Heavens.
“Guess I'm legit now, huh.”
O'Grady nodded, and quietly said. “Yep looks like.”
“Got to go into town for a little bit, do you mind?”
“No,” O'Grady answered quietly. “I trust you.”
“Say Padre, I hate to ask,” The Duke began. God only knows why he was so good at fooling people. It was a natural talent he supposed. “I was wondering if I could get an advance on my pay?”
O'Grady sighed. “I suppose. How much do you need? $25?”
“I think $50 would do me one better...”
O'Grady pulled out his wallet, and counted the bills inside.
“Sorry Duke. Looks like I only have about $40.”
“Well,” the Duke answered, “I guess that'll have to do.”
O'Grady handed over a couple of ten and some ones and fives.
“You know,” O'Grady began, “the grass is starting to get a little long in the cemetery out back.”
“Padre... this is the fall,” The Duke insisted, “Best to let the grass grow. Winter will kill it off, and it will come back strong in the spring.
“You know best, Duke,” O'Grady answered.
“Take care Padre. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
“Lunch will be ready in a little bit,” O'Grady said. “Why not sit down and have a beer with me.”
The Duke knew what O'Grady was trying to do. The old priest was trying to make the Duke weak again. The priest’s plan was doomed to fail. The Duke had found his holy mission again, and if he were to carry out his brilliant idea, then the Duke needed one fuel, and one fuel alone. Beer just wasn't going to cut it. The Duke, mastermind that he was, decided to call O'Grady's bluff.
“Well now Padre,” the Duke said slyly, “Don't you have a sermon tonight? Best not to get loaded.”
“I'm just trying to help, Duke,” O'Grady said honestly. “Something seems to be troubling you and...”
“Tell you what,” the Duke thundered, “When I need your help I'll send a little prayer to God. Then God can tell you.”
The Duke returned later that night. He made sure to time his arrival when O'Grady was still at Mass. The Duke looked around his room. Ever since he had found his “strength” again the room had fallen into complete chaos. Somehow it was in worst shape than Miller had left it.
But the Duke was seeing things a little clearer now. Thank the Lord. His vison was as clear as it had been back in Seattle.
He hid the paper cups under the cot, and smiled. Destiny was a calling, and tomorrow he'd put his plan in action.
The Duke got up early the next morning. He had barely slept, and woke up giddy with excitement. Today was the day. The Duke took care of his excitement in the shower, and let the hot water wash away the evidence of his shame.
He quickly dried, put on the last of his clean clothes, then headed down to the office. He paused only for a moment to take a couple swipes from the bottle he had hidden in the toilet tank.
The good Lord was with him today. O'Grady was not in the office. He would need O'Grady later for the great plan, but wasn't ready to face the priest just yet.
Harriet silently handed the Duke his first paycheck. The Duke left word with her that he wanted to see the priest at lunch.
Business done, the Duke hopped into his truck and fled to town. He returned just in time for lunch, having cashed his paycheck at the liquor store. He hid the vodka bottles under the passenger's seat, and then went in to meet with the priest.
As a show of good faith, the Duke slid a couple of twenties across the table to O'Grady.
“Thanks for helping me out yesterday, Padre.”
The Duke was humble. A humbleness that he had perfected on the streets to scam people out of their hard earned cashed.
“I'm here to help anytime Duke,” O'Grady was sincere. “After all you've been a great help to me and this church.”
“I appreciate that. I really do.” The Duke was laying it on thick, and O'Grady was spooning it up.
“Sorry I haven't been myself lately,” The Duke continued, “Been having a personal problem.”
“Would you like to talk about it?” O'Grady offered.
“Not really. It's my daughter, you know. She's never been right up here.”
O'Grady gave the Duke a sour look.
“I thought your family died in a tornado.”
Shit! He'd nearly let the cat out of the bag. But the Duke recovered quickly.
“My stepdaughter... from a previous marriage. Yep, she’s not exactly right in the head. A couple of her boyfriends broke into a college and did all sorts of damage. She was the ringleader, you know...”
“Children are both a blessing and a curse,” O'Grady said. His features softened, as the Duke continued to spoon feed the priest more shit.
“You got that right Padre.”
The Duke finished his beer— hating the taste of it. He then got up from the table. He hadn't touched his plate of food.
“Well Padre those bathrooms aren't going to clean themselves.”
“Yes sir,” the Duke repeated quietly, “Best get those bathrooms clean.”
Two hours later, O'Grady found the Duke lying on the ladies bathroom floor. He was moaning in pain.
As they loaded him in the ambulance, the Duke suddenly cried out: “My back! My poor back!”
He kept the ruse up all the way to the hospital.
The Duke’s story was this:
“We all serve the Good Lord, our one true God, in a variety of ways. Mine is to clean His house. There I was cleaning the ladies’ john, polishing the toilets to an immaculate shine. It was painstaking and back breaking work, but I do not complain for I serve a higher purpose. I don’t want to say I’m a saint, but I am one of God’s chosen people, and my purpose in life is to please Him who has saved our poor souls. I had finished my divine work, and for a moment paused to admire what a good job I had done. That is when my pride got the better of me. So enthralled was I with the immaculate shine I had rendered onto the toilets, that when I turned to get the mop I did not see the piss on the floor. I slipped then. My life flashed before my eyes as I fell and landed on my back. I do not know who it was that pissed on the floor. I can only suspect the Devil. Yes, Satan— who was jealous of all my great works— sought to render me helpless, so that I may no longer serve our Lord.”
To the Duke’s great delight, the Texas Worker’s Compensation board bought this story hook, line and sinker. Worker’s Compensation is different in every state. In Texas, they pay Workers Compensation out of a general state fund. Priests are exempt from workers compensation. But, as an “official” full time employee— whose job duties including custodial and maintenance services— the Duke was entitled to disability. Enough for the Duke to begin a new life, without the responsibility of a job to hold him back. The only job he would have now, and for the rest of his days, was to go to the doctor once a month and pretend that his back still hurt like a mother fucker.
God was truly on his side. He raised his faithful servant up from the depth of despair. He was no longer hindered in his holy mission— by having to worry about petty concerns like paying for food and lodging. All that would be paid for by the glorious state of Texas. He would have time to plan and think now. And his thoughts were pure, as pure as they had been back at the mental hospital where everything seemed so clear. Best of all, he made a fool of that piece of shit Bishop Piper. The Duke never need worry again. He knew in his heart that the good Lord was on his side. He had seen the proof. Those Commie bastards had better watch out because the Duke was a coming for them. No one would be safe now that the Duke was free.
O’Grady picked him up from the hospital. He wheeled the Duke out in a wheelchair, and then helped him into the truck. O’Grady was quiet on his way back to the church. Usually the old priest was full of talk, but the silence made the Duke slightly uncomfortable. O’Grady helped him back to his room, and then he left without saying a word. The Duke would mak
e his escape tonight when the priest was in Mass.
O’Grady surprised him as he was carrying his few meager possessions out to the truck.
“I thought you were in Mass tonight, Padre.” The Duke said. He tried to sound genial, but came across as nervous.
“No Mass tonight.” O’Grady said. “Need some help?”
“No I’m okay.” The Duke said.
“Funny. I thought you hurt your back.” O’ Grady answered.
Anger flashed across the Duke’s face, but he said nothing.
O’Grady handed the Duke a small paper cup. O’Grady had found the cup while cleaning up the small puddle of urine in the ladies restroom. By his own account, the priest would never say he was a smart man. He did know enough, though, to put two and two together.
His business concluded, O’Grady turned and went into the office and closed the door behind him.
The Duke by his own account was a smart man. He knew he’d better get out of here while he still could. He ran like a bat out of hell. He hopped into his truck and drove off into the horizon.
To his credit, the Duke reflected later, O’Grady had remained a friend to the end. The Duke had settled in Dallas. It was a big enough city that he could get lost should anyone come looking for him. O’Grady could have easily busted him, but he never did. The Duke liked to think that O’Grady understood that the Duke was on a holy mission, and that he would be wise to get out of the Duke’s way. After all it was O’Grady who had given him the idea in the first place. To live a life free of the petty things in life, and focus on instead the marvelous and scary things that life