Fifty Seven – Boats and Blue Sky

Abigail lay on her back looking up at the sky. It was very hot, especially when you had fur. Clambering to her paws she looked around for her sun hat. She must have left it behind. The boat rocked and made a soft splashy sound, it was very wobbly, it had been fun to climb in, but perhaps it was time to get out.

She heard a very faint cry. ‘Abigail…..ABIGAIL!’ Where was that coming from?

Squinting into the sun, she shaded her eyes with her paw. There was an awful lot of water all around her, the boat seemed a long way away from the grass and the trees, how had it got out here? Standing up on the tips of her paws she waved.

‘Hello!’ I’m over here.

‘We know you’re over there,’ shouted Preston. He looked very small so far away, like a little white spot. ‘Just come back here before someone sees you.’

Abigail looked down at the boat and made a shooing movement with her paws towards the grass. ‘go back boat,’ she said, ‘l want to go back over there.’ Nothing happened. ‘There!’ she said impatiently, shaking her paws again and pointing at a tree. ‘I want to go over there!’

Preston put his head in his paws. ‘Abigail, boats don’t shoo, use the oars.’

Abigail looked around, ‘what’s an oar?’

‘Its a long bit of wood,’ called Patrick, appearing beside Preston with the binoculars, he looked around nervously. ‘ You put them in the water and pull and then the boat moves. Come on Abigail, someone might see you.’ He put the binoculars up to his eyes and slowly turned around in a circle.

Looking around the boat Abigail saw two long thin bits of wood. There were very big. Leaning back against the side she pulled hard. Nothing happened. She tried again.

‘I can’t, they’re too heavy.’

‘There’s nothing for it’ muttered Preston, tying his scarf up over his ears, ‘we’re going to have to go out and get her.’

Patrick stared at him. ‘Why are you doing that with your scarf?’

‘Don’t want to get it wet.’ said Preston, ‘it might shrink. Come on, and leave Grigs behind, tell him to stay hidden.’

Muttering, Patrick followed slowly behind, fiddling with his scarf. ‘How are we going to get to her?’ He wrapped his scarf up over his head. Better to be safe.

‘The other boat, quick, let’s climb in.’

‘But we can’t row.’

Preston pulled at a big stick, ‘we’ll use this to lever the oars up. Come on.’

‘It’ll never work,’ muttered Patrick darkly.

‘Yes it will,’ said Preston, dragging the stick towards the boat, ‘you’re only saying that because you didn’t think of it.’

Abigail watched as the other boat started to move towards her. There was a lot of splashing. And a lot of arguing. Patrick and Preston couldn’t seem to agree. Now they seemed to be going around in circles. Sitting down she dangled her paw in the cool water thoughtfully, perhaps she could swim back.

‘Don’t you dare Abigail!’ shouted Preston, standing up on the seat of the other boat. He looked very strange, his blue scarf was stuck up above his head. ‘It’s very deep and a long way, you might drown.’

Abigail pulled her paw back quickly, she didn’t want to drown. The boat wobbled. Thoughtfully she put her paw back in the water. Perhaps she could paddle. Patrick and Preston were getting nearer, leaning forward she reached down into the water with both paws. The boat wobbled again.

‘Stay right where you are!’ shouted Preston, ‘don’t move!’

Ignoring him Abigail leant down even more. Suddenly she slid forward, ooh the water was very close and it was getting even closer! There was a whoosh and then a splash. She’d fallen in! Gasping she paddled hard with her paws. This was a lot colder than a bath!

‘Here hold on to this oar!’

‘Ow!’ shouted Abigail as a long bit of wood hit her on the hard. ‘That hurt!’ She grabbed the edge with her paw.

‘Pull!” said Preston. ‘We’ve got her.’

Sitting on the grass in the warm sun, Abigail shook out her fur. It was still very wet.

‘Is it raining?’ yawned Grigs, opening his eyes.

Abigail waved her paws over him. ‘It’s me, I’m raining.’ Shaking his head, Grigs settled back down onto the blanket.