Jonny leant over the edge of the bank as far as he dared. He was lying flat on his stomach in the thick mud, the rain falling heavier now. He could just make out the figure of Gilly in the driving rain, kneeling next to the stricken calf, half dead with exhaustion at the bottom of the bank. The river was rising quickly now, a torrent of anger, ready to sweep anything away in its temper.

“Can you throw me the rope?” shouted Jonny, his voice whipped away like so many branches in the torrent.

They had noticed the cow, standing alone and obviously distressed by the river bank as they checked on the live-stock around the farm. Grabbing some rope, they ran over to investigate. Seeing the calf, Gilly had grabbed one end of the rope and Jonny had lowered her down the steep bank. The mud and rain combined had taken its toll on the calf. She had tried and tried to navigate the slope while her mother bellowed, but she finally succumbed, sadly lying down next to the rising tide of spite that was the river.

Gilly looped the free end of the rope and began to circle it around her head like a cow-boy. Sensing the rising tide of water, praying the rope would reach its target, she let go. In slow motion the loops unfurled and the rope stretched out, reaching Jonny who grappled wildly in the mud to stop its slithering retreat back down the slope.

“Got it!” He screamed to her.

Slipping and sliding in the mud, Jonny made his way back to the jeep where he secured the rope to the tow bar.  But he was worried. Supposing he started pulling the calf and Gilly up, unable to hear their cries for him to stop if they were hurting or worse, if one or other had fallen off the rope into the river.

Just then a great commotion was heard from above and a helicopter came in to view. The cow, so loyal to her calf, could take no more and galloped toward the nearby tree line. From the helicopter, on a line attached to a secure harness, came a soldier. Once lowered next to Jonny he handed over a radio hand-set and shouted assertively;

“Sir, I will need you to pull the rope on my command”.

With that he signalled to the helicopter pilot to lower him down to Gilly and the calf. Once Jonny had received the order to start the jeep he commenced driving slowly away from the bank. Shortly Gilly, the calf and the soldier came into view, stumbling and swinging slightly on the lines. Jonny leapt out of the jeep hurrying back to the bank, formulating the words of thanks he would try to express, but the soldier was already aloft, being winched back up onto helicopter. He held up an arm in a gesture of farewell as the helicopter banked away over the trees. 

The cow had started a wary return to the bank, and once the calf was back on her feet, she hobble unsteadily to her mother’s side for a comforting feed and groom. All were safe as Jonny hugged Gilly before climbing back in the jeep to continue their farm inspection.

I stood up and glanced around, embarrassed that someone might have witnessed my play. No one else in the garden…I was relieved. I washed my plastic farm animals off in the puddle I was playing in, the helicopter, the soldier and even Gilly and Jonny just being figments of my imagination, required no aftercare.

Despite my embarrassment I would often travel to these fantasy lands at the age of eight, with my imaginary friends. We would visit these happy, peaceful places where no-one else knows….but I can still recall.