Mother Nature 05.12.15
Note: This installment is Rated T for intensity and one mild curse word.
— § —
“Skipper, you think we should start heading home?” Private asked. “Those clouds look awfully nasty,” he observed looking up at the sky.
Skipper glanced out the window. Massive dark clouds rolled across the sky as thunder sounded in the distance. “I agree. Let’s leave a tip and go.”
The two grabbed the bag of snacks to take back to HQ, where the team planned on watching a game. After leaving a twenty por the register, they went out to the car, tossed the goods in the backseat and started back for the Central Park Zoo. Thankfully, they’d anticipated the rain and Rico had made a temporary roof just in case.
It didn’t take long for the rain to start pouring down and it became difficult to see, so Skipper had to drive slowly. It wasn’t as if he had a choice—the small car had to fight through about three inches of water. It slowly drifted down the sidewalk seguinte to the traffic-filled streets.
“It’s coming down really rough,” Private said observantly.
“I noticed,” Skipper said irritably. If he could just get to the end of this block he could take a shortcut through Central Park.
When the car reached the bottom of the decline, he hit the breaks, but the car merely turned one-eighty and the current dragged them across the luckily empty street. Skipper reached over and held Private back as they hit the opposite curb, the momentum causing the car to tip and roll over a few times. Both blacked out for a second, but thankfully, neither of them were hurt and both regained consciousness.
“Private, are you okay?” Skipper asked breathlessly.
“I’m fine—you?” Private replied.
“I’m okay,” he said realizing the car was on its side. “We need to flip the car over.”
“Aye,” Private replied.
The two of them climbed out and pushed the car onto its wheels. Then the soaking penguins climbed back in. But when Skipper stepped on the gas, he realized they were stuck in a pit of mud. He groaned.
“Take the wheel,” he instructed. “I’ll go out and try to get us unstuck.”
As Private slid into the driver seat, Skipper walked around to the back of the car and started to push. Private stepped on the gas and the wheels turned with zero traction and mud sprayed everywhere. Skipper cursed under his breath as thunder cracked overhead. He dug his feet into the mud as much as he could and pushed again. This time, the car pulled out of the mud with such force that Skipper fell face-forward into the mud as the car moved ahead. When he got to his feet and shook the muck from his vision, he looked up to see that the car had disappeared. Furrowing his brow, he squinted through the mural of water and saw that the park sloped downward. He pulled himself progressivo, para a frente in a panic and looked down to see the car plummet into the pond.
“Private!” he screamed, but his words were carried away and lost in the wind. He leapt onto his stomach and slid down, not even stopping before propelling himself into the water. It was so dark he found it difficult to see, but a flash of lightning illuminated the car a few yards down. He plunged deeper into the water and found the door. He desperately knocked at the window hoping for a response, but it appeared that Private was unconscious. At least, that’s what he prayed. He tugged at the door handle as hard as he could, but the pressure was uneven on either side of the door—it was impossible.
The car finally hit the floor of the pond and Skipper searched for something he could use to break the window. He found a large rock and struck the windshield until it broke. Disregarding the sharp glass, he used his flipper to knock shards out of the way as he reached in and felt for Private’s flipper. With relief, he found it and pulled him out, and then carried him to the surface. He gasped for air when he reached the topo, início and pulled Private onto the bank.
“Come on, Private,” he said slapping his face. He listened to his chest and panicked when there was no response. He started pumping his chest. “Come on! Wake up, you Nancy-cat!” he cried desperately. He pumped air into his lungs and restarted compressions.
After a couple of minutes, it seemed helpless. This was all his fault. He didn’t even know they were about to go downhill because of the blinding rain. Damn Mother Nature! he thought. You can’t have him! He’s just a boy!
Finally, Private sputtered water and Skipper turned him onto his side. The rain continued to bore down on topo, início of them, but Skipper was almost grateful because it helped hide the tears streaming down his face.
“Private, are you okay?!” he called over the howl of the wind and the ferocious tidal wave from above.
“I think so . . . what happened?” Private said sitting up.
“The car went into the pond. It’s my fault! I’m so sorry!” Skipper said wrapping his flippers around the younger penguin. He almost lost him.
Private hugged back. “It’s okay! You couldn’t have known! We need to get back to HQ!”
Skipper nodded in agreement. “Come on! Stay seguinte to me! We can’t separate!”
They locked flippers and fought their way through Central Park, and finally dropped into HQ, which was empty.
“Where are the others?” Private asked shutting the hatch.
“They probably sought refuge in the Zoovenir comprar with the other zoosters,” Skipper suggested.
Private looked at Skipper and filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
Skipper didn’t respond for a moment. Then he looked at him and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Why don’t we dry up and we’ll play chess or something?”
“What about the others?” Private asked.
Skipper shrugged. “We’ll catch ‘em later.”
Note: This installment is Rated T for intensity and one mild curse word.
— § —
“Skipper, you think we should start heading home?” Private asked. “Those clouds look awfully nasty,” he observed looking up at the sky.
Skipper glanced out the window. Massive dark clouds rolled across the sky as thunder sounded in the distance. “I agree. Let’s leave a tip and go.”
The two grabbed the bag of snacks to take back to HQ, where the team planned on watching a game. After leaving a twenty por the register, they went out to the car, tossed the goods in the backseat and started back for the Central Park Zoo. Thankfully, they’d anticipated the rain and Rico had made a temporary roof just in case.
It didn’t take long for the rain to start pouring down and it became difficult to see, so Skipper had to drive slowly. It wasn’t as if he had a choice—the small car had to fight through about three inches of water. It slowly drifted down the sidewalk seguinte to the traffic-filled streets.
“It’s coming down really rough,” Private said observantly.
“I noticed,” Skipper said irritably. If he could just get to the end of this block he could take a shortcut through Central Park.
When the car reached the bottom of the decline, he hit the breaks, but the car merely turned one-eighty and the current dragged them across the luckily empty street. Skipper reached over and held Private back as they hit the opposite curb, the momentum causing the car to tip and roll over a few times. Both blacked out for a second, but thankfully, neither of them were hurt and both regained consciousness.
“Private, are you okay?” Skipper asked breathlessly.
“I’m fine—you?” Private replied.
“I’m okay,” he said realizing the car was on its side. “We need to flip the car over.”
“Aye,” Private replied.
The two of them climbed out and pushed the car onto its wheels. Then the soaking penguins climbed back in. But when Skipper stepped on the gas, he realized they were stuck in a pit of mud. He groaned.
“Take the wheel,” he instructed. “I’ll go out and try to get us unstuck.”
As Private slid into the driver seat, Skipper walked around to the back of the car and started to push. Private stepped on the gas and the wheels turned with zero traction and mud sprayed everywhere. Skipper cursed under his breath as thunder cracked overhead. He dug his feet into the mud as much as he could and pushed again. This time, the car pulled out of the mud with such force that Skipper fell face-forward into the mud as the car moved ahead. When he got to his feet and shook the muck from his vision, he looked up to see that the car had disappeared. Furrowing his brow, he squinted through the mural of water and saw that the park sloped downward. He pulled himself progressivo, para a frente in a panic and looked down to see the car plummet into the pond.
“Private!” he screamed, but his words were carried away and lost in the wind. He leapt onto his stomach and slid down, not even stopping before propelling himself into the water. It was so dark he found it difficult to see, but a flash of lightning illuminated the car a few yards down. He plunged deeper into the water and found the door. He desperately knocked at the window hoping for a response, but it appeared that Private was unconscious. At least, that’s what he prayed. He tugged at the door handle as hard as he could, but the pressure was uneven on either side of the door—it was impossible.
The car finally hit the floor of the pond and Skipper searched for something he could use to break the window. He found a large rock and struck the windshield until it broke. Disregarding the sharp glass, he used his flipper to knock shards out of the way as he reached in and felt for Private’s flipper. With relief, he found it and pulled him out, and then carried him to the surface. He gasped for air when he reached the topo, início and pulled Private onto the bank.
“Come on, Private,” he said slapping his face. He listened to his chest and panicked when there was no response. He started pumping his chest. “Come on! Wake up, you Nancy-cat!” he cried desperately. He pumped air into his lungs and restarted compressions.
After a couple of minutes, it seemed helpless. This was all his fault. He didn’t even know they were about to go downhill because of the blinding rain. Damn Mother Nature! he thought. You can’t have him! He’s just a boy!
Finally, Private sputtered water and Skipper turned him onto his side. The rain continued to bore down on topo, início of them, but Skipper was almost grateful because it helped hide the tears streaming down his face.
“Private, are you okay?!” he called over the howl of the wind and the ferocious tidal wave from above.
“I think so . . . what happened?” Private said sitting up.
“The car went into the pond. It’s my fault! I’m so sorry!” Skipper said wrapping his flippers around the younger penguin. He almost lost him.
Private hugged back. “It’s okay! You couldn’t have known! We need to get back to HQ!”
Skipper nodded in agreement. “Come on! Stay seguinte to me! We can’t separate!”
They locked flippers and fought their way through Central Park, and finally dropped into HQ, which was empty.
“Where are the others?” Private asked shutting the hatch.
“They probably sought refuge in the Zoovenir comprar with the other zoosters,” Skipper suggested.
Private looked at Skipper and filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
Skipper didn’t respond for a moment. Then he looked at him and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Why don’t we dry up and we’ll play chess or something?”
“What about the others?” Private asked.
Skipper shrugged. “We’ll catch ‘em later.”
