BUGGY WRECK

by bartermn

As I stopped my truck at the crossroads and looked for
traffic, I saw a terrifying sight out my window. My Amish butcher
was standing beside an overturned buggy in the pasture to my right.
I quickly turned off the radio and rolled down my window, hollering
over to him, "Are you alright?"


He waved and yelled back, "It isn't mine."


I shut the truck off and walked over, listening to Joe
explain what happened as I looked at the wreckage.


"My brother-in-law bought a horse that used to live down
this dirt road. He left his child with my Mother and went to the
store in LeRaysville. On the ride back the horse thought it was
going back to it's old house and tried to turn down the dirt road.
Henry yanked on the reins to turn back onto the main road and
the buggy's wheels skidded in the dirt. The horse ended up in
the ditch with just a few scrapes and bruises, Henry didn't
get hurt at all. He's lucky his little girl was at Mom's. It
happened last night and I'm just waiting for Henry and his father's
team of horses to upright it. They should be here any minute."


The buggy sure did get hurt though. It's top was torn
half-way off and the windshield was in pieces in the grass. I
glanced inside and saw signs of the English everywhere, sunglasses,
a pine scented deodorizer, and a Bic lighter. Joe and I
accessed the damage of the three thousand dollar buggy. It's wooden
roof supports all were cracked, the heavy vinal covering
torn. The bench seat was dislodged from the flooring and layed
kitty-corner to the interior. Joe told me the worst part would be
rebuilding the framework for the windshield, because of the
intricate shape of it.


I wished him luck and continued on to the homestead. I
started to tell Gin about it but she had already seen the wreckage
and heard all about it from Mrs. Mast, the owner's mother, when
she had bought donuts from her at her roadside bakery stand.
News sure does travel fast around these parts.