Sometimes You're the Windshield, Sometimes You're the Bug

A few years ago, when living in Branson, Missouri, former Mrs. Bagley and I were awakened early on a Saturday morning by the crack of thunder, which sounded like the U.S. Calvary had discharged a battery of cannon from our rooftop. A monsoon like rain followed on the heels of the thunder and began soaking the ground.

I lay in bed, on my back, bug-eyed, staring at the ceiling until sometime after 4:00 am, when I finally drifted off to sleep. Fifteen minutes after drifting off, my heart was jump-started by the annoying screech of our alarm clock, and with just three hours of sleep I began getting ready for the family trek to the Kansas City International Airport to pick up eldest son, who was flying in from a vacation out west.

By six o-clock, braving the pouring rain, I ran out to our car (we lived in an apartment and didn’t have a garage) and discovered I’d left the driver’s window down the day before. Dashing madly back into the apartment, I grabbed an armload of towels, bolted back through the downpour and piled the towels on the seat. You know, it’s amazing how much water a car seat can hold—I went through three armloads of towels before I could sit in the car without soaking my britches.

Finally, we drove off toward Kansas City, but we didn’t get far. The dirt road leading from our apartment to a main road crossed a hollow (pronounced holler in Southern English), and the heavy rainfall had created a wide, fast moving creek that traversed the road at the bottom of said hollow. Rather than risking our lives by fording the swift moving creek (in the Ozarks, every year people die when trying to cross the powerful waters that travel through the hollows), I turned the car around, and we went back to our humble abode.

I was able to phoned eldest son to tell him that unless, like Moses, I could part the waters, we would be late to pick him up. He was instructed to sit tight once he got off of the plane.

Well, we were an hour and a half late arriving to KC International, and eldest child, impatiently tapping the sidewalk with his foot, was outside the terminal, waiting for us. We loaded his luggage, he climbed in to the car, and we headed home.

We’d not been on the road very long when I could feel sleep deprivation rearing its ugly head, so I pulled to side of the road to let ex-wife relieve me of my driving duties. Almost as soon as I sat my hind quarters down on the passenger’s side of the front seat I fell asleep.

An hour or so later I was roused from my deep slumber when the words, “OH NO!” screeched forth from former wife’s lips, soon followed by a horrendous bang of something striking the driver’s side of our new car.

On the two lane highway were traveling a tow truck, coming in the opposite direction, was towing a motor coach. Just before we passed each other a set of dual wheels from the rear axel of the motor home came off and rolled, at about 60 mph, directly toward our car. Ex-wife swerved in time to avoid a head-on collision with the tires but the free-wheeling dualies did smack our left front fender.

We pulled off to the side of the road to inspect the damage. It was obvious our car was inoperable, leaving us stranded in the little Missouri town of Clinton, which had no rental car companies anywhere in the vincinity.

One of the officers at the scene of the wreck offered to take us to a restaurant where we could phone someone in Branson to rescue us. We loaded our belongings into his cruiser, and just before we pulled onto the highway our neighbors drove past us on their way home from a trip. They had noticed the wreck, saw the tow truck pulling away with our automobile, and observed the police car following it onto the highway. Our neighbors didn’t offer us a ride. They didn’t notice us in the officer’s car. It would be another five and a half hours before we finally made it home.

Well, we made a phone call from a pay phone in the lobby of the restaurant, then gathered up our belongings and, resembling a band of vagabonds, traipsed through the restaurant toward a table in a back dingy corner of the establishment.

That’s when the bus boy stopped us. “Homeless people are to wait outside by the back door for leftovers!” he exclaimed.

I don’t remember what I said to that little snot-nosed nymph as I attempted to explain our situation, but I’m sure it wasn’t nice, for he shot me a dirty look and retorted, “Sorrrry, Mr. King of the road!”

Our ride home finally made it to the restaurant and picked us up. It was late in the night, early morning actually, when we arrived in Branson, but before dropping us off, friend refueled his car. While he was doing that I headed over to the cashier to pay for the gas.

While stepping out of his vehicle, I heard something hit ground but was too tired to really pay much attention to it. I should have. One forward step and CRUNCH! I'd stepped on my sunglasses which had fallen from my coat pocket, thus creating the perfect end to a perfect day.

As this adventure wound to a close, middle son tried to cheer me up.

“Don’t worry, dad,” he said. “Life is at its worst just before it gets better.”

“I’ve been waiting for life to get better now for many a year,” was my response.

“Well,” he told me, “maybe we haven’t seen the worst yet.”

That boy was such a comfort.

8 comments:
Peter said...
“maybe we haven’t seen the worst yet.”Now that is a cheering thought isn't it!!!
Monday, April 23, 2007 7:18:00 AM EDT
JunieRose2005 said...
Lol! I love that line, Doug!“maybe we haven’t seen the worst yet.”Great story...but I'm sure NOT a fun day for any of you!Junie
Monday, April 23, 2007 10:22:00 AM EDT
Britmum said...
Wow what a cheery time you had. lol I am glad you can see the funny side though and write about it.Take care xx
Monday, April 23, 2007 2:54:00 PM EDT
Valerie said...
"and that's when i killed the boy, Your Honor."'nuff said.
Monday, April 23, 2007 8:34:00 PM EDT
cmk said...
Valerie said it all...
Tuesday, April 24, 2007 4:40:00 PM EDT
Rachel said...
What an adventure Doug!! Well, maybe it didn't seem like an adventure then! You sure had one rotten day. Seems like your son was looking for that silver lining somehow! Glad you didn't hurt him!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007 9:33:00 PM EDT
4evergapeach said...
Do you listen to country music Doug? There's a song that describes that day...."If your going through Hell" Here's the first verse:Well, you know those times when you feel like There's a sign there on your back.Says: "I don't mind if you kick me; "Seems like everybody has."Things go from bad to worse:You think they can't get worse than that an' then they do.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007 10:54:00 PM EDT
Melanie said...
Great words of wisdom. I will remember that the next time I'm in the depths of despair. Life is getting better for you Doug, isn't it?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007 12:03:00 PM EDT