Devolution TOC

Chapter 131

Lucky ran as fast and far as his lungs would allow. His pounding heart and pumping muscles  distracted him from the mixture of fear, anger, and resentment that rattled around in his mind. Finally, he stopped and bent over with his hands on his knees, panting and sweating in the warm, humid summer evening. When he rose up, he looked around him with a wary glance as he wasn't exactly sure where he was. The houses looked unfamiliar, and it was apparent he wasn't in his own neighborhood.

Lucky figured he must have run half a mile as he'd been pounding the pavement for nearly fifteen minutes. He jumped when he heard the metallic bang of a car door slamming shut. He squinted against a pair of headlights flooding in his direction when the driver turned on the ignition. He shrank against a large tree, hoping for invisibility until the car passed him. He nervously picked at pieces of bark that were flaking on the tree trunk, pulling them off repetitively, dropping them to the ground and leaving behind a litter of brown in the green grass surrounding the tree. His mind was blank as he began emotionally processing what had just happened. He tiredly leaned the side of his head against the tree. His heart still pounded, more from his fierce emotions than his recent run. He wiped off his forehead with the short sleeve of his shirt and hopped up on the sidewalk, walking slowly as he mentally registered the historical period of the houses and decided that he was headed toward the docks, which was just fine with him.

~*~*~*~

"I heard raised voices. Is everything okay?" Frisco frowned as he entered the foyer and scratched his head. Dressed only in a pair of boxers, his hair was mussed from the brief amount of sleep he'd been able to get before being woken up. When he caught the expression on Tony's face, he grew concerned. "Tony, what happened?"

Tony was standing in stunned silence, shadowed by the dim light emitting from one lamp in the living room. It was obvious that the rest of the household had long since gone to bed yet Tony was waiting up. The television was on but muted, and there was an empty can of soda pop by the chair along with a half-eaten bag of pretzels. Tony stirred and said, "Oh." He shook his head. "I had an argument with Lucky. He took off."

"What do you mean he took off?"

"I know how Luke felt several years ago," Tony said. "Lucky ran off, and I don't know if he's coming back."

"Why?"

Tony walked into the living room, sitting heavily on the chair in front of the television while Frisco followed him and sat beside him on the sofa. "He came home an hour or so later than expected, and he'd been drinking. He smelled like smoke, but he insisted that the restaurant was smoky. I guess I believe him." Tony was talking in a leaden tone of voice as if he'd given up on the situation, was very tired or both.

"He's an alcoholic," Frisco said. "So he's back to drinking now? What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? He won't listen to me anymore. He ran off. Bobbie and Kevin say he's going through some adolescent issues, separation from his father, that type of thing, and I’m caught in the middle. I don't know. He's been very edgy and tense lately. Who knows what's going on with him? He won't open up." Tony forlornly patted the arm of his chair.

"Do you want me to go find him and bring him back?"

Tony shook his head. "We'll leave the door open in case he returns, but I'm not sure running after him is the best thing. He's a hothead like his dad. He needs to cool off." Tony rose from the chair and turned off the television, which was stuck on an infomercial. "I'm going to bed. I have an early surgery tomorrow."

Frisco nodded and rose from the sofa. "Good night, Tony. Holler if you want some help."

"Yeah. Thanks."

~*~*~*~

At first, Lucky walked tall with pride, pride at standing up for himself and not allowing another person to control his life. He was on his own now and independent with the clothes on his back and the money in his wallet. This was no different than any other time he'd been on the run. He'd be fine. But, as the walk progressed, he grew tired and coughed raggedly with the physical reminder of his healing pneumonia. He wasn't having much fun when he nearly fell flat on his face after catching his foot on a rolling stick. He'd staggered and flailed his hands in the air, cursing to the wind and the furious bark of a dog who owned the house he passed by.

Lucky yawned loudly and blinked his eyes back into focus. The sidewalks in this older section of town were uneven - he needed to be on his guard. He wondered idly how he'd be able to continue taking his medications he relied on for emotional and mental clarity. He shrugged. I can take a bus to GH and still meet with Kevin. It's no big deal. But he grew tense when he realized how much those medications cost and the fact that he was unemployed with no insurance. He'd been relying on Tony's insurance as his uncle's dependent. As it was, the insurance would only cover him if he were enrolled in college. Well, at least his college tuition was paid for and he was officially a student. But where would he live and on what income? He had funds in his bank account, but they were for purchasing incidentals - dates with Emily, a new outfit of clothes or guitar strings. He couldn't go back to Jakes. He doubted that White Castle would take him back with his sudden disappearance, and as it was, he had no work history. It wasn't like Jason Morgan would give him a glowing reference for washing his cars. How could he find another job with a single sweaty outfit on his back?

Lucky's  posture slumped when the pretty face of his sister rose in his mind. He already missed Lulu. It took too much energy being on the streets, trying to survive. He wouldn't be able to see her often. And what about Emily? Would she even want to date him if he were homeless? Was there such a thing as dating when you weren't living in a house or apartment? His fling with Cindy was more like shacking up, and that wasn't Emily Quartermaine's style.

Lucky wished he could call Nikolas and ask for a ride or a place to crash for the night, but it was very late, and he was without a phone. He kicked viciously at a stone. Dammit! After walking for what seemed like an eternity, Lucky heard the sound of the buoy bells and the horns of ships in the harbor. He was almost at the docks, but he wasn't so sure they represented his freedom. He didn't have the certainty in his heart that he did an hour ago. Right then, it seemed like a cigarette might be his only friend, and he'd kill to have one. Lucky raised the short sleeve of his shirt and ripped off the nicotine patch that had helped him kick the habit. He threw it onto the ground and purposefully stepped on it. He was his own man now and would smoke if it suited him. Of course, there was the pneumonia. Lucky coughed long and hard and held a hand to his aching chest. He wasn't used to this much exercise. The doctors had said to take it slowly when building up his strength again. Oh well. It was too late to worry about that now. He'd already walked for a mile and a half.

~*~*~*~

Frisco sat on the edge of his bed but couldn’t bring himself to lie down and go back to sleep. He felt slightly responsible for the incident with Lucky as he was unsure how the kid felt about his presence in the household. Lucky had welcomed him and at first had been nothing but pleasant and polite, but lately, he'd caught the kid giving him the evil eye.  Conversations with him had become impossible. Lucky only muttered a sullen "hello" upon seeing him in the morning or a very quiet "thanks" if Frisco passed him a dish at the dinner table. Frisco felt a stab of guilt working in his stomach. If he'd contributed to the Spencer kid's overall tension, he was sorry. As it was, he still felt terrible for not adequately protecting Lucky from Faison.

Frisco made his decision, and rose from bed, reaching for his cell phone. He dialed the PCPD and asked to talk to Lieutenant Taggert. Maybe the man was on duty tonight. Taggert did seem to work nights, and Frisco recalled Tony's stories of how the man had helped Lucky in the past and had actually saved his life two times.

"Lieutenant Taggert."

"This is Frisco Jones calling. I’m Tony Jones' brother."

"Ah yes," Taggert answered. "You're the WSB agent."

"Used to be," Frisco corrected.

"That's what I heard."

Frisco made a face and shook his head at Taggert's comment. Maybe night shift was especially boring tonight. "I’m calling about Tony's nephew, Lucky."

"Lucky Spencer. What's he done now?"

Frisco frowned at Taggert's quick assumption that Lucky had caused trouble. Of course, he had no way of knowing what exactly Lucky's relationship had been with the PCPD in years past. After all, his father was in prison. "He's not done anything," Frisco said. "He's missing, that's all. He ran away after an argument this evening, and we're worried about him being alone at night with only the clothes on his back. I was wondering if you could have your men be on the lookout for him and offer him some help."

"That sounds reasonable," Taggert said. "Explain to me what the kid was like. Is he in control of himself? Is he likely to pose a problem?"

"No, he's fine, just a little hotheaded after an argument. He's thinking straight. He's on his medication."

"Tell you what. I'll ask our men on patrol to look out for Spencer Junior and offer him a ride home. How's that?"

"Perfect. Thanks. According to Tony, you're someone we can count on."

"Anything for a world famous spy," Taggert replied with amusement.

~*~*~*~

The docks were totally deserted when Lucky arrived. The dark and lonely place felt dangerous, and he jumped at every noise. He ran his fingers along the wooden clapboard siding of the businesses that fronted the water and noted that there were many spray painted gang symbols on the surfaces. He hadn't remembered there being a gang problem when he'd regularly hung out there a few years ago. Sure, the dock area could be tough. He'd been one of the tough guys himself. However, people still frequented the area and businesses thrived. Now, it seemed deserted.

Lucky had been preoccupied with his various illnesses following his return to Port Charles and hadn't kept up with the local news. He was unaware of the controversy surrounding the docks when he sought out a refuge, but he detected a different vibe about the place. He sat down on a bench and wished fervently for a nice, cold drink of water. He wiped off his face with the palm of his hand and grimaced at the gritty, sweaty feel of his skin. Summer nights with this high humidity high heat combination were miserable. It seemed as if the harbor were evaporating, turning into a persistent wall of moisture that choked off the breath of any living creature.  Breezes were nonexistent, and sensible people were at home in their beds, cranking up the air conditioning or suffering sleeplessly beside a window fan. Even dogs were let in for the night so they could experience relief. Lucky idly wondered if Harley were in the house and where he would sleep if he were. Probably Lucas' room, he decided.

Sweat stained under the arms of Lucky's teeshirt, and he waved the fabric back and forth to create an artificial breeze that did little to help his predicament. He scowled. I could be at home in the air conditioning with Harley beside my bed. Shit.  The romance of being Independent Lucky had worn off by now, and he glumly wondered where the glamour had been at age fifteen. A glance at his watch revealed that the time was now two thirty in the morning. Only vampires are out at this time of the night. And idiots like me, he was quick to add as he rose from the bench and headed toward the water.

I've slept under here before, he reminded himself. No different now. Lucky hopped down onto the sandy soil that lined the area below the docks. He bent low and reflected that he'd been much shorter the last time he was here. Finally, he settled for crawling on his hands and knees away from the water that lapped toward the docks. When he found a suitable spot he wondered what he should lay his head on. The ground I guess. Lucky stretched out, pretending that this was a decent place to catch a few winks, but he wasn't fooling himself. He was achy, tired and thoroughly awake with discomfort. There was a stone digging into his hip, and he adjusted his position so he could dig it out and throw it into the water. He laid the side of his face on the palm of his hand, but he could feel his hair falling into the muddy earth and the squishiness of the soil under his body. This is nasty.

Lucky heard the sound of footsteps on the docks, and he willed himself to be totally still and quiet as he held his breath. He could see a beam of light bouncing along in between the wooden slats, and he wondered if it were the cops or a security force patrolling. He was situated under the docks far back enough to probably avoid detection, at least that's what he hoped. It sounded like two men. The footsteps stopped right above his head, and he could imagine them leaning against the railing and looking out into the harbor. He couldn't make out the exact words of their conversation, but it had the easygoing cadence of men discussing cars, work or family. At least they're not gang members, he thought gratefully.

His eyes blinked rapidly when he realized he felt something crawling up his leg. He was wearing shorts, and although initially he suspected his imagination when it ran over his sock, it was now definitely entwined in his leg hair and heading north. His mouth opened in shock, but he choked back his cry when he thought about the two men standing above him. When the critter rapidly progressed in the direction of his crotch, he let out a shout of survival and furiously shook his leg as he slapped at his skin. No way was he going to share his underwear with this creature. He quickly rose up and banged his head on the wooden docks, letting out a loud curse while shaking all of his limbs.

By now the many legged critter was long gone, returned to its cozy home under a rock, but Lucky still felt its presence all over his body, much like the hallucinations he'd had recently. He panicked in his mind as he wondered if it were real, which would be bad enough, or a figment of his imagination, which was worse. "Oh, oh, oh," he exclaimed as he imagined something slithering through his hair. My hair was in the mud! Lucky's mind directed him to his former apartment at Jakes and his nonpaying roommates. It couldn't have been a cockroach. No way. But maybe it was a centipede or something else god- awful.

Alerted to the commotion beneath the docks, two PCPD policemen jumped down to Lucky's level and searched with their flashlights, placing their hands on their revolvers just in case. Finally, the bright beams caught what appeared to be a teenager hopping around, waving his limbs in a frenzied motion. "Come out of there," a deep voice ordered. "Keep your hands in front of you."

Lucky's eyes widened and his mouth shut firmly. Shit. Cops.  He crawled out with some difficulty and stood in front of them with his muddy hands held to the sky. His hair was on end, and it looked like he'd used sludge for a hair mousse.

One cop snickered at his appearance. "You look like the swamp creature," he said with amusement. "What are you doing under there? There's no vagrancy allowed. Let me see some ID."

It briefly crossed Lucky's mind to be a smartass and make a quick retort, but instead he slowly reached for his back pocket and produced his wallet, holding it out in front of him with no comment.

One officer watched Lucky closely with his hand on his revolver while the other one opened Lucky's wallet and directed his flashlight toward his picture ID. "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior," his voice intoned. "Why the picture ID and no driver's license?" he asked.

Lucky held up a limp wrist and waved his medic alert bracelet. "Epilepsy," he said.

The other officer leaned in toward his partner and whispered. "He's the kid we're supposed to drive home. Taggert's orders."

"What's special about him?"

"Taggert likes him. Need another reason?"

The officer shook his head and pointed toward Lucky. "You look miserable, and it's very late. Do you have a home to go to?"

Lucky nodded slowly as a point of hope rose within him.

The officer turned around and motioned for Lucky to follow him. "Come on. We'll give you a ride home."

Lucky quickly followed, his mind racing with the possibility of a way out of his predicament. Lucky scooted into the back seat while the officer made a face at the mud covering Lucky's body, which was bound to be left behind in smears on the seat and carpeting.

"How do you know Taggert?" one man asked as the cruiser pulled into the street.

"He's friends with my uncle," Lucky explained. Thank God.  Tony must have asked Taggert to look for him. Maybe he didn't hate Lucky after their latest argument. Maybe he could still live at the Victorian with his aunt and uncle and Lucas and Lulu. And Frisco, too.

"Friends in high places," the two men laughed.

Lucky remained silent, his eyes taking in the rapid movement of the houses as the cruiser drove through the streets. He'd be home in ten minutes.

~*~*~*~

"I'll go around back and let my dog know it's me so he doesn't bark," Lucky said as he exited the police cruiser. He poked his head back into the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"Not a problem," the driver said. His partner gave Lucky a mock salute. "You might want to cool down next time you're tempted to take off."

Lucky made a face and rolled his eyes, slamming the door shut. He felt an enormous sense of ease and relief as he walked toward the Victorian. It was dark and quiet at that time of night, so unusual for a house full of bouncy kids and joking adults. Lucky walked up the driveway and entered the gate, closing it behind him. From the corner of his eyes, he caught the lights of the police cruiser as it pulled away from the curb. Those chumps waited to see if I'd stay. Whatever. Harley immediately stood up when he detected movement and the noise of soft footsteps crossing the lawn. His hackles were up, but he made no noise. Harley was an intelligent dog who didn't want to waste his energy on unnecessary guard dog duty. If he had to, he'd kill 'em, but he'd rather lick someone's face than bite it.

"Harley," Lucky called out in a loud whisper. "It's me."

Harley's stump wagged as he sleepily strode towards Lucky and offered his head for petting. Lucky caressed him behind the ears and said, "You still smell good. It's a miracle. Won't last long, though." He thought about his own sorry condition and shook his head. I can't talk, that's for sure. Lucky led Harley by the collar over to the gate and opened it. "Come on," he said. He gently tried the side door that opened onto the driveway, but it was locked. "We're still locked out," he whispered. He thought of the porch and its swing with the padded seat. "We'll sleep on the porch."

~*~*~*~

5:30AM

Tony yawned loudly as he opened the front door to pick up the morning newspaper. He'd taken a sleeping pill in order to get his rest the prior evening. His nephew was on the run again, a situation that prickled at his nerves the moment he woke up. A slight movement caught his attention, and he grinned when he saw what it was.

Lucky was sprawled out on the porch swing. The swing wasn't long enough for his legs, and one of them was draped over the top of the swing while the other dragged along the floor. His mouth was open, and he was making heavy breathing noises, in tune with the noises his dog made as he laid beside his master, right next to Lucky's foot. The sun was coming up, and Lucky's arm hid his eyes from its rays.

Tony walked over to his nephew and tapped him on the knee. "Lucky," he said. He looked around him, making sure that no neighbors caught him out in public in only a loose teeshirt, bare feet and boxers. "Good morning, Harley," he said formally. Harley opened an eye and then promptly closed it, sighing with the exertion. What in the world? Tony thought when Lucky raised his arm to see what the fuss was. He's covered with mud and grime. Where's he been? "I'm fixing breakfast," Tony said as he headed toward the door. "You're welcome to join me."

Lucky watched Tony retreat back into the house and sat up, hissing when his joints made him feel like Edward Quartermaine. He held a hand to his head and then looked at the mud coating it. I'm thirsty. "Come on, dog," he said.

Lucky trudged into the kitchen with Harley following at his heels. "Good morning," he croaked.

Tony looked up from his cup of coffee. "There's more in the pot if you want some strong stuff," he indicated with a point in the direction of the counter.

"Thanks," Lucky said. He littered dirt with every movement, much like the Pigpen character from the Peanuts cartoon.

Tony's eyebrows rose. Bobbie's going to chew his hide.

Lucky joined Tony at the table with the mug of coffee in his hand. Tony was seemingly interested in the morning paper, eating a slice of toast. Lucky gulped down some brew, smacked his lips and said, "Ah."

"PopTart?" Tony questioned with a thumb directed toward the pantry.

"Yeah," Lucky agreed. He rummaged around the pantry until he found the Apple Cinnamon flavor he preferred and ripped open a packet, carrying the pastries back to the table and not bothering to heat them up in the toaster oven, but taking an enormous bite out of one instead.

Tony finished his toast and drained his coffee. He folded his newspaper neatly in two and placed it beside his plate. "I have early surgery," he said. "We can talk later on tonight if you want."

Lucky's eyes brightened. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"What's everyone doing up?" Frisco questioned. He was fully dressed in a polo and shorts and looked like he was ready to go somewhere.

"Surgery," Tony said while rising from the table and carrying the plate to the dishwasher. He wiped the crumbs from his fingers onto his teeshirt-covered belly, frowning when he realized he was forgetting his manners.

Lucky merely shrugged.

Frisco smiled, content that the PCPD had made good on their promise. Good work, guys. Frisco pointed toward Lucky's hair. "I'm not going to ask," he said.

"Thanks," Lucky replied shortly.

"Where are you headed?" Tony asked.

"To the amusement park."

"The new one they've been advertising like crazy?"

"That's the one. The girls want to be there as soon as it opens, which means we need an early start."

"The Seaside Amusement Park?" Lucky asked. "The one with the monster rollercoaster that goes upside down and tosses you in the air while going seventy miles an hour?"

Frisco nodded. "That's the one. I have no idea who will go with Georgie. She'll need an adult companion to get onto the rides, and I have Maxie with me as well."

Lucky's eyes shone hopefully, but he didn’t say anything.

Frisco stroked his chin. "How would you like to go with us, Lucky? Does that fit into your schedule? I need to leave in twenty minutes."

Lucky jettisoned from his chair with a newly manic energy. "I wanna go!" he exclaimed. "Is that okay?" he asked, glancing in Tony's direction.

Tony shrugged. "If it's all right with Frisco."

"I'll take a shower," Lucky said as he raced for the foyer. "Only ten minutes. I can do it in that amount of time."

"I owe you one," Tony said after Lucky bounded up the stairs. "He needs some excitement, something to take his mind off his troubles."

"I'll earn brownie points with Maxie I'm sure. But Lucky will be helpful to have along. It's hard going to those places with an odd number of people. He can go on rides with the girls."

"Are you up to this gut-twisting rollercoaster?" Tony joked. "Aren't you a heart patient?"

"Don't remind me. Maybe I'd better opt out of the crazy ones."

"Old, Frisco, you're getting old."

"And you're such an inspiration for old farthood."

"I'll make you eat those words," Tony threatened. He punched his brother's arm.

"Not if you can't catch me." Frisco laughed as he ran out the door to begin loading the car for the trip.

~*~*~*~

Later that afternoon...

Frisco was very tired - it had been a long day in the sun with hoards of people swarming throughout the amusement park. Lines for popular rides had wound endlessly through the park for a quarter mile like an impatient, whining snake. Frisco looked into the rearview mirror at a napping Lucky. Lucky had been a godsend, patient during the entire ordeal, cracking jokes to keep Georgie and Maxie in good spirits when they were unable to get onto their favorite rides. He'd taken especially good care of Georgie, holding her hand while they cut through crowds so she wouldn't be separated from their group, buying her ice cream and a soda pop when she was thirsty or cranky and waiting for her outside of the women's restroom. He'll make a good dad someday, Frisco thought.

Maxie was in the front seat beside her father. She turned around to stare at Lucky and Georgie, who were asleep on opposite ends of the back seat, each leaning against the doors of the car.   At first, she'd been ecstatic that Lucky would be joining them on their trip to the park. She thought she'd die when he'd entered the house with her father. She couldn't believe that he was actually in her house looking as adorable as always with his shaggy hair and a goatee that was absolutely divine. He was a lot taller and broader in the chest than Maxie remembered him, but then he'd been wearing a suit at the wedding and now he was wearing a teeshirt that revealed his muscles. His blue eyes had sparkled at her when he said hi, and she'd been breathless and worried at the same moment. She hadn't dressed to impress, and she'd mentally rolled her eyes at the ponytail in her hair and her lack of makeup.

But, Maxie's delight had begun to dim as soon as Lucky mentioned Emily. And mention her he did - over and over and over. If he won a prize in a game, it was for Emily. He discussed returning to the park with his girlfriend and pointed out how she'd feel about each particular ride. That infernal necklace had escaped from his teeshirt early on when he was on a rollercoaster, and its half heart pendant kept accusingly making its presence known each time she shot a glance at him. And then Georgie had developed a crush on him. Georgie kept furiously whispering to her sister how cool Lucky was and that he had a good voice when he sang to amuse them during an especially long wait in line. "He could be in 'N SYNC," she'd furiously confided to Maxie. Somehow the idea of crushing on the same guy as her little sister was a distasteful development for Maxie. She'd begun flirting with other guys in the park, delighting in her ability to draw favorable attention with a toss of her blond hair. She was so over Lucky Spencer.

Frisco glanced at his daughter. Maxie had been pleasant and agreeable today, not making the constant caustic comments to her father. She seemed more relaxed as if she were confident he wouldn't be leaving soon. On the way to the park, she'd even advised him on how to decorate the new apartment he'd be searching for soon. Inviting Lucky to come with them had been a stroke of genius. Time spent together under less than perfect conditions was bound to destroy any illusions she'd had about the young man. No one could hold up to the scrutiny of a girl on a serious crush. He was bound to topple from his pedestal by a word or action that rubbed her the wrong way. Frisco could tell that she'd tensed up each time Lucky mentioned Emily Quartermaine. He also noticed that she flirted endlessly with any decent looking boy between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. He'd wisely chosen to keep his mouth shut about that. At times he was dense when it came to his daughter, but he wasn't stupid. He'd have to talk with Felicia soon about boys and dating. Frisco couldn't help but think of himself as a teenager whenever the boys would look at his daughter, and he mentally shuddered. Felicia definitely needs to warn her. Scum. We're all scum at that age. Boys should be locked up until they're twenty.

~*~*~*~

Later that evening...

Tony ushered Lucky into his study and closed the door behind him. "You had a long day," he said. "How are you holding up?"

Lucky shrugged as he took a chair in front of Tony's desk. "I'm fine. I took naps in the car. Frisco was whipped, though. It was a shame I couldn't relieve him from some of the driving."

Tony sat down in his executive chair and cut to the chase. "Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

"Okay," Lucky said. He waited for his uncle to begin the conversation as he didn't have a clue what to say.

"I'd like to hear in your own words why you were so upset when you came home last night. I'm trying to understand where you're coming from."

Lucky's face tightened as he recalled their argument and the rebellious feelings it sparked. He tapped his fingers on the wooden armrests of his chair as he sought the words to explain his position. "It's a couple of things. One is that I'm feeling more like my old self, and I guess I was looking to return to the way I used to act. Before I was kidnapped, I either lived on my own or with my parents, but my parents didn't insist on curfews or ask me where I'd been or what I was doing. I was my own man, you know? Independent. I felt like you were all over me when I entered the house, and I wanted to push you away." He paused and pulled on his hair. "And, I was feeling a little guilty about taking the drink. I didn't want to have someone rub it in my face." Lucky's eyes flashed. "And I didn’t smoke."

"I believe you," Tony said.

Lucky's anger receded with his uncle's answer. "Okay. Good."

Tony leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "I want to know why you drank. I mean, it's been such a long time. Why did it happen?"

"Opportunity?" Lucky guessed. "The drink was already bought for me, and I felt stupid protesting one beer. Also, it was like an experiment to see what kind of reaction I'd have to drinking. It has been a long time, and I was wondering if I could drink responsibly, you know, a few beers with the guys and leave it at that."

Tony's eyebrows rose. "And what is your conclusion?"

"It felt too good," Lucky muttered darkly as his face fell. "I can't drink."

"Maybe it was a good lesson then," Tony said. "I apologize for overreacting. It was late, and I was worried. You know me."

"Yeah, I do."

"Where did you go when you ran off?"

"I walked to the docks. I used to sleep under the docks in the past. It wasn't as fun as I remembered it. I've grown too soft."

Tony looked puzzled. "Too soft?"

Lucky nodded. "I used to be real tough guy, ignoring anything that didn't suit me, braving the elements. But last night I hated being under the docks. It was dank and musty, and we won't mention the bugs." He smoothed a hand over his hair and sat up straighter. "I've changed, that's all. It's not good or bad, just that I'd prefer living in a nice house."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"No. There's not. I like living here with you and Aunt Bobbie and the kids. Frisco is cool, too. I want you to know that. I realize I've been a pain. I’m sorry." Lucky tensed up, half expecting Tony to reject his assertion and insist that he move out.

Tony looked intently at Lucky. "Your feelings are valid. If you've been upset, it's for a reason. I'd just like to know how we can coexist more comfortably. Why have you been feeling tense?"

Lucky shrugged as his true feelings were bubbling up to the surface. A wave of upset threatened him, and he blinked back a few tears. "You and Frisco won't let me do anything. I don't like it."

"You mean building the carriage house apartment?"

Lucky nodded. "Yes. You said we could do it together, that it'd be sweat equity in exchange for rent."

"Ah. I remember that." Tony felt relieved to finally hear the rationale behind Lucky's behavior. "You almost died from pneumonia. We were worried about you and wanted you to rest."

"I understand that," Lucky replied. "But it's like I didn't exist."

"Lucky, there's something you need to know. Frisco and I haven't been close for many years. We've always fought..."

"No duh," Lucky laughed as he adjusted himself in his chair.

"...but we've always cared about one another. It's been great having him live here. We have the opportunity to mend some fences. We both share a love of building, and the project brought back good memories for both of us. I'm sorry if we excluded you. It wasn't our intention."

"I know," Lucky said.

"Lucas is the winner in all of this," Tony said, smiling.

"He loves the fort. He told me."

"Who wouldn't? You build deluxe tree forts, Spencer."

Lucky beamed. "Everybody always likes my forts."

"What would you like to do for the carriage house project?"

"Would you show me how to drywall?" Lucky asked. "I've always wanted to try that. I've been studying a construction book."

"I believe that can be arranged. Frisco has a better touch. You might want him to show you the ropes."

Lucky remained silent, and Tony detected another issue that his nephew wanted to bring up. "Anything else?"

"I don't want to return to the day center," Lucky blurted out. "I don't think it's helpful to me."

Tony templed his fingertips as he regarded his tense nephew. It's true that Lucky was much improved after starting his new antipsychotic and that most of his problems were understandable, the products of everyday life. "Why don't we talk to Kevin and see if we can develop a custom program for you, one that wouldn't require you to be at the day center or a physical building? Let's ask him for three or four areas that you need to work on and find ways to meet those needs. That's what real life is all about anyway."

Lucky brightened. "Yeah. That's right. I just want to live a real life, not locked up in an institution."

"Why don't we plan on having you join me at the free clinic during the days and hours I'm volunteering. Jill has been moaning about the computers again, and I'm tired of sweeping the floors. You could be a real help to us. We could frame the volunteer work as a real job, nonpaying of course. Jill could give you a written review after a few weeks."

"Cool. That's cool," Lucky agreed. The written review would take care of his job history dilemma.

"Let's call Kevin tomorrow and set this up," Tony suggested. He and Lucky rose from their chairs, and Tony draped an arm around him as they walked out of the study. "Talk to me next time something upsets you, okay?"

"Okay." Lucky smiled at his uncle. It felt good to be home.

Next...