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Sandra spent half of her energy praying, a quarter of it trying not to panic, and the final quarter of it straining her eyes to see in the darkness. She called Peter’s name and then started to count to ten before calling to him again, so that he would have a chance to answer. But she never got past three. “Peter!” One ... two ... three ... “Peter!” One ... two ... three ... “Peter!”
But he didn’t answer.
Suddenly, a light flickered between the trees and she ran toward it calling out to her son. Finally, she heard his faint voice calling back.
“Hold still!” she ordered and then he was in her sights, and relief flowed through her like a warm river. She wrapped her arms around his cold body and hugged him like a vise.
“Mom! It’s okay, I’m fine!” He tried to push her off.
She finally let him. “You don’t understand.” She was breathless. “I couldn’t find you. I thought the worse. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
He laughed. “Mom, I told you, I’m fine. Not hurt at all. I sort of flew off the snowmobile. It was awesome.”
“Then why didn’t you answer me when I called to you?”
“I did! But you didn’t give me a chance to answer. You just kept hollering Peter! Peter! Peter!” He started to pull her away, to her right. “I rolled down a bank, and I had to climb back up it.”
“But why did you take so long?”
“Take so long? Mom, we only crashed like one minute ago.”
One minute ago? Really? That was the longest minute of her life. She exhaled deeply. “Okay, then let’s try to find the sled.”
“Mom, are you okay? It’s right there.” He shone his flashlight to her right, and sure enough, there was the sled, looking so benign, blocking the narrow trail. “I can’t wait to tell Dad you flipped a snowmobile over.” He snickered. “And then walked off in the wrong direction looking for me. Come on, let’s flip it back. Otis is drowning.”
Still a bit confused and sneaking up on exhausted, Sandra went to his side to help him flip the sled back over, a task which sounded so easy when he’d first mentioned it.
It wasn’t. She grunted and pushed and heaved and hoed and—nothing. Her winter boots, while blessedly warm, didn’t have great treads, and she spent most of her gumption slowly running in place. Peter seemed to be faring better. At least his half of the sled was jiggling a little. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed the same prayer again. “Send help, please.”
“I’ll pull and you push,” Peter said, heading for the back of the sled.
“It will crush you!”
“No it won’t. I’m smart enough to get out of the way, Mom.” He put his small hands on the top of the sled and pulled them toward him. “Maybe if we get it rocking.” He grunted and pulled and then let off and it rolled back toward her, and then he grunted and pulled again. Soon, the sled was indeed rocking until on one of those rocks, it swung past the fulcrum and headed toward Peter, who, true to his promise, scampered out of the way. Sandra had no idea if they’d accomplished the task themselves of if they’d received supernatural help.
She also didn’t care. She collapsed onto the seat, breathing hard. “Come on, let’s go rescue Otis, if it’s not too late.” She reached down for the pull-cord. She would start the thing herself this time. She’d relied on the ten-year-old enough lately. Praise be, it roared to life on her first try.
“Mom!” Peter hollered into her ear. He shined his light toward the large indentation the sled had left and there lay her phone she still had fourteen payments on. She was so exhausted she thought about leaving it there, but then slowly started to drag herself off the sled. Too late, though, as Peter was on it. He jumped off the sled, grabbed the phone, and was back on board before she would have even gotten her feet on the ground.
“Thank you.” She had never meant those words more. She shoved the phone into her pocket and then she was back on the trail she never wanted to start down in the first place.
But for this leg of the journey, they traveled at a more reasonable pace and never encountered another turn in the trail. A long straightaway spilled them out into an opening that sloped down onto a wide flat plane: this must be the pond. She squeezed the brake as Peter jumped off. She wanted to scold him for not waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete stop, but she bit her tongue. She fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket with her frozen-useless fingers, but before she could accomplish this mundane task, a light appeared out on the pond.
“Over here!” Bob called.
With a surge of adrenaline, Sandra jumped off the sled and tried to run toward the water’s edge. Her legs weren’t in a cooperative mood, however, and Peter grabbed her to keep her from falling. “Is it safe to walk on?” she hollered out to Bob.
“Yes! Hurry! What took you so long? It takes a lot of energy to keep this lit.”
He didn’t know they’d tipped over, which meant he hadn’t helped them, which meant if they’d had supernatural help, it had come from someone else. Was there an angel in charge of the ATV trails? She’d ask Bob later, when he wasn’t so busy. Squeezing Peter’s hand so hard she was probably hurting him, she took a tentative step out onto the ice, and then another. Then she realized what she was doing. “Wait here,” she said sternly.
“Sorry, Mom. You can ground me if you need to, but I’m not waiting here.”
When did he get so sassy? And so brave? Fine. She didn’t have time to argue. She headed for Bob’s light and saw that he was standing on the edge of open water. Otis hadn’t fallen through the ice so much as he’d driven straight off it into water that hadn’t even frozen yet.
Bob shot a hand out toward her. “Stay there. I’ll push him up, and you grab him and pull him out.”
Pull him out? What did he think she was, He-Man?
She heard the water moving and knelt down at the edge of the thin ice, peering into the dark depths. The ice cracked beneath her, and she prayed for safety. Before she was ready, Otis’s head popped up out of the water, and then his shoulders. Peter reached out and grabbed one of his arms, jolting her into action. She grabbed the other, and together they grunted and yanked and pushed themselves back across the ice. They’d almost gotten Otis free from the waist up when Sandra lost her grip and Otis rapidly slid back into the water. Peter didn’t let go and he started to slide toward the water’s edge.
“No!” Sandra dove for Otis’s other arm and caught it just before he went all the way under. She looked at Peter to make sure he was okay, and he appeared to be, so she pulled again on Otis, giving it her all and then some, but he wouldn’t budge. Where was Bob? Could he give Otis another shove from beneath? And then he did and Otis surged toward them. They pulled again, skittering backward until a lifeless Otis lay face-down on the ice. The angelic light blinked out, and Sandra found herself frustrated with her angel. He couldn’t have waited two more minutes? But then the clouds parted and the moon peeked through, giving her enough light to see Otis, and she felt guilty for her frustration. Repenting under her breath, she tried to be gentle and still speedy as she rolled Otis over.
“He’s not breathing!” Peter sounded terrified, and his teeth were chattering.
She stared at Otis’s chest. “No, he’s not.”