by Amy Lillard
“Not until you have that bulb replaced,” Kappy returned.
“Fuse,” Edie corrected.
“Right.”
The radio in Edie’s car had gone out not long ago. And though Kappy didn’t know two cents’ worth about the details, she knew that it wouldn’t work.
Edie hung her head out the car window once more. “I can’t see anything but cars,” she complained. “A whole bunch of cars.” She gave the steering wheel a quick pound. “We are going to be so late.”
But being late wasn’t the real problem. It was how Jimmy would react to the fact that they were late that was potentially troublesome.
“Maybe he’ll be okay,” Kappy murmured. She was trying to be encouraging, but Edie just shook her head.
“You weren’t with me the last time.” She shook her head some more. “He was not happy.”
“Maybe you should leave a little earlier,” Kappy suggested.
“Like I have any control over this.” She waved a hand toward the long line of cars.
True, with this sort of delay there was no way anyone was getting anywhere on time for a while.
“Why don’t you call Mose and tell him? Maybe if he prepares Jimmy, it won’t be such a surprise to his system.”
Edie tossed her an appreciative look. “Hey. That’s not a half-bad idea.” She fished her phone out of her purse and pulled up the number, setting the phone to call before she tossed it to Kappy. “You tell him.”
Kappy frowned, but couldn’t say anything as Mose picked up the phone at his bait shop.
They inched forward as Kappy explained the situation to Mose. The man was more than happy to help. Kappy promised to be there as soon as possible, then handed the phone back to Edie.
“Thanks,” Edie said, and pushed on the screen, effectively hanging up.
“With any luck that will help him.”
Edie nodded. “With any luck,” she repeated. Though Kappy knew what she was thinking. They were backed up so badly, it was going to be a while before they got past and on the other side of whatever had happened.
“I really hope no one’s hurt,” Kappy murmured. She hadn’t planned on being gone this long. At the speed they were going and the fact that they would have to most likely take an alternate route back home, they could be gone over an hour. She said a quick prayer that God would help direct Elmer’s mischievous puppy steps so that he would stay in the yard today and not dig his way out.
Then she immediately felt a little guilty. With all the problems in the world, she shouldn’t take up God’s time with her dog’s bad habits.
“I think we’re moving a little faster now,” Edie said, but Kappy couldn’t tell. “I wish I knew what was going on up there.”
“I don’t know,” Kappy murmured. With the way traffic was lined up and the number of cars barely inching forward, Kappy had a feeling whatever was ahead of them was pretty bad indeed.
But Edie was getting impatient. Kappy had grown used to most of Edie’s Englisch habits, but her urge to just . . . go was not one of them.
“We’ll get there soon enough.”
Edie shot her a look. “You sound like my mother when you say things like that.”
Kappy sniffed and smoothed her hand over her apron. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Edie laughed, shook her head, and turned her attention back to the road. “I really do think we’re moving better now.”
Not knowing how else to respond, Kappy nodded.
“Look.” Edie pointed to a spot up ahead.
Kappy saw the flashing lights of multiple emergency vehicles, but not what they were attending. Kappy counted three police cars, a fire truck, and two ambulances. “That looks serious.”
Oddly enough, the cars were moving a bit quicker, slowed only by the other drivers craning their heads around to see everything of the accident.
And Kappy was certain of that now. This was definitely an accident.
“Maybe one of those big trucks turned over,” she said.
“Maybe,” Edie murmured, still trying to see what was in front of them.
Finally, they got close enough to see.
The yellow buggy was almost unrecognizable. Just the sight of it made Kappy gasp. That and the acrid smell of vinegar that rent the air. The buggy was turned over onto one side and off in the ditch. The back wheel that was up in the air was cracked in half, tilted like one of those crazy rides at the county fair. The buggy itself . . . well, Kappy only knew what it was because of its distinctive color.
“Holy cow,” Edie breathed.
“You can say that again.”
Only the gravity of the situation kept Edie from actually repeating it. Having traveled in carriages most of their lives, they both knew: Whoever had been in that carriage was hurt. Badly. If not—
“What is that smell?” Edie asked, pulling the wide neck of her shirt up to cover her mouth.
“Vinegar, I suppose.” At least that was what it smelled like. But why would this particular spot in the road smell any different?
“From what?”
“Maybe the other vehicle was a vinegar truck?” Kappy speculated.
Edie rolled her eyes. “There is no such thing as a vinegar truck.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
But Edie had moved on to other issues. “Is that glass on the road?” She pointed in front of them where something sparkled like a diamond in the sun.
“I guess.” What else could it be?
“And . . .” Edie leaned over her steering wheel, squinting ahead of them as if that could help her see better. “Are those pickles?” She pointed.
Stacked on the side of the road were several wooden cases, their contents a mystery except for the jars and jars of pickles littered around. Some had been turned upright, but still others lay willy-nilly as if they had been tossed aside. Or flung out when the car or whatever it was rammed into the buggy. And not just any pickles, but the white church pickles Big Valley was known for. Kappy had never thought twice about the white pickles and the white cucumbers used to make them, but here with them lying all over the road and off in the grass, some in jars and others not . . . well, they were downright ghostly.
“That looks really bad,” Kappy said. There was no horse to be seen. And no other car. Or even a vinegar truck. Edie had already knocked down Kappy’s truck theory, which quickly explained why there wasn’t one. The other car could have already been towed. And the horse . . . ? If the horse had managed to make it through the crash, someone could have already taken it to the large-animal vet clinic. But from the looks of the carriage . . .
“You don’t think . . .” Edie turned wide eyes to Kappy.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know who it belongs to?”
They were almost past now. Kappy turned in her seat to look behind them. Cars still lined the highway as far as she could see. Vinegar, pickles, wooden crates. “It has to be Jonah Esh.”
Edie whirled around as if to get a better look.
“Turn around!” Kappy yelled. Edie’s driving was bad enough without her being distracted by pickles and broken buggies.
“Jonah Esh is just a kid.”
“He was a kid when you left. He’s seventeen or eighteen now.” If she was remembering right.
“And his family still makes pickles?”
“His mother has turned it into an empire,” Kappy said with a quick nod.
“A pickle empire?” Edie asked.
“Something like that.” Finally, they were through the wreckage. Kappy was glad. Just the sight of all those pickles and that broken carriage was enough to give her chills.
Lord, please take care of those involved. Heal them and watch over them. Amen.
As far as prayers went it was quick and to the point, but she figured the victims in the accident could use every prayer they could get.
The sentiment was proven as the emergency workers loaded a stretcher into the back of one of the amb
ulances. Kappy shivered.
“That was a lot of pickles.” Edie glanced in her rearview mirror as if checking for pickles once again. They were a bit eerie-looking, almost ghostly white against the darkness of the road.
“Jah,” Kappy whispered and faced front once again. She was beginning to get a little sick to her stomach turned around like that and moving at faster than a buggy pace. Or maybe it was the stench of vinegar.
“I’m sure what happened will be all over the valley by dark.”
“Maybe,” Kappy said. She closed her eyes, almost haunted by the sight of the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance, pickles lying all over the place, and the strong smell of vinegar. And the broken buggy. Don’t forget that.
A thoughtful silence fell between them as they continued toward Mose Peachey’s bait shop.
* * *
“We are never going to make it now.” Edie flipped one hand at the dash clock. They should have been at the shop ten minutes ago and they had at least five minutes left before they arrived. Well, she thought anyway. She wasn’t practiced at determining arrival times in cars.
“Maybe he’ll be okay.”
That was the thing about Jimmy. He was as sweet as they came, but things could set him off. Kappy wasn’t sure why some things bothered him more than others, like why he wouldn’t eat red foods, but he was trying. Ever since his mother died, things had been a little harder for him, but he was giving it a huge effort, for Edie’s sake. Kappy was just glad that Edie had decided to stay in Blue Sky, allowing Jimmy to do the same.
Despite Jimmy’s usually positive and amicable attitude, Kappy could tell that Edie was concerned. Amicable. That was another one from her word-a-day calendar. It meant friendly, and that was one word that fit Jimmy Peachey for sure.
“Oh, no.” The car started to slow as Edie whispered the words.
“What?” Kappy glanced at the dashboard as if somehow she could determine the problem, but Edie wasn’t staring at the car’s gauges, she was looking ahead, at the bait shop’s gravel parking lot.
Jimmy was out front, pacing back and forth, shaking his head. In his hands he held the fob on the alert necklace he wore in case of emergencies. Even from this distance, Kappy could tell that he wore a frown of worry.
Edie pulled the car into the lot, a little too quickly as far as Kappy was concerned, but she knew that Edie wanted to get to her brother as soon as possible. Edie might be a little flighty, but Kappy knew she loved Jimmy above all else.
She shoved the gearshift into park and hopped out of the car with it still running. “Jimmy. Hey, Jimmy.”
He stopped pacing and lifted his head, pinning his sister with a hard gray stare. “Where have you been?”
“There was an accident on the highway. Are you ready to go home?”
“Accident?” His gaze swung wildly around as if making sure everything in their corner of the world was still intact.
“Yeah, of course.” Edie’s tone was offhanded. She was trying to downplay the emotions and get Jimmy into the car without a meltdown. Whether she would be successful or not still remained to be seen.
Jimmy held up the fob. “Do you know how many times I almost pushed this button? This one right here. Do you know?”
“You didn’t push it, though, right?”
“Five times.” He held up his fingers to emphasize his point.
“But you didn’t?” Edie asked again.
“When Mamm . . . when Mamm, you told me that I needed to push it. I thought I would have to push it again.” Tears welled in his eyes, but whatever anger he had drained from him. “You worried me.”
Edie reached for him, then remembering he didn’t like to be touched, she lowered her hands to her sides. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
“I thought you were . . . I almost pushed the button five times.”
“I know. But I’m here now. Are you ready to go home?”
He looked from his sister to where Kappy waited in the car. “Now?”
Edie smiled with apparent relief. “Yes. Now.”
Jimmy nodded. “Jah. Okay.” He started toward the car, then stopped and captured the alert fob in his grasp once again. “But next time you’re late, I’m pushing it. How else is anyone going to know if something happens to you?”
