Accident Prone: A Novel

by Kelly M. Logue

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  “Why doesn’t anyone ever feel sorry for me,” the Duke said. His voiced teetered between sobs and fury. “I’m a good person. I just want someone to care about me.”

  “How’s your nose,” Marion asked. She couldn’t believe she had said it out loud—

  especially now, when this man could snap at any moment.

  “What did you say!” The Duke screamed.

  “I said how... is... your... nose!” Marion screamed back— emphasizing each word.

  “You bitch! You bitch!” The Duke cried.

  “Fuck you!” Marion cried back. She felt the door open slightly.

  Again Marion had underestimated the Duke’s speed. He grabbed her before she could make good her escape. He held her firm by the neck for a moment. Then he pointed the gun at her face. With his now free hand he began to make his way toward her crotch.

  “All right girly, all right,” the Duke was breathing hard, again but his voice had taken on a strange chipper tone. “I was going to save this for later. But I guess now is as good as time as any. Come over here...”

  The Duke switched the gun to his other hand. Then grabbed her by the back of her head, and shoved her face into his lap.

  “Let’s play our little game.” The Duke said, and leaned back in the seat. “Just like I showed you all those years ago.”

  Marion began to unbuckle the Duke’s belt, and unzipped his fly. He was still wearing pink pantyhose, just like he had that first night when the Duke came into her room. The Duke, drunk, had threatened to cut off James’ balls if Marion didn’t do what he wanted. Marion had known the man all of two days. And they had played their “game” off and on for the next four years of her life— always with the same threat hanging over her head.

  Something unexpected happened then. The Duke pissed his pants. It was piss, there was no doubt. The smell wasn’t fooling anyone. Marion disgusted, winced and squirmed away.

  “What did you do?” The Duke cried.

  “Nothing,” Marion protested.

  “You’re trying to make a fool out of me!” The Duke screamed— as urine oozed down his leg.

  He grabbed Marion by her hair and threw her back. This turned out to be just the break Marion was looking for. She grabbed the sunflower seeds then fell ass backwards out of the door. The Duke roared. His voice no longer human.

  Outside, Marion scrambled to her feet. There was still a dull pain in her leg, but adrenaline kicked in. Still even with a boost of adrenaline, she didn’t think she could run very far. Town was still at least a couple of miles away. Her best shot was to disappear in the woods on the other side of the road.

  Marion heard the truck door slam shut. The Duke was shaking his head, and fiddling with his gun. He was trying to look tough, but instead he looked ridiculous. It wasn’t just the pee stains down the front of his blue jeans either. Nor was it the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to zip up his pants or buckle his belt, and all the world could see his little man sticking up in his pink panties. Somewhere along the way he had lost his giant cowboy hat, and his hair slopped unnaturally to one side. Marion realized for the first time that the Duke was wearing a wig. If her life weren’t on the line, if this were happening to anyone else, if she was watching this scene on TV she would have busted up laughing.

  As it stood, though, this little clown needed to be taught a lesson. Specifically a little trick her grandfather had taught her.

  She looked to see if the raven was still on the telephone line. It was. She held the bag of sunflower seeds up hoping she had caught its attention. She heard the raven call out. She heard the excitement its voice.

  “Raven is always watching,” her grandfather had told her. “Always watching, and always hungry.”

  The Duke was closer than she realized. He was so quick. She stumbled back a few paces, and then threw the sunflower seeds at the Dukes feet. The Duke looked at her like she had lost her mind.

  “Injun magic don’t work on us pale faces, girly.” The Duke said. Then he started to laugh.

  His laughter was cut short.

  It was something Injuns known that pale faces don’t. A raven is never alone. It’s always part of a larger tribe. They came, all of them, from the trees— a black cloud of birds. Ravens that weren’t afraid of humans and even less afraid with the promise of food in the harsh Alaskan winter.

  The Duke screamed. His voice was high like a little boy’s— a scream of primal terror.

  The Duke fired blindly up at the black swarm, even as the ravens descended.

  And Marion ran. She ran across the street— as fast as her bum leg could carry her.

  She didn’t make it very far...

  ...before the car hit her.

  + + +

  The Duke finally chased the last of the big birds away. Blood dripped from open wounds on his face and head. The birds had left their mark, craving their obscenities into his flesh with razor like talons, and even sharper beaks.

  Where was the girl! It was only thought he could hold in his head.

  He saw the girl then, even as red blood filled his eyes. His own blood! The girl was lying in the street. Cars had stopped, and several people crowded around her.

  The Duke didn’t care. He took careful aim and pulled the trigger. There was a click. He pulled the trigger again. Again there was nothing but a click. Four more times, no satisfying results. The girl had tricked him. She made him waste all his bullets. The evil bitch had tricked him.

  People started to stare at him now. He was too conspicuous. Now a few of the more curious among them were walking over. If he had any chance of getting even then he’d better go now. He ran for his truck and sped away.

  When the Duke was a safe distance away, he began to cry. Why, he asked himself. Why has God forsaken me?

  God did not answer.

  Article XV: “And She Was…”

  Sam felt like such a fool. He had stood outside the airport for nearly an hour, freezing his balls off, before one of the ticket agents came out and told him that his wife was on the phone.

  “Thank God.” He said, as he hung up the phone.

  Marion was safe— safe and alive. A couple of good Samaritans had driven her to the hospital and stayed with her while she was being admitted.

  Sam cranked the heater up full blast and basked in the warmth as he drove toward the hospital. Allie would join him later. Right now she was holding down the fort. Being the good village wife she was, she was bound and determine to serve their guests a meal before kicking them out of the house.

  It was going to be alright, he thought. He had a lot to be thankful for. A good wife, a healthy baby girl, a nice house, a good paying job, and now his cousin was safe and sound. Except, it wasn’t alright.

  The Duke was still out there.

  Sam felt like an even bigger fool when he showed up to the hospital a few minutes later carrying a big box. There were strangers in Marion’s room: a big burly man who looked like a cop, and a middle-aged blonde hair woman (the cop’s wife? Sam thought). At first Sam thought these were the people who had driven his cousin to the hospital. Sam gave his standard nod which he reserved for white people he didn’t know. Introductions were soon made, and the two strangers turned out to be a couple of Marion’s co-workers. Sam couldn’t imagine how they had found out, but Sam figured his wife had something to do with it. If it was one thing Allie was good at, it was to rally the troops in a time of crisis.

  “Say, Sam,” Frank began. He was holding a paper cup. “Do you know what the number one case of government fraud is...”

  Gail lightly hit the man in the chest. “Frank, stop, he doesn’t want to hear about that.”

  It was only then that Sam realized that he was still holding the big box. He felt like an even bigger fool now, and sat down in one of the empty chairs, putting the box to one side.

  “What’s in the box,” Frank asked. Before Sam could answer, Marion opened her eyes.

  Sam was at her s
ide in an instant.

  “Anything to get out of talking to people, eh cousin,” Sam said. He held her hand. She was so cold.

  “Shut up.” She answered. Her voice was tired and wore out.

  Suddenly, Marion came to life as if she had just been struck by a jolt of electricity. She began thrashing in the bed.

  It was Gail who realized that Marion was trying to sit up. But the tubes hanging in her arms had ensnared her like a spider’s web.

  “Easy, easy,” Gail said soothingly.

  “The Duke!” Marion cried.

  “It’s okay,” Sam said. “You’re safe now. You’re surrounded by family and friends.”

  This seemed to satisfy Marion. She settled back down. When Sam caught a flash of the ugly bullet wound in her leg, he shivered.

  Sam nodded to Frank. Frank slid the box over.

  “Got something for you Cousin.”

  Marion looked wearily up at Sam. Sam opened the box.

  “Figured you might need something to read while you were recuperating.”

  Sam reached into the box and pulled out a few of the comics. Marion’s face brightened.

  “I thought I told you to throw these away.”

  “Throw away the issue where Doc Ock is revealed to be the Master Planner. That’s just criminal, Marion.”

  Frank rifled through the rest of the box. “Wow,” he said, “Some of these are worth quite a bit of money.”

  Sam ignored his new friend and reached into his coat pocket.

  “And I figured you might need some company too.”

  And in his hand was a new Walkman. If Marion’s face had been bright before, now it was angelic.

  “Thank you.” She cried. She cradled the Walkman in her arms, and soon drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Frank said. “She was pretty doped up.”

  Gail chimed in. “The doctor said her hip is broken.”

  Sam nodded.

  “So her boyfriend do this to her?” Frank asked.

  Sam shook his head.

  “The hospital is going to have to report the gunshot wound,” Frank said. “The police will have a lot of questions.”

  “I know.” Sam said quietly.

  “I figured you might. How long have you been a prison guard?” Frank asked. Sam forgot he was still in uniform. He had changed in the airport bathroom—to scare the Duke away from the airport.

  “About two years.”

  Frank nodded.

  “Cigarette,” Frank asked. “Fresh pack, just bought it downstairs in the hospital cafeteria.”

  Sam waved it away. Frank popped a cigarette in his mouth, but then pocketed it when he saw Gail glaring at him. Frank coughed, and then to Sam he said:

  “Uniformed officer will probably write it off as a lover’s quarrel. Not just because she’s a woman, but because...”

  “She’s Native.” Sam answered, and sighed.

  “And I don’t think that’s right.” Frank said. “And I know some guys on the force. Good guys who aren’t going to put up with that shit, either. So, why don’t you tell us all about this Duke, and then I’ll make some calls. We’ll do everything we can to see about getting this bastard behind bars.”

  “Frank,” Sam said. “When this is all over I owe you a drink.”

  “Don’t think I won’t collect,” Frank answered.

  Then Sam told them about the Duke.

  “My god,” Gail cried when he had finished.

  Frank nodded. “So this guy probably has warrants out for him in Seattle too. Well I just happen to know a couple of fellers down there too.”

  Frank was as good as his word. He made the calls from the phone in the room. Meanwhile, Gail kept Sam occupied by asking him what some of Marion’s favorite songs were. Sam went through all the names of the songs he could remember that his cousin used to like, and hoped she liked still. Marion always preferred some of the more obscure stuff. The Beatles might have been a safe bet once. They had all grown up listening to John, Paul, George and Ringo. But then some asshole shot John Lennon a couple of years back. When they had heard the news, it was one of the few times that Sam had seen Marion visibly upset. Sam thought for a moment, and then suggested Elvis. When in doubt, Sam thought, you couldn't go wrong with the King.

  Gail promised that Marion would have a big box of cassette tapes the very next day.

  Sam thought, maybe, just maybe he was going to get the old Marion back. Back when music would follow his cousin everywhere. Back when she was still full of life.

  But the Duke was still out there.

  When the police showed up, Frank did all the talking. For that Sam was grateful. It had been a long day. Frank left with the police, and promised to call as soon as something turned up. Even in a big city like Glacier Mountain, Alaska strangers stuck out like a sore thumb.

  Gail left soon after, promising she would return in the morning to keep Marion company.

  It was warm in the room. Marion, still clutching her Walkman, slept soundly. Sam fought against it, but it was a losing battle. Exhaustion overpowered him, and Sam closed his eyes...

  Article XVI: The Alamo

  Nothing could stop the Duke! Not man! Not woman! Not even the All Mighty Himself!

  The Duke was a force of nature! God was impotent! God was a fool!

  The Duke was supreme! He was all knowing! All seeing! He was above all Earthly concerns! The world shook at his feet! Soon the Duke would ascend to the Heavenly throne! He would rule the universe with an iron fist! And all the pitiful creatures of the Earth would tremble in Great Despair! For the Duke was their Lord and Master!

  Oh how small his dreams had been! How narrow his focus was! All were his enemies! God and all his flawed creations! When the Duke was in charge everything would be perfect...

  ...but first he had one last mortal task to complete.

  Because there was no way in hell that whorish bitch was going to get away with what she had done!

  In the elevator, The Duke reloaded the gun.

  The door opened. ICU was just down the hall. He stepped out.

  Suddenly, his feet slipped out from under him.

  The gun took flight.

  On the way down, the back of his head hit a marble ashtray. The Duke's skull cracked open.

  He couldn't believe it. A paper cup lay at his feet.

  His last earthly vision was of a nurse. The nurse got up from the floor and ran away.

  Then the smell of fresh urine over powered him. The worst part of it was the urine wasn't even his.

  There was no light at the end of a tunnel. There was no warm voice to welcome him.

  Only a green mist and the roar of a semi-truck…

  END NOTES

  Cover design by www.canva.com

  Special thanks: David Bryne for the music, John Wayne for the movies and the Amazing Spider-Man for saving me.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are a production of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.