A DARK ROAD

DRIVING MIZ LUCY

 

Samuel P. Brown was wearing his special 'driving' hat. It was a little beat, lop sided, but he didn't mind. The straw was cracked in lots of places. Part of its charm was it had kept him safe and healthy for a lot of years.

 

He had a long walk to take today and sweated every step of the way. This trip was very meaningful, one he had to take, or let Miz Lucy down. Samuel had taken care of her for fifteen years and was going to care for her today. Cars honked for him to get out of the road, walk on the on the grass island. As soon as traffic eased, he returned to the paved street. The brown burlap bag he was carrying shifted from one hand to the other. His breathing became labored. Instead of slowing down, he walked faster toward the Exxon station. 'Hey, Samuel, the attendant called. 'Come in rest a while. You look bedraggled. Want a cold coke? No charge.' 'Taddy, Mr. Goren.' The coke went down his throat in one big gulp. It burned a little. 'This is your day to take Miz Lucy for a ride, isn't it?' asked Mr. Goren.

 

Samuel burped and some of his Coke bubbled up, ran down one of his three chins. 'Why you ask me that, Mr. Goren?' 'I beg your pardon, Samuel. I was just making conversation. Business ain't so good and I get lonely when no cars come in for long hours at a time and I get poorer every day. Why you walkin' all the way to Miz Lucy's. I can lock the shop and drive you there. What do you say?' Samuel says, 'No, thanks. When I walk, I think about her. She has been my best friend. I bring her things. Want to see what's in my burlap bag? I got her favorite oats from the feed store on route 26. And I got her a sugar plum too. When she finishes eating all my treats, I know just what she will do. She's going to lift her head high, raise her right leg and make an awful noise come out of her rump. That's when I'll hitch her to the cart. I had the crooked wheel fixed for her. My small whip will snap and off we'll go. That's my plan. Mr. Goren, I'm staying with her until after the vet comes and goes. He promised me Miz Lucy won't feel anything. She's going to get sleepy, lay down in her stall and close her eyes forever.
Samuel P. Brown couldn't help but cry. 'I got to go, Mr. Goren or the vet might start without me if I'm a minute late.'

 

It all went as the vet had said it would, except, after Miz Lucy closed her eyes, she opened them again, looked right into Samuel P. Brown's wet eyes, made one last loud rump explosion, neighed and died.

 

Samuel died a little too. Then he walked slowly down the middle of the road back to his house. Not once did anyone tell him to walk on the grass.