Reagan had just been elected and the dollar was strong. It truly was morning in America.
Now that he looked a little more presentable, people were more willing to part with their cash. He also told anyone who stopped to listen, that he was a poor fisherman, much like Saint Peter, whose boat had overturned during a storm. All hands were lost except, somehow, he had miraculous been saved and was now trying to earn enough to get back to his wife and son who he hadn’t seen in over five years. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone that the nearest body of water was hundreds of miles of away, but a story well told is money well earned. In about two hours’ time, his cup runneth over.
At the store, he ached for a drink but he stayed true to his mission. The good Lord was giving him a second chance, and the Duke didn’t want to squander the opportunity. He bought the items he needed, and added two Hershey bars and a bottle of Coke to the mix.
Outside he scarfed down the candy bars, not having eaten anything in about two days, and used the curb to pop off the bottle cap to his Coke. The soda was cold, but was a poor substitute for what he really craved.
His next stop was the laundromat the librarian had recommended. Fortunately, the laundromat had a few customers, so the attendant’s focus would not be solely on him. When the attendant wasn’t looking, the Duke went through the lost and found bin. He found some clothes that looked like might fit him, and they smelled clean enough. He bought a laundry bag from a machine that also sold boxes of laundry soap, and loaded up his recently acquired wardrobe. He wanted to take a shower, but realized he had forgotten to buy a towel. There was no towel in the lost and found bin. He sat down and watched the dryers. One had stopped spinning and looked like it had towels in it. He waited a few minutes to see if anyone collected the items. When no one did, the Duke causally opened the dryer and added a couple of the towels to his bag. He didn’t want to take everything, as that might arouse suspicion. No point in being greedy, especially when the Lord was on your side.
The shower cost him almost his entire roll of change. The water was cold, but the soap and shampoo he had bought at the store was a godsend. He let the water wash over him until the shower’s timer ran out. He opened his grocery bag, and took out the toothbrush and paste. He lovingly brushed his teeth in the sink for the first time in nearly four months. When he spat out the last of the toothpaste, he let the water in the sink run. Taking the scissors out of the grocery bag, he began to cut his shaggy hair, cutting it as short as he could. He did a reasonable job - in the front at least. He had no idea what it looked like in the back. He ran the comb through his hair to get rid of any extra clipped hairs, and styled it a bit. The beard was next. He cut it short, so short he didn’t need the comb. He wished that he had bought a razor to shave the beard clean off, but it will do for now.
On his way out, he threw his old clothes into the trash. About the only thing left of his old life were his shoes, and they would be replaced soon enough. He was a new man: a respectable member of society. Soon he would have a new name, a new birthdate, and a fresh start.
What surprised the Duke most was how many people now smiled or waved hello as he walked down the street. These were the same assholes that only yesterday pretended like he didn’t exist. He smiled and waved back—hating them all.
His next stop was a church.
The Duke found an isolated place near the front and pretended to silently pray. He waited. Soon, a priest came around to light some candles and the Duke began to pray in earnest. He spoke clearly and loud enough for the priest to hear.
“Lord,” the Duke began, “I know you like to put good men to the test. But my burden is more than I can bear. Did you have to take everything away from me in that tornado?”
The priest, an old man in his 60s, had stopped to listen. The Duke continued.
“I praise your name Lord, but why must you test my faith? Did you and the Devil make a wager on my poor soul, like you did with your humble servant Job? I lost everything in that tornado— everything but the clothes on my back and this small bag of possessions.”
The priest began to approach. The Duke, a lump in his throat, continued:
“I don’t ask for much Lord, but I am friendless and alone. I have no one to turn to. You took my wife and beautiful son up to heaven. Have I offended thee oh Lord, is that why you sent that mighty wind to punish me?”
“Pardon me,” the priest said tapping him on the shoulder. The Duke looked up.
“I’m sorry, Padre, am I disturbing everyone?” The Duke said. He stood up and gathered up his few meager possessions.
“Wait. Please stay.” The priest said. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m here to help if I can.”
“I don’t want any charity,” the Duke thundered. He did however, sit back down. “I make my own way.”
“There is nothing wrong with charity if you’re need is great…” the priest began.
“Still it seems wrong…” the Duke answered, but his resolve was weakening.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened…”
“Well…” the Duke began.
Later, the Duke had to shake his head. The Lord truly must have been with him that day. His story was both heartfelt and profound. The Duke didn’t normally compare himself to our Lord and Savior, but the two men did have a lot in common. Both had suffered mightily, at the hands of a corrupt society, simply for trying to make mankind better. Not only that, but given the load of bullshit the Duke told the priest that day, the Duke figured he probably could have started his own religion.
“…and now, I can’t even get a job. I lost everything, padre: my social security card, my birth certificate, my driver’s license. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
The priest had been silent the entire time, and nodded as the Duke finished his tale.
“I think you telling me this is no accident.” The priest said. “We can never fully understand God’s will. Believe me, I know. Ten years ago, I was happily married. Then my son was shipped off to Vietnam. And well… neither my wife or I could get over his death. Our marriage ended. She drowned her sorrows in one bar after another. I joined the priesthood to try and find some answers…”
“I’m a veteran myself,” the Duke answered sincerely. “Saw many men die in that terrible war.”
For a time, both men were silent. The priest was first to break the silence.
“I’m Father O’Grady,” the priest said. “If you’re not comfortable calling me Father or Padre, I also answer to the name of Pete.”
“Folks call me the Duke.”
The two men shook hands.
“Duke, listen to me,” the priest said confidentially, “I know you don’t want any charity. What if I were to offer you a job? Doesn’t pay much, maybe $25 a week, but I can offer free room and board. Just until you get back on your feet, you understand.”
“Well,” the Duke hesitated, “What would I have to do?”
“Basically your job duties would be that of a sexton.”
“Sexton?” The Duke said, almost adding what the hell is that, but wisely held his tongue.
“Oh, sorry it’s a fancy way of saying maintenance and custodial services,” the priest answered. “For now it’s unofficial and I will pay you out of my own pocket. But I can speak to the bishop next month and see about making it official. If the bishop approves, you’ll start making a regular salary.”
“What happened to previous guy?”
“Passed on a few months ago. Mr. Miller was getting on in years; it wasn’t much of surprise. Due to his advanced age, he wasn’t able to do much toward the end, so there are a lot of things that fell into disrepair as a result. You can see the church could use some help.”
“Well padre,” the Duke said, “looks like you got yourself a new sexton.”
“Great.” The priest said smiling. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”
“I had a couple of candy bars and a bottle of Coke earlier today.”
&n
bsp; “Hmmm, hardly a meal to put in a day’s work,” The priest said. “It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s see what Harriet has prepared for us.”
Harriet turned out to be a sour faced old biddy that ran the kitchen and also served as the church secretary. Lunch was a bologna sandwich on plain white bread with a minuscule amount of mustard. A few carrots lined the paper plate, rounding out the meal. A glass of water was the drink of choice. It was the best meal Duke had ever eaten in his life. Nothing has ever tasted as good since.
After lunch, Father O’Grady showed him his room. It wasn’t much, and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years, but the Duke now had his own private bathroom complete with shower, and for that he was grateful.
After getting settled (i.e. plopping his laundry bag down on the bed), O’Grady gave him a brief tour of the church. The priest was right; the place was in bad shape. The public bathroom hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time, and graffiti stained most of the stalls. Several of the pews wobbled if you sat down in them. The cemetery out back was overrun with weeds and needed a good mow.
The Duke shook his head. “I hope I didn’t bite off more than I could chew, Padre.”
“At least you have job security,” O’Grady offered.
The two men laughed at that.
O’Grady left to prepare for afternoon confessional services, leaving the Duke to his own devices. It was a nice summer day outside, so the Duke decided to start with the
Accident Prone: A Novel Page 15
