A Milking Fool

Bubba Lee! Ya get over heah and sit down. Ya shouldn’t be up like that ‘till the am-blance people check ya out!” Maude started lecturing him as soon as she noticed his eyes were open and he breathing was normal. “I done tolt him that Maude. But, ya know Bubba,” Willy said with a slight smile, which gave Maude the impression he was proud of Bubba’s strength. The two men made their way to the porch, where Bubba took a seat on the edge.

I . . . I . . . I am okay . . . Maude,” Bubba said with slurred words. “Bubba Lee. Ya ain’t alright. Ya been hut and are jus’ covered in blood. What in the Sam’s Hill happened to ya?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even ‘member goin’ to the barn. I jus’ woke up and there was Willy a-leanin’ over me in that old army coat of his. I done thought I was back in the war and been shot.”

“I didn’t mean to scare ya Bubba. But, I like this coat and I’ve had hit fer years.” As Willy spoke, he took out his Deadman chewin’ tobacco and stuffed his right cheek full. Working his cud, he turned and let a stream of brown juice fly toward an old rooster. Missing the bird, he chuckled, and said, “Bubba, I ‘spect you got a concussion and I know a tored scalp. Them am-blance people is gonna take ya in fer some tests, a bit of stitchin’, and maybe a over night stay at the ‘Possum Holler Ree-ginal Horse-pital.”

“Hog warsh. I hain’t a spendin’ no night at no dang med-kal fa-sill-eye-tee. I got some deer huntin’ to do ‘round heah.”

Well, they were still discussing the need for Bubba to spend the night at the hospital with the ambulance drove up into the driveway, right beside Willy’s old pick-em’up truck. The dust hadn’t even settled before two big fat men in white clothes were running toward the porch with a bouncing litter between them. Noticing the blood on Bubba’s clothes, their advanced training kicked in. In less than two minutes, the man was wired up like Frankenstein in one of them old spooky black and white movies.

Bubba attempted to maintain some dignity throughout the whole process, but finally in the end, he just plain gave up. Before you say the names of all of Grandma Patton’s kids, Bubba, the two fat men and the ambulance were gone. A deathly silence filled the air, along with a great deal of dust.

Finally, after about five minutes, Willy spoke, “He’ll be ok Maude. I treated hunnerds of men durin’ the war and ya can tell. I ‘spect he’ll be back in the mornin’ full of vinegar and a-raisin’ stink to go huntin’. Ya know Bubba Lee. But, I am wonnerin’ what happened. I mean, I guess that old cow done kicked the boy.”

“Willy Eugene, are ya shore he’s a-gonna be ok? I mean, there wasn’t nothin’ serious ‘bout that injury?” Willy looked at Maude as she spoke and felt a flutter as he realized how much she loved Bubba. “Maude, trust me. He will be jus’ fine. He’ll have a dandy of a headache fer a spell and his vision might be messed up a bit, but he’ll live.”
“Willy, it’s a shame what a full grown up man will do to avoid goin’ to a store jus’ so he can hunt a deer. I know he did that on purpose to keep from a-takin’ me. I’ll bet ya a thousand dollars, he tolt that old cow to kick ‘em.” Maude’s face was turning red and her eyes were growing in size.

Willy, having grown up with both Bubba and Maude, didn’t say a word. Now that things were back to normal, he walked to this truck. He started it and drove from the driveway he could still hear Maude yelling about Bubba getting outta goin’ to town so he could hunt. Some things, well, they just never change.

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