Horse Before The Cart
Next morning Ed managed to find his grandfather's whip. He didn't realize the old man used it for sound, not as a
switch. When the routine of last evening repeated, Ed thwacked the mare lightly on her hindquarters. Instead
of becoming compliant, she kicked back a leg nearly grazing his nose. "So you want to play rough, huh?" He
remarked. Standing back, he whipped the old mare smartly across the rump. Only then did Ed realize he had no
idea how he was going to direct the horse once he got her moving. She bounded from her stall and ran at a gallop,
or as close to one as her old legs could muster, around the pasture before pausing by the creek to take a long, cool
drink.
What next? he wondered as he stood in the barn door. Then falshed what he regarded at the moment as a
brilliant idea. In a corner of the barn he glimpsed the stripped down cart his grandfather once used to run farm
errands. "All I need is get the horse before the cart," he muttered, raising its poles over his shoulders.
He pulled the cart across the pasture to the spot the mare was munching wildflowers.
His mother had come out on the porch to dust a rug. Seeing the spectacle near the barn, she walked over to watch.
"Now what?" she asked, leaning against the white rail fence.
Ed stopped behind the horse to position the cart. When he did, the mare took a couple steps forward. A
second try brought the same result. The sceen repeated again and again until the horse and would-be equestrian had
made their way across the pasture. He happened to glance up and saw his mother at the gate laughing quietly.
"What is the world are you doing?" she asked.
"I thought I'd hitch the cart to the horse," Ed replied, blushing deeply.
"Looks like you're the one pulling the cart!" she giggled.
Ignoring her remark he bent once more to move the cart in place. This time the old mare held her ground.
"Look out!" his mother called.
For what? he wondered. It was already too late. The mare chose this moment to raise her tail and pop
out several globes of fresh manure, the last of which found the top of his straw hat.
"You did that on purpose," he accused, swiping his hat on the grass. The mare snorted and turned away.
"Don't blame the horse. When you're at the business end, you need to watch for road apples. Get back before
she takes a notion to pee on you."
Ed heeded his mother's advice in the nick of time. The stubborn old mare, either of necessity or to make a point,
lifted her tail again, this time dousing the ground where he'd been standing.
"Maybe you'd better let me show you how," Ruth suggested, opening the gate and striding into the barnyard. She
issued a firm command and the mare backed obediently in place. Ed watched his mother expertly attach reins and
harness. That done, sh hitched the cart and climbed in, snapping the whip in the air and yelling a sharp "Git!"
The horse trotted toward the road until she shouted "whoa," pulling in the reins.
"Hop in boy, If this is what you're gonna do, you've got to learn to do it right!" She moved over on the
worn wood seat to make room. "Watch closely, You'll be bringing us back." "Git!" she called again,
shaking the reins. The horse responded, heading out at a good clip. Ed gazed on the roadside gravel and
weeds flying dizzingly past. |
Tales From Amish Country Volume 2
by Jeffrey Fox
32 pages, paperback
Jeffrey Fox is an award-winning poet from the foothills of Appalachian Ohio. He studied English literature and
graduated from Bowling Green State University (BA, 1973) and the Ohio State University (MA, 1974; PhD, 1980). He
taught composition and technical writing for a time at the Ohio State University. Currently, Jeffrey works as a
budget analyst for the United States Air Force. After a long hiatus, he resumed writing poetry in May 1997.
Several of Jeffrey's poems have been published, and his essays and articles regularly appear in bluegrass music
periodicals. He recently co-authored a book on mountain music, Bluegrass Adventures.
He's currently working on another mountain music book and a pair of novels about life in Amish country. Jeffrey
and his wife, Betty, live in Centerville, Ohio, where they are active in advocacy for children and adults with
developmental disabilities. They have two children, Lisa and Matthew. |
