Devolution TOC

Chapter Thirty-One

 Lucky sat nervously in Kevin Collins’ office. His eyes idly roamed the room, picking out details from an oddly colored medical book to university mementos, mini dartboards and diplomas.  He was being released from the hospital today and had a burning question on his mind, but was afraid to talk about it or initiate a conversation. His crossed leg swung rhythmically, and he picked at a stray hangnail as he held his breath, then let it out raggedly. What is taking him so long? he wondered. He’d been sitting there for ten minutes, but it seemed like an hour.

 Kevin entered the room hurriedly and walked around his desk, sitting down and pulling up his chair with a sigh. “Sorry I’m late for our appointment, but I had an emergency,” he explained. Kevin leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.  “Today’s the day, kiddo,” he said smiling. “Are you ready to leave and start on your new life?”

 Lucky looked down at the floor, shifted in his seat and began picking at the loose wood veneer on the arm of his chair. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said quietly.

 Kevin noted the hesitance in Lucky’s reply, but let it pass. “We’ll continue to meet on an outpatient basis twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays at 11:00 AM,” he explained. “I have four prescriptions for you, one an antidepressant, and….”

 Kevin’s words hummed in Lucky’s ears as he tuned out Kevin. His eyes grew glazed and unfocused, and he periodically blinked his eyes to clear them and appear attentive. 

 “Lucky!” Kevin exclaimed for the second time. “What’s up? Why aren’t you listening to me?”

 Lucky rose from his chair and started pacing in the office, rubbing his hands together, then sticking them in his pockets when he noticed what he was doing. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and nervously ran his fingers through his long, silky hair. “Um, I’m worried about something,” he said with a tinge of fear in his voice. “Something happened when I was on the streets. I did something.” Lucky stopped pacing and looked at Kevin with intense eyes and a downturned mouth.

 “What did you do, Lucky?”  Kevin asked with calm interest. “You know that everything we discuss stays in this room.”

 Lucky shrugged his shoulders and dug at the carpet with the rubber sole of a new tennis shoe.  “It’s hard to talk about,” he said, trying to hold back the tears. “I bought a gun and I used it,” he said simply, shrugging again apologetically. “I tried to kill somebody, and I’m…I’m afraid I might do it again.” Lucky turned away from Kevin as he fiercely wiped away a few tears.

Lucky stopped talking, and Kevin rose from his chair, walked over to Lucky, and placed his hand on Lucky’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come back and sit down, and we’ll talk about it,” he suggested quietly.

 After Lucky was seated, he crossed his leg and began picking at the seamed edges of his tennis shoe. “This girl, she came on to me. She tried to…um...uh…touch me,” Lucky said in a haunted voice. Cloaked in despair, Lucky put the palms of his hands to his eyes. “I aimed my gun at her head and pulled the trigger.” Lucky loudly hit his palms on the narrow wooden arms of his chair. “I have a girlfriend now!” he said through his tears. “I don’t want to hurt her! I’m afraid of what might happen if she touches me wrong. I got upset at her when she wiggled my fingers like that other girl did.” Lucky started biting one of his nails. “Am I ever going to be normal again?” he pleaded.

“Lucky, were you drinking or taking drugs when this incident with the girl happened?” inquired Kevin.

 “Yes to both. I was drunk and snorted some coke,” he stated frankly.

 “That probably accounts partly for your violent reaction if your reasoning was dulled and inhibitions lowered by drugs,” explained Kevin. “Just the fact that you are worried about it and brought it up makes me feel that it would be unusual for it to happen again. You’re dealing with your trauma and the things that were done to you. We can continue to talk about it in counseling and help you to achieve some perspective. Is this new girlfriend of yours Emily Quartermaine?”

 “Yes,” Lucky answered, brightening at the thought of Emily. 

 Kevin looked sincerely at Lucky. “Well, I’ve watched Emily interacting with you, and her maturity and concern for you impress me. Lucky, you can share your feelings with her about certain kinds of touch and let her know where your boundaries are. And, if you experience any difficulties, you can reach me at any time, right?”

 “Right.” Lucky agreed. 

 “Now about that gun.” Kevin cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows and looked intently into Lucky’s blue eyes. “It would be best if you allowed Lt. Taggert to hang onto that - permanently. You almost hurt yourself and other people. You don’t want anything else like that to happen, do you, Lucky?” Kevin held Lucky’s gaze until Lucky looked down at his hands.

 “No,” Lucky replied firmly. He looked up into Kevin’s kind, brown eyes. “I’ll give the gun to Taggert.”

 ~*~*~*~

 Lucky slid into the front seat of the car and flipped a small blue suitcase onto his lap. “Did you get all of your things from Taggert?” Tony asked as he started up the car.

 “Yeah,” Lucky replied flatly. “There wasn’t too much to pick up. Thanks for letting me borrow the suitcase.” He drummed his fingers on the suitcase and glanced over at Tony, then back to his lap. “I left my gun with Taggert if that’s worrying you,” he said a bit sharply, looking out the window at the road construction crew with their orange hardhats and the fat man directing traffic.

 “I’m glad to hear that, Lucky,” Tony said nonchalantly as he glanced in his rear-view mirror and backed up the car. Tony knew that Lucky was nervous and tried to keep his tone of voice light.

  “I don’t want Lucas to be curious and play around with firearms, but I’m sure you thought of that.”

 Lucky nodded but remained silent. He didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. Tony pulled into the drive and announced, “Home,” as he grasped his car keys and opened the door. “You coming?” he asked, turning and peering back into the car at a subdued Lucky. “Uh, yeah,” Lucky replied as he moved out of the front seat and shut the car door.

 Tony stepped through the front door and turned on the lights. Lucky followed him into the house, and his eyes registered the furnishings of a small living room and adjoining dining area. He took in the plaid sofa bed and vinyl recliner, genuine oak veneer dining table and seventies lighting fixtures with their gold, orange and tan accents. There was a big screen TV and stereo at one end of the living room and an ‘80’s glass and brass coffee table in front of the couch, but absolutely no decorative items.

 Tony chuckled at Lucky’s reaction. “I know it’s not much, but it’s clean,” he said. “I spent all last night dusting and vacuuming, and that’s a first for me! I usually let it all fall down around me. Let me show you your room.”

 Tony opened the door to the spare bedroom. There were two twin beds, a desk, dresser and most importantly for Lucky, a phone. Someone had haphazardly made an attempt at coordinating the room’s décor, and Lucky’s Arizona posters were framed and hung on the walls with ruby-colored bedspreads that picked up the color from the Arizona sunset. Lucky’s cactus was placed on the dresser, and his CD player was on the desk and plugged into the wall with a CD holder containing his six CD’s.

 “You’ll have to bunk up with Lucas on occasion,” Tony warned. “He stays for the weekend about once a month. But, there’s a sofa bed in the living room, so you can use that if you come in late from a hot date.” Tony’s eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you settle in while I attempt to cook us some dinner?”

 ~*~*~*~

Alone in his room, Lucky laid his laptop on the desk and unpacked the small blue suitcase. Bobbie had bought him five new outfits, and he stored those in the dresser. When he came to the bag of money, he sat down on the bed and dumped the bills, spreading them out and playing with them as he wondered what he should do with the money. He didn’t feel right keeping it but was afraid to approach Roy about giving it back. He scooped the bills back into the bag and stored them in the dresser. Lucky laid down on the twin bed near the window and let his mind wander. He had an ache in his heart that he couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried.  He missed his mom so bad. He missed everything about her – the beautiful way that she decorated the house, her wonderful cooking, and her friendly advice. Lucky rolled over on his side and played with the cords in the bedspread, tracing their lines over and over as he remembered the way his life used to be.

 ***   Hi mom!” Lucky said brightly as he entered the front door and dropped his baseball gear to the right of the doorway. “What smells so great?” he smiled, leaning in to kiss his mother’s fragrant cheek. Laura handed him a huge chocolate chip cookie and laughed. “I made a Lucky Spencer special! Five cookies in one.” Lucky took the cookie from Laura and chomped on a huge bite.  “You’re the best mom in the whole world,” he said as his eyes shone.

.

Lucky lay on the couch shivering with the flu, too tired and ill to move. Laura came in the living room and sat down next to him with a thermometer. “Open up, big guy,” she said seriously. Lucky complied and lay there with the thermometer under his tongue. Laura waited and then took the thermometer, and read it. “One hundred and two degrees,” she said, shaking her head and furrowing her brow. “You need to stay home from school another day,” she said, smoothing her hand over his cheek and forehead. “I have some chicken soup on the stove, and I want you to take an aspirin, okay?” Lucky nodded, content and safe in his mother’s care. ***

Lucky rolled over on his stomach and curled a hand under his chin. “Why won’t she call me or write to me?” he wondered out loud. Lucky fought it off the best he could, but the craving for liquor overtook him, and he was flooded with memories of the smell and feel of bourbon on his tongue and the numbness in his blood. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.

“I can’t stand it!” he exclaimed under his breath as he bolted upright and reached for the phone and dialed the number that he had memorized. “Tom?” he asked his AA sponsor. “It’s Lucky Spencer. Um, I want a drink so bad I can’t stand it. What should I do?”

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