I ran over a kid and dashed off.

It happened years ago.  I was a traveling salesman on one of my many trips.  On that day, I had just closed a deal over lunch in one city and my next appointment was in another town about an hour drive southbound.  My appointment was scheduled for 4pm and I had two hours to spend.  So, it was not a rush journey and I was well fed, high spirited for having closed a decent sales and generally feeling on top of the world.

A little over half an hour into my journey, I was entering a small town.  The road leading to that town was slightly sloped downhill and gently curved.  I was careful not to speed as the area just before the town was populated with farmers.  The farmers and their families as well as the farm animals have the propensity to loiter very close to the road shoulders.  I have always had the anxiety of one of them stumbling onto the road and into my way.  Disturbing thoughts, no doubt, but it kept me on my toes every time.

And so it happened.  At a curved downward slope, the kid was sleeping besides its mother when all of a sudden it just up and swaggered out onto the road and smack right into my front bumper.  .  

Bang! A jolt. And a bump was all I felt.

Instinctively I pressed on the gas and dashed away.  In a blink, the town was behind me.  The shock made me press on.  It wasn’t until the next town that I pulled over at a lay by store.  Slowly, I checked the rearview mirror to make sure no one followed.  

With shaking hands, I covered my face and rested on the steering wheel for a long while.  All I remembered was calming myself down with long deep breath. 

I needed coffee.  And I needed a smoke.  

Steadying my limbs and body, I turned off the ignition and got out of the car.  Strangely, despite the fear and guilt, I went to check for damages to the car.  Nothing major.  A dent in bumper, broken license plate was about it.  I noticed some hair wedged in the crack of the license plate.  I removed those, balled it up and dumped it into the rubbish bin.  I went around the back to see if there was any oil leak.  Nope.  With some relieve, I entered the store for my caffeine and nicotine therapy.

Between sips of warm aromatic coffee and swirls of smoke tendrils from my trembling fingers, the scene came vividly back to me.  I remembered looking at the rear-view mirror and saw it spinning on its back with four tiny legs pointing upward.  I said to myself, “Damn!  Should have stopped and picked it up.  It would have made a nice barbecue.”

I arrived a tad late for my appointment but my customer was not angry with me – probably sensing my shock from the paleness of my face.  All he said was, “What happened?”

I smiled nervously and narrated to him the whole story.  He put his hand on my shoulder, looked into my eyes and said, “I’ve got a big order for you.  Don’t worry.  But first, let me buy a drink to freshen you up.”