Accident Prone: A Novel
Page 14
understand, Valerie was telling me a lot of things that turned out not to be true.”
Marion did not respond. She simply bowed her head. Marion was internally debating whether she was going to tell Gail that she was done. That after Thanksgiving she was going to hand in her resignation. Too much had happened.
“I hope you stay on with us. I really do appreciate all the work you do.”
Marion still did not respond.
“Valerie won’t be coming back,” Gail confessed. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but what the hell, I need to tell somebody and you don’t strike me as someone who is going to gossip.”
Gail took a deep breath.
“Valerie was throwing away files. Frank found a bunch of them in the dumpster about a week ago. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on. Instead of putting the files away on the shelf, Val was just dumping them in her garbage can. Then the janitor would throw them out with the rest of the trash every night.”
For someone who claimed to hate gossip, Gail knew how to dish it out with the best of them.
“I stayed late for the next few days to keep an eye on her. Sure enough, every night before Valerie left, she’d take all the files on her desk and dump them into her trash can.”
“Oh my god!” Marion said. “How long was she...”
“I think since day one,” Gail answered. “I really don’t know. When you came on board, she started blaming you for the missing files. I knew something was up, but didn’t want to tip her off. Valerie was harassing you, right?”
Marion nodded.
“I wish you would have come to me.”
“I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Marion answered.
Gail nodded. Marion wondered if Gail understood. Gail seemed to, but Marion was never very good at reading people.
“Do you think Val will sue you?” Marion asked, wanting to change the subject.
Gail shook her head.
“No... I don’t think so. Valerie is all talk. I don’t think she has the energy or patience to get a lawsuit going. Much easier for her to worm her way into some other job and make someone else’s life miserable.”
Gail signed deeply.
“God what a mess,” Gail said. “What I’m really worried about is Valerie spilling the beans about all the missing files we don’t know about. Some legislator trying to make a name for himself may take up the case as an example of big government inefficacy.
“What are you going to do?” Marion asked out of general concern.
Gail sighed again.
“Well, I’ll have to smooth things out with the director. That will be hard. If I don’t get fired then it will mean a lot of long weekends doing inventory. A lot of praying that we have some of the files backed up on microfilm. A lot of discrete inquiries to the adjusters to see if they will send us replacement copies.”
Gail looked up hopefully.
“You know, I could use some help. And we do need a new file clerk. A job that pays more than what you are making now…”
+++
Marion was glad to be home. She told Gail that she would think about the offer and let her know on Monday. In the meantime, she had asked for the next few days off, which Gail was only too happy to approve. What troubled Marion now was the fact she had lost control. If Frank hadn’t stopped her, Marion was pretty sure she would have killed Val today. Anger had long been her enemy. She managed to keep it under control most of the time, but sometimes it got out, and when it did she became a monster. She prayed that it would never completely consume her. It had nearly done so today, and that scared her.
The doorbell rang.
She opened the door, completely forgetting to look through the peep hole..
As it turned out, her visitor was a flaming bag of shit.
Her only reaction was to sigh— Jesus, the perfect end to a perfect day.
Obviously Val’s stay in the drunk tank had been a short one. She wondered if Val was watching her now. It felt like somebody was out there in the dark.
Marion went back inside, and filled up a paper cup with water from the sink. Outside, she poured the water out and smothered the flames. With a broom and trash can she cleaned up the mess. Then, she went back inside.
As soon as she closed the door, Marion was angry again.
Article X: The Greatest Story Ever Told
It was a dark time for the once great and powerful Duke. He spent most of his days bumming for spare change, then spent most of his nights looking for a warm place to sleep, all the while doing his best to avoid the cops. The Duke couldn’t afford to be arrested. If they shipped back to Seattle his life was over.
What worried him most was the fate of the boy. The boy was lost to the Duke now, he might as well be raised by wolves. That at least would be a better fate than to be pussified by the Commies who ruled the world. That was the real tragedy, the one that no one would ever know. That one brave man was trying to save the world so that the boy that he loved so much could grow up strong and be what a man was supposed to be. The boy was to be his vessel. Under the Duke’s loving tutelage, the boy would have grown up strong. He would have become a great man. A man who could have steered this country back to what our Founding Fathers intended. A place where white Christian men could pursue their rights of life, liberty, and happiness with little regard to what others thought. A land where women knew their place, and the ignorant dark skinned races toil the earth so that good god fearing men could prosper. That was the dream A good dream. But that dream was now shattered because some stupid Injun had tripped and fallen down the stairs.
It was at the lowest point in his life that the good lord decided to intervene and raise up his faithful servant. He was passed out behind a dumpster, having spent the last of his meager funds to get royally hammered, and found even in his dreams he had no peace. In his dream the girl was laughing at him. He woke up screaming. He saw a crow perched on the dumpster. It looked down at him and cawed its mocking laughter at him. The Duke raised a bottle and threw with all his might. The bottle shattered against the metal, and the crow took flight. The Duke settled back, intending to sleep the rest of his sorry life away, but a cop car appeared at the end of the alley and flashed its light. Even in his drunken state, the Duke had enough self-preservation to get up and run away.
He wandered the streets, having no direction, and eventually wound up in front of the public library. In his old life the Duke had no time for books. Other than the Good Book, all other books were just Commie propaganda designed to fill your head with uppity ideas. His daddy had pounded it into him a long ago: “Duke! All you’ll ever need is the Good Book, and your gut, and that will set you straight!”
But his gut was empty now, and his path had taken a turn. A still small voice in his head prompted him to go in, and having nothing better to do, the Duke followed the advice.
Inside the building, he paused to get his bearing, and then headed into the rest room. He discarded his tattered coat in the trash. Then using the some powdered soap from the dispenser and water from the sink, he did his best to make himself look and smell presentable. The last thing he needed was to have the old biddy librarian think he was a vagrant and call the cops.
He found some rubber bands by the copy machine and tied his long shaggy hair back into a pony tail. He looked like a hippy, and figured that a hippy would fit right in with the rest of the Commie freaks currently patronizing the library.
The Duke went in search of the Good Book, but found that he was drawn instead to the microfilm machine. An idea was forming in his head now. Something he had half heard in one of his many visits to the bar. He approached the librarian, who turned out not to be an old biddy, but an old man. Keeping a respectful distance, the Duke politely asked the librarian to show him how the microfilm worked. The librarian nodded.
He told the old librarian he was searching for old newspapers from about 30 or 40 years ago. The librarian showed the Duke where the roles of microf
ilm were kept, and then showed him how to load the roll into the machine. The Duke found the operation relatively simple. The librarian left the Duke to his own devises and returned to the desk. The Duke noticed that the old man had wrinkled his nose a couple of time, particularly when the Duke was leaning in close to watch how the machine worked, but the important thing was the librarian had kept his mouth shut. If it had been a woman, the Duke didn’t think he would have been so lucky. The good Lord was with him this day.
He found what he was looking for almost immediately. There in the obituary section, someone close to his age who had died young. The Duke found a pencil and small piece of paper near the card catalog and scribbled down the name and birthdate. Pretty soon, the Duke thought, he would be a new man.
The Duke wanted a drink badly, but he had to stay focused. He was on a mission now. He thanked the librarian for his help. Then he asked the old man if he knew of any pay showers in the area. He explained that he was a fisherman recently returned from a trip out to sea. The Duke sweeten the pot by joking about how bad he probably smelled. The librarian, put at ease now, happily wrote down the name of a laundromat not too far from the library. The Duke thanked the librarian again, telling him to watch out for bums, and then left before he wore out his welcome.
The Duke reckoned he would need about five to ten dollars if he were to put his plan in action. Thank god Ronald