Part 6
The bag rose in a technician’s hand. His colleague opened a fresh kit while Beth gave a short series of instructions, each answered before the next began. Daniel moved down beside Poppy’s head, keeping clear of her feet.
Abby started toward them. The deputy caught her attention and guided her back to the open gate, where she could speak without getting in the team’s way. Ruth stood close over her daughter, her legs trembling.
“Where do you need me?” Daniel asked.
Beth checked the calf’s breathing. “Here. Keep talking while we work.”
Poppy’s eyelid had lowered until he could see only a narrow glint beneath it. Her trunk searched the dirt once, then came to rest against his boot. He placed his hand lightly beside her eye.
“Poppy. Listen a minute. I’ve got Abby right over there. You’ve got your mother here.” He swallowed and tried again. “Everybody’s still with you.”
Ruth touched her daughter’s shoulder, lifted her trunk to let Beth work, then reached down again. Daniel watched the enormous feet beside him remain planted. Whatever the cow understood, she was allowing the people access to the calf lying beneath her.
From the gate, Abby began telling Poppy about a pumpkin.
“You remember that one by the photograph stand? They wanted you to stand next to it. You stepped right on it, and then you wouldn’t let anybody take the pieces away.”
Her voice caught, and she took a breath before continuing. She described a busload of younger schoolchildren laughing when Poppy sprayed water over herself. Then she addressed Ruth, reminding her of the winter mornings when the hose froze and she and her mother carried water to the trough.
Daniel kept his own words small enough not to interrupt hers. There were no assurances he could honestly give. He told Poppy that his hand was still there, that Beth was checking her side, that the bucket beside the gate had water in it.
The veterinarian leaned close to listen again. “You’ve done the hard part, sweetheart. Let us get you through this bit.”
Minutes passed with nobody looking at a clock. Daniel became aware of dirt pressing through his trouser knee, a fly on his neck, the faint pressure of Poppy’s trunk against his boot. When that pressure increased, he looked up.
One technician had noticed a change too. Beth held up a hand for silence and listened again. Ruth bent closer and rested her trunk across the calf’s back, barely pressing.
Poppy drew a shaky breath.
Then she raised her head a few inches.
Abby made a startled sound and put both hands to her face. Daniel didn’t move. He watched Beth check the pulse once more, wait, and check it again.
“Better,” she said at last. “We still have a long way to go. Nobody rushes her.”
For most of the next hour, the people in the pasture remained where the work required them. Bell walked back to his pickup and sat in the open doorway, staring between his boots. The deputy followed and spoke to him quietly enough that Daniel couldn’t hear.
The shade lengthened across the dry ground. Poppy stayed down while the fluids ran; her mother stood beside her, occasionally testing the air. A dog barked near the old office, and Ruth turned so abruptly that everyone stopped. The barking ended before she took a step.
As daylight weakened, Beth asked Abby to find more clean hay. The girl returned from the feed room with what she could carry. Ruth reached toward the bundle first, and Abby hesitated before offering it.
The cow took part of the hay. She gathered it with her trunk and lowered it to Poppy, who began chewing slowly without getting up. Daniel watched a mouthful disappear, then another.
Only then did he lift his camera.
He framed the feeding, keeping the injured band out of the center of the image. He recorded Abby at the gate when Ruth brushed the blue cotton on her wrist again. He caught Beth taking a brief rest on her heels, eyes closed, one hand still resting close to the calf.
Animal-control staff arrived with additional equipment and specialist transport. The lane filled with low voices, doors closing carefully, questions that couldn’t be postponed much longer. The elephants needed somewhere safe. So did the other animals still on the property. Further orders, examinations, holding space, and transport would all have to be arranged.
For Poppy, the next requirement was simply getting up.
Beth waited until the treatment had given the calf the best chance she could offer. The crew constructed a passage of temporary panels leading to a reinforced transport trailer. Ruth watched them, then shifted a little away from Poppy and touched her shoulder.
The calf pushed against the ground. Her front end rose while her hind legs struggled to come beneath her. She fell back to her knees before she could finish.
Abby whispered encouragement from the side. Daniel waited for Beth to tell him whether there was anything useful he could do. On the next attempt, Poppy got a little higher and sank down again, breathing hard.
Ruth moved close enough for the calf to brace against her. Poppy tried a third time, straightening her legs in uncertain stages.
This time she stayed upright.
Nobody cheered. Beth watched her balance, and the others followed her example. The calf seemed unsure what to do with a body that could shift without dragging the tire along with it.
Ruth took a small step away. Poppy followed.
On the next step her legs crossed awkwardly, and Daniel reached out before Beth caught his wrist. She held him back gently, her attention on the calf.
“Give her a second to work it out.”
Poppy corrected her footing. Ruth moved again, stopping after a few steps to wait. Along the temporary passage, mother and calf advanced at the pace the smaller animal could manage.
The trailer ramp stopped Poppy. She inspected its edge with her trunk while the crew stood clear. Inside, the light was dim, and the clean floor carried unfamiliar smells.
Ruth went up first. From the top she turned enough to reach back toward her daughter, touching her face. Poppy leaned forward and began to lift a foot.
A sharp clatter came from the feed room behind them.
Daniel turned. An officer had opened the stiff door, jolting something loose beside the high window overlooking the divider. A small trail camera lay on the ground with a length of perished mounting strap still attached.
Abby stared at it. All the color left her face. “That’s Mom’s. She put it up where he wouldn’t see.” She looked toward the back fence. “She kept that thing running all winter…”
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