Accident Prone: A Novel

by Kelly M. Logue

weed-wacker too if that’s alright,” the Duke said. He almost hated to ask; that seem like an extravagant expensive to him. Rather than dressing him down, O’Grady smiled, and said “Your budget Duke; spend it on whatever you need.”

  O’Grady had put an extraordinary amount of trust in him, and the guilt the Duke felt in that moment sent a shiver down his spine.

  Sunday was O’Grady’s busiest day, even though only a handful of people showed up for services. Sunday also happened to be the Duke’s day off. O’Grady hinted again that he’d really like to see him for Sunday services, but the Duke just couldn’t bring himself to go. He woke up early, did some wash, and then tried to watch a little football on the small black and white TV that Miller had left behind in his room.

  The Duke couldn’t believe it was already mid-September. The summer had flown by. The game really wasn’t holding his interest. It was too nice of a day. The heat had died down and now the weather was pleasantly mild.

  With a fresh layer of sun screen on his neck, the ten gallon hat perched on his head, and the weed-wacker at his side, the Duke decided to tame wild grass that sprouted up between the grave stones. He spent a pleasant afternoon trimming the lawn, sharpening it into fine detail. It was probably the best day of his life.

  The days fell into a routine. The Duke worked on no real set schedule, but put in a full day none the less— often being so absorbed in his work that he would skip lunch. Since he was working so hard, (and not drinking anything harder than a couple of beers) he found to his surprise that he was starting to get in shape again. On nights when O’Grady didn’t have Church services, he and the Duke would work on the truck. O’Grady did most of the work and the Duke watched, but neither seemed to mind. If they weren’t working on the truck, then they sat on the patio drinking a couple of beers, sometimes talking, sometimes not.

  Much to the Duke’s great delight, O’Grady asked him if he wanted to watch Monday Night Football. The Duke had never had anyone to watch football with him. Ruthie always insisted that the boy had to go to bed early on school nights. As a favor to the boy, on Monday Nights, the Duke would crank the TV volume full blast so that the boy could hear the game in his room. Even though the boy never thanked him for that, the Duke knew he had been grateful. So it was that the Duke and O’Grady had a grand old time watching football in the Church office on a medium sized color TV set that sat on top of a rolling cart.

  It took almost three months to get his new social security card. Apparently the federal government was a bit slower than the state government when it came to these things. Since the Duke was now legal to work, O’Grady arranged a meeting with the bishop for the following month. In the meantime, O’Grady drove him down to the DMV so he could a get a license. Much to his annoyance, the Commie clerk at the DMV told the Duke he would have come back at another time to retake his road test since there was no record of him ever having a license.

  O’Grady intervened then, using whatever power the priesthood gave him, and convinced the clerk to allow the Duke to take his road test later that day.

  O’Grady took him to lunch, and the Duke couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that O’Grady in his priestly garb had said to clerk: “Bless you child.” and then made the sign of the cross as they left. O’Grady had to admit the whole thing must have seemed surreal to everyone at the DMV.

  The Duke passed the road test. There never was any doubt. Not in the Duke’s mind anyway. He had always been a careful and safe driver, even while under the influence. The only thing he was marked down for driving too slow. The Duke didn’t see this as a flaw; he liked to take his time.

  O’Grady parked the station wagon in front of the church. He got out. The Duke got out, and watched as the old priest ran behind the Church. He returned a couple of minutes later driving the truck. O’Grady slid over to the passenger side and called out the window.

  “She’s all fixed up and got a full tank of gas. Let’s go, pilgrim.”

  The Duke didn’t need any further invitation. He slid in behind the driver’s seat, and took off. They drove for hours with the radio blaring county and western music. What a sight they must of made. The priest and the cowboy.

  Bishop Piper was the spitting image of Bing Crosby from the film Going My Way. He was at least ten years O’Grady’s junior and spoke with an English accent. The Duke took an instant dislike to him.

  “What’s with the hat,” the Bishop asked. A flash of anger crossed the Duke’s face but his gut told him to keep his mouth shut, so that’s what he did. He took off the hat and held it at his side while the three men walked around the Church.

  “Duke’s been a godsend sir.” O’Grady said, coming quick to the Duke’s defense.

  “Yes, I suppose,” the Bishop said under his breath. Then addressing the Duke he said, “When Father O’Grady told me about you, my first thought was that you were a con man.”

  Again, the Duke held his tongue.

  “I’m glad to see that I have been proven wrong,” Bishop Piper added. This statement was gentler in tone. Regardless, the Duke still thought the Bishop sounded like a snooty prick.

  “I’ve see remarkable improvement here,” Bishop Piper said. Grabbing on the pews, and shaking it. The Duke smiled a smug little smile. He had spent countless hours stabilizing the pews and sanding them down until they looked almost new.

  “Yes sir. Duke has been working really hard to get us up and running.” O’Grady chimed in.

  Bishop Piper sneered as he looked down on at the carpet. The carpet was worn and tattered in several spots. The Duke had wanted to replace the carpet, but new carpet was a little too expensive for his meager budget.

  “Yes well, whose fault was it that it fell into such disrepair to begin with?”

  O’Grady nodded. “I’m sorry sir. That was my responsibility.”

  “This is a house of God, Father O’Grady. If you treat it with respect then our Lord and Savior will shower His reward on us.”

  “Yes sir.” O’Grady said.

  “Still it appears you are on the right track.” Bishop Piper said. He now turned to the Duke. “$75 a week. Too be paid every two weeks. Plus, continued room and board at the Church. That is what we paid Mr. Miller, and that is what we will pay you. Is that acceptable?”

  The Duke nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Continue on your duties then,” the Bishop said, turning his back on the Duke.

  “Father O’Grady, escort me to your office and we will make this matter official.”

  O’Grady and the Bishop started to walk away. Bishop Piper continued to give O’Grady the riot act. “We really must get attendance up at this church, Father. Do you understand? It is an embarrassment...”

  All the Duke could think of was how much he wanted to kill that snooty little mother fucker. The Duke waited until the two men had disappeared into the office, and then grabbed the keys for the truck.

  15 minutes later, he was no longer thirsty. Now, he began to set things in motion, and the Duke knew that soon beautiful chaos would follow.

  He returned later that night. O’Grady was waiting for him outside on the patio.

  “Missed you at dinner.”

  “Sorry. Had to clear my head.”

  O’Grady nodded. “Bishop Piper can be a bit overwhelming. Don’t take it personally. A lot of the bishops are like that. They care more about God than regular people like you and me.”

  O’Grady took a sip of beer. The Duke noticed an unopened bottle waiting for him by the empty long chair.

  “Is something on your mind? Do you want to talk?”

  The Duke shook his head. “Tired. Just want to go to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  The Duke headed toward the Church.

  “Congratulations by the way. You’re official now. You just need to come by and sign some papers in my office tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Night.”

  The next day, the Duke was back to his old self...


  The great idea had sneaked into his mind under the cover of night. An idea so profound that it would make the greatest thinkers of our times green with envy. The Duke would not have been surprised if the good Lord himself was the one who planted the idea in his head. It had the spark of divine inspiration and, the Duke reasoned, not since the invention of fire had there been an idea so revolutionary that mankind would marvel at its brilliance. Not only would the Duke make that Commie little bishop pay, but he would take O'Grady's advice. He would free himself from the petty little concerns of life and revel in the marvelous and scary things that life had to offer. It was win-win and couldn't possibly fail.

  Of course, he would have to play O'Grady for a fool. He liked the priest well enough, but then again the Duke had come to realize that O'Grady was holding him back. O'Grady was trying to turn him into some docile little pussy, but the Duke had bigger plans than working at some crummy little church.

  The Duke marched into O'Grady's office.

  “Well padre, if you got the papers,” The Duke said, “Then I'm ready to sign my life away.” His voice was chipper. He didn't have a care in the world.

  O'Grady checked his watch. “Bit of a late start. It's almost lunchtime...”

  “Well bit of a late night,” the Duke answered without skipping a beat.

  O'Grady handed the Duke a file and showed him where to sign. The Duke took up a pen, and with a grand flourish signed his name big enough that even God himself could read it from the