouds ahead.

     “Yeah, finally some rain!” I shouted, but immediately regretted my words. Everybody knows that after a dry season, a sudden storm can cause major forest fires.

“We should probably head back,” Jake yelled as the winds churned. But as we turned to leave, a bolt of deadly precise lightning struck a nearby tree, sparking more around it. In seconds, a sickly orange-yellow haze rose from the bush.

“Quick! This way!” Jake hollered, and charged for a gap in the trees. But as he passed,  a falling branch struck him on the head. I jumped off Rose and urged her towards Jake.

“Easy girl, we’ll be fine,” I crooned, but I didn’t know if it was true. The air was thin and the smoke blinding. I swung poor Jake onto Rose’s back, then jumped on behind him. But as I reached for Mohawk’s lead, another branch cracked, sounding like someone’s bone snapping in half. Mohawk spooked and darted into the smoke. There was no time to lose. I grabbed Rose’s reins and galloped toward Ice Cap Lake, which filled with meltwater every Spring.  

    

As soon as I spotted the lake, I swung down, pulled Jake off Rose, and headed, reins in hand, toward some cool relief. But Rose wouldn’t follow. She broke from me and charged, terrified, back into the flames. I wanted to scream but could barely breathe.

Suddenly, there was a roar of thunder and the dusty sky burst into tears. I started to cry myself,  realizing what I had just lost. The forest I loved, my faithful horses, and maybe even Jake, who laid unconscious over a log.

I buried my face in my hands, when suddenly I heard a high-pitched whinnie. I whistled and out of the bramble of black timber came Rose, solemn but unharmed.  My eyes filled with smudged tears, I hugged her neck so tightly. Then I felt a playful shove against my right hip. Pulling my face out of Rose’s mane, I saw the coal black colt. I hugged him too,  thinking how lucky I was, when I heard Jake’s voice.

“Hey! Are you just going to stand there or can we get going?” There he was, sitting upright, clutching his head with his hand, but smiling. So I smiled back. Everything was going to be fine.