It Was An Accident

t was a cool Saturday night in April on Long Island, New York. Tony and Dennis, two 16 year olds, were standing in the shadows under the Massapequa High School football bleachers, drinking a quart of Budweiser apiece. Tony's older brother, Michael, had obliged them by purchasing the quarts at Mung Nose's Deli using his phony proof.

Tony was an Italian of medium height and build. He was a strong young man who liked to fight and feel reckless. Dennis was tall, slim and Irish, proud of his drinking, and mischievous by nature. They drank the first half of each quart in silence, like two masons laying a foundation. Round about the last half they began to get the lift they were looking for. They were interrupted in their reverie by the roar of a crowd escaping from the brightly lit gymnasium several hundred yards away.

"What's going on tonight?" Dennis asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve after chug-a-lugging his beer.

"I think it's some kind of championship basketball game," Tony answered, finishing his bottle, and shattering it against the bleachers.

"Want to sneak in?" Dennis asked, breaking his empty bottle, also.

"Don't have to," Tony answered, unzipping his fly and urinating against one of the uprights. "They let you in for free in the fourth quarter." He looked at his watch. "It's almost 10:00. They should be done soon."

The teenagers staggered a little toward the gymnasium, from equal parts of imagination and alcohol. A quart of beer was enough to loosen a young man's hold on right and wrong, but really not enough to make him reel and sway.

When they arrived at the box office, a sign was posted that said, "Absolutely No One Admitted Without Paying Until The Last 2 Minutes". The score clock still showed 6 minutes left in the third quarter, and with all the entrances guarded, and all their money spent on beer, the boys had no choice but to wait outside for another fifteen or so minutes.

The boys walked to the rear parking lot to have a smoke. Dennis stood next to the visiting team's bus while Tony urinated against a tree. Dennis looked down the sloping parking lot, to the school lake, to see if anyone was watching. He took out his pack of Lucky Strikes and lit up.

"Don't you have a bladder?" Dennis asked.

"Hey, what can I say? Beer goes right through me," Tony said, watering the roots of the big oak.

Dennis inhaled deeply on his cigarette, leaned back against the bus, and looked up at the stars. As he did this, he felt the bus door he was leaning on give a little. He turned around and pushed on it, and it slid open.

"Tony!" he whispered. "Check this out!" Dennis disappeared inside the bus.

Tony walked over and peered inside. Dennis was sitting in the driver seat of the bus, playing with the stick shift.

"What's up?" Tony asked.

"Man, I'd loved to drive one of these things! " Dennis said, making shifting noises.

"The keys in it?"

"Nah."

"Then I guess you won't be driving it tonight," Tony said, sitting on the front steps of the bus.

Dennis was whipping through the gears, revving up an imaginary engine, when he accidentally touched a lever and it sprang back.

"What was that?" Tony asked.

"Don't know." Dennis said.

Dennis started shifting again, and when he stepped on the clutch, the bus started to roll backward. He stepped on the brake pedal and the bus stopped.

"Damn! That must have been the emergency brake lever I let loose!" Dennis said.

He lifted his foot from the brake pedal and the bus starting rolling back again. He stopped it again.

Tony looked at Dennis, and Dennis looked back at Tony, and they both smiled because they got the same idea at the same time. Dennis took his foot off the brake pedal and the bus started rolling backward, this time picking up momentum. Tony jumped off the bus steps and ran when he landed to keep from falling. Dennis slid out of the driver's seat, leaped down the steps, and jumped out right after him. The bus continued rolling slowly backward. When it reached the end of the parking lot, it slid soundlessly down the embankment into the lake.

"Shit!" whispered Dennis.

"It's going under!" whispered Tony, as the rear wheels submerged, and the front wheels slid into the water. Slowly, the bus sank, at a 45 degree angle, until only the nose of the bus and the windshield were visible.

"Let's get out of here!" Tony said, breaking into a run. Dennis followed close behind. The boys ran to Tony's house, on the other side of the lake. They sneaked in his back door, keeping the house dark. Tony's parents were upstairs, watching tv in their bedroom. His older brother Michael was still out with his friends. The boys peered out the back window of the living room. They could see the outline of the bus sticking out of the lake.

"Dennis, stop laughing! My parents will hear you!" Tony whispered.

"I can't help it. Look at that. That's funny, man!"

Tony looked at it and started laughing, too. He tried so hard to hold it back that he farted, making Dennis laugh even louder.

"Dennis, cut it out!" Tony said, putting his hand over his friend's mouth.

They both heard the door open in the upstairs bedroom at the same time. Dennis immediately quieted down. They saw the upstairs bathroom light go on, heard the toilet seat being lifted, and the sound of a heavy stream of urine hitting the toilet water. When Tony's father let out a huge fart, Dennis started laughing again and Tony placed his hand tight over Dennis's mouth. He clamped his hand tightly over his friend's mouth until his father went back into the bedroom.

"Hey, let me breathe!" Dennis said, pulling Tony's hand away from his mouth.

"Then hold it down," Tony warned.

"Did you hear your old man's fart? If I lit a match, I'll bet the whole house would have exploded."

"Look!" Tony interrupted. "I think they're coming out of the basketball game now!".

A small group of people came down to the lake where the bus was and yelled something. A crowd gathered and flashlights were turned on. There was more shouting and soon a large crowd was gathered. They heard a police siren off in the distance, then another. Then they heard the air horn of a fire truck. The parking lot became filled with people and police cars and a fire truck. There were red lights swirling around the lake, and police radios buzzing and squelching.

"Shit!" Dennis said, amazed.

"Yeah!" Tony agreed.

"We did that, man. We did that!" Dennis said, proudly.

For some reason, Tony didn't feel so proud. Something was bothering him. A noise. A noise he heard in the back of his head.

"Let's go back," Dennis suggested.

"No way!" Tony responded.

"Come on," Dennis said, standing up.

"You're crazy. What if someone recognizes us? That's serious what we did."

"No one will recognize us," Dennis said. He stopped by the back door and added, "Come on, you pussy."

Tony watched his friend walk out of his house and into his backyard. He had to run to catch up to him.

When Tony and Dennis mingled with the crowd, it was even bigger now. Two tow trucks were on the scene and there were steel cables attached from the chassis of the bus to the tow trucks They revved their engines and pulled in unison, but all they did was slide sideways and burn rubber as their tires struggled for a grip.

"Too heavy, from all that water," one of the tow truck drivers surmised.

Another cable was attached from the front of the bus to the fire engine Together the three of them pulled, and the bus moved slowly out of the mud, and then slipped back again.

"Another engine should do it," the fireman concluded. He got on his radio, and soon, there was the distant sound of a fire truck blowing and belching from its air horns. The crowd parted when the new arrival entered the parking lot.

"Shit!" Dennis repeated for the hundredth time. The crowd was still growing, and space in the parking lot was limited, so people were getting squeezed together. In front of Tony was a cheerleader from the visiting school. She was blond and pretty, with creamy skin and sweet smelling perfume. She was wearing a short cheerleader skirt that displayed her shapely legs and round bottom.

Dennis elbowed Tony and motioned to her. Tony nodded back that he saw her. When the movement of the crowd pushed them forward, Tony reached down and squeezed her ass.

"Hey!" she said, turning around, angry.

"Sorry," Tony said, apologizing. "We got pushed."

She looked at him, narrowed her eyes, and put her hands on her hips. Tony shrugged, and raised his hands, palms up, Italian-style. "I mean it," he said. "It was an accident."

"It was a nice accident," Dennis chimed in, "but still an accident.".

She studied Dennis now, and then back to Tony. She shrugged, giving them the benefit of the doubt. When she turned back around, they smiled to each other.

In the meantime, another cable was connected from the bus to the second fire truck, and together, all four vehicles pulled. The bus rose slowly out of the lake, up the embankment, and back into the parking lot. Water gushed out of the bus for several minutes. When it was drained, one of the fireman opened the door and went inside to survey the damage. When he got to the back of the bus, he became excited. He stuck his head out of an open window, and shouted, "GET AN AMBULANCE! QUICK! THERE'S SOMEONE BACK HERE!"

Another fireman ran to his truck, got a first aid box and an oxygen tank, and ran inside the bus with it.

Dennis looked at Tony and Tony looked back at him.

"Come on, man. Let's go," Dennis whispered.

"No," Tony whispered back, grabbing his friend and holding him back.

"Come on!"

"NO!"

The cheerleader in front of them became alarmed. "Oh no," she said to herself. "... where's Dad .... where's my Dad ... Dad! ....". She pushed through the crowd, shouting , "DAD! .... DAD! .... DAD!" The crowd parted for her and she ran over to the bus. One of the fireman tried to keep her from getting inside, but she struggled and screamed and he finally let her go in. She screamed "DAD! ... DAD!" from inside, and then became quiet. A fireman carried her limp body out of the bus, placed her on the ground, while another administered smelling salts.

"Her father drove the bus for the basketball team," was the rumor passed around the crowd. "He fell asleep in the back after he had a few."

Now the noise in the back of Tony's mind became clear. It was the sound of someone sleeping, coming from the back of the bus, before he jumped out.

Tony looked at Dennis and saw the fear in his eyes. There was the same fear in Tony's eyes. They were both frozen with it. They heard the ambulance siren in the distance getting closer. When it arrived on the scene, the crowd pushed them sideways to make room for it. After the ambulance passed through the crowd, Dennis turned to Tony.

"Let's go," Dennis pleaded.

"No, you can go. I'm staying," Tony answered.

Dennis turned to leave, and then turned back around.

"It was an accident. Right?" he confirmed.

Tony nodded, and Dennis left. Tony remained and was one of the last to leave.

The Police report said it was an accident. The coroner determined the bus driver forgot to put on the emergency brake, and the bus slipped out of gear and rolled into the lake. He concluded that the bus driver drowned in his sleep, his blood alcohol level slightly below the legal limit. The local newspaper quoted the Police report, thereby making it fact.

Dennis moved away a year later. His parting words to Tony were, "It was an accident."

Tony graduated from high school, and then enlisted in the Army. He became a career officer, and was decorated twice for bravery in combat. He moved back to Massapequa when he retired from the army, to the house his parents lived in.

One Saturday, at the age of 46, Tony drove to a Catholic church at the eastern end of Long Island, miles from his home. He waited until after the last person went into the confessional, and then went up to make his confession.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," he started.

The Priest began opening the small confessional door between them, but Tony stopped him.

"Please, Father," Tony said. "I would rather you did not look at me. It has been over 30 years since my last confession, and this is difficult."

"As you wish," the Priest answered, leaving the door closed.

Slowly, Tony described his list of current sins: lying, swearing, lust. The Priest gave him the recommended penance.

"And is that all you wish to confess?" The Priest asked.

"No, Father. I also killed a man when I was 16." Tony waited for a comment, a note of shock, something. Nothing of the kind was displayed.

"Continue," was all the Priest said.

"He was a bus driver. It was an accident, but I killed him just the same." Tony broke down now. Crying and sobbing, he confessed the whole story. When he was done, the feeling of disgust lingered. The Priest was strangely quiet.

"Father, what can I do to make this up?" Tony asked.

"What would you like to do?" the Priest asked back.

"I want to do something to make it right. I want to feel right again about my life. Nothing has felt right since that night ... When I'm alone, during the day, and it's quiet, I hear the sounds of her father sleeping in the back of the bus... At night, before I close my eyes, I hear that girl screaming "Dad!" ... When I dream, I see the bus going into the lake and her father drowning in his sleep ... I wake up in the morning and my muscles are knotted with tension ... Father, I can't live with this anymore. I need to make up for it. Help me. Tell me what to do."

The Priest took so long to answer, Tony thought he might have fallen asleep.

"Do you understand that what you took, you took not only from that bus driver, but also from his family, his friends, and most importantly, from God Himself?" the Priest asked.

"Yes, Father."

"And do you understand that there are no accidents under God's heaven? That God sees and hears everything, understands everything, and that nothing happens except by the consent of God?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then open your heart to God and you will find your answer,"

Tony considered this advice. He considered it a long time.

"I will try, Father," he answered. Tony finished his prayers and left the church. He felt somewhat better, but not purged.

The Priest, Father Dennis, as he was affectionately called by the people of his parish, sighed inside the confessional. He thought to himself, "That is what worked for me, old friend, and with God's Grace, it will work for you."

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