Chapter Thirty-Five
Lucky Spencer sat stiffly upright on a hard wooden chair in the prison visiting room, looking around and unfortunately absorbing the drab, dank atmosphere with its predominance of green-gray, peeling walls, hard metal surfaces and general gloom. He'd reviewed the sequence of prison visitation procedures with Kevin before he made the visit and practiced his relaxation techniques just in case. He'd almost lost it when he went through the simple pat-down search with the prison guards, but he maintained his equilibrium even as his knees shook and his teeth gritted. It was the clanging metal doors that he kept entering and having closed behind him that unnerved him the most. It was like he was back in Faison's compound all over again, in the endless bowels of hell, but he clung to the reality that he'd be leaving after a twenty-minute visit with his father.
It had been almost eighteen months since Lucky had laid eyes on his father, and the last time was when Luke had screamed at him to go away, that Lucky didn't have a father anymore. Even though Lucky and Luke had been exchanging letters for two or three months, Lucky still felt jittery and unsure of Luke's possible reactions. He wondered what they would talk about or what they could talk about. How would Luke be after spending time in prison? Would he be disappointed in his son? How much could he tell his father about what had happened to him? So many questions and soon they'd be answered. Part of Lucky wanted to jump out of his seat and call a guard so he could run like hell out of this prison. He started sweating a bit, and he nervously jiggled his foot.
~*~*~*~
The guard came to collect Luke and direct him to the prison visiting area. First, the shackles were firmly locked onto his ankles and wrists, more of an obvious humiliation than prison break prevention. Can't have your family forget for one minute that you're a ward of the state, a has-been reject of society, thought Luke apprehensively as he anticipated meeting his only son. When Lucky had written two weeks ago asking to visit, Luke had readily agreed and put Lucky's name on the list. He was so excited and even grew his hair out a bit so he didn't look quite so stark in his prison crew cut. But now that the visit was imminent, Luke started feeling scared and anxious. What if Lucky came to tell him that he never wanted to see him again? Although it would be poetic justice for what Luke had put his son through, Luke didn't know if his heart could take that. He'd just go back to his cell and die ten times over. As Luke awkwardly walked down the long, narrow hallway, dragging his heavy chains, he wasn't sure if he were headed to his salvation or his execution. He felt like a dead man walking.
~*~*~*~
Lucky stood up hastily as Luke entered the visitor's area and approached the wire-meshed, bulletproof glass that segregated visitors from prisoners. Luke met Lucky's eyes for a millisecond before he looked away and sat down carefully in his hard chair. Lucky hesitated, then lowered himself back to his seat and rubbed the sweaty palms of his hands back and forth on the top of his blue-jeaned thighs.
Luke picked up a black phone and motioned with a pointing index finger over to Lucky to pick up the phone at his end.
"Dad," Lucky said softly into the black telephone.
"Cowboy," replied Luke matter-of-factly. "You're lookin' real healthy these days. I like the new 'do," Luke said as he pointed to Lucky's hair.
"Yeah, Emily chopped it off for me," Lucky smiled. "She got a bit carried away, but it's good. I need to look my best for my interview."
"Interview?" questioned Luke with one raised eyebrow. "Do tell, son."
"I have an interview with the General Hospital MIS department. They're considering me for a position to administer their off-site networks."
"That's impressive," replied Luke heartily. "You must have made a great impression on them."
Lucky shrugged and blushed as he gave a small smile. "I'll let you know. I have the interview in two days."
"Well, good luck, son, or break a leg, whatever -- not that you'll need it," Luke stated with a proud smile.
"You passed your GED test, didn't you?" Lucky asked, changing the subject.
"Yep. I bet you did, too," Luke laughed. "Thanks for the algebra tips. I never did pick up that math stuff in school. Never did see a reason for it."
"Yeah, I passed. I'm glad that's out of the way. I appreciate your tips with the history. I have trouble associating the dates with the names and places." Lucky laughed dryly. "I guess we make a pretty good team."
"I agree with you there," Luke nodded. "Question is, a team of what? Mules, sled dogs…"
Lucky shook his head at his dad's usual corny sense of humor. "You're still the dad I remember," he commented, snorting.
"I'll always be your dad, Lucky," Luke said huskily with emotion as his eyes grew shiny. "Not that I've always acted like it." Luke looked down at his left hand and fiddled with his thumb, erasing an invisible mark on the desk. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, son."
"Me, too, dad," Lucky quietly commented. "But, I'm glad we're talking now," he said firmly.
"Have you seen your sister and mother?" asked Luke tentatively. Lucky never mentioned either one in his letters, and Luke himself had not seen, spoken to or received letters from his ex-wife or daughter since his imprisonment. Luke sensed that something bad was going down, but he wasn't sure what it was.
Lucky didn't say anything. He looked down at his feet and began lightly kicking at the leg of his chair with a tennis shoe that was starting to untie, trailing a long, white string along the dirty floor. He seemed to be exclusively concentrating on that chair, but he actually was trying desperately to hold back his tears and not cry in front of his dad. He kept taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, searching for his emotional calm, but finding that it stayed one step ahead of him.
Luke's heart felt tender and sad looking at his cowboy in pain. He longed to reach out and hug him forever, never letting go, stroking Lucky's hair and whispering to him that he was worthy of all the love and goodness in the world.
"Cowboy?" Luke asked again, softly this time.
Lucky still gazed at the floor, but answered, "They're in North Carolina," in a tight, strangled voice. "Mom sold the house and told me that she wanted to start a new life with Lulu away from Port Charles." And me. "Aunt Bobbie gave me a card from Lulu when I was in the hospital," he added shyly.
Luke's mind was racing. What is Barbara Jean up to now? he wondered. And what is that bitch Laura doing to our son and daughter? Luke felt every inch of his hard shackles at that moment, chained and helpless in his rage and fear as he realized how truly abandoned Lucky had been, in part because of his own perverse actions.
"How long has it been since you've seen Laura or Lulu?" Luke gently prodded.
"About a year," Lucky said in a voice that sounded tinny and fragile to Luke's ears. "They moved pretty soon after you left for prison."
"Lucky, look at me," Luke said in an authoritative voice. Lucky's tear-filled eyes met the stern and concerned eyes of his father. "I was married to your mother for almost twenty years, so I guess I know her better than anyone. Lucky, she's always loved you more than life itself. I know it must be eating you up inside thinking about all the happy memories when you're in this situation. I feel the same way myself, trapped in this cold place with nothing to think about but memories of the past. But, son, you are more than memories and more than the love that any one person feels like showing. Your mother's love made you the excellent young man that you are today. Take that, cherish it and move on. Maybe she'll come around, and maybe she won't. But don't let that determine how you spend the rest of your life. Laura tends to run when the going gets tough, and that's exactly what she's doing. I know that you remind her of me, and I'm sorry that she's made that unfortunate association."
Lucky met his father's serious eyes. "I'm proud that you're my father, no matter where you live," he stated vigorously. "If she doesn't like me anymore because I'm too much like you, then fine. I don't care."
Luke recognized Lucky's particular brand of bravado, and it stabbed him lightly in the heart to think that his son felt the need to cover up his feelings. "Lucky, I do want to ask you one very important favor," Luke said.
"What's that?" asked Lucky, a little intrigued.
"Your sister Lulu needs you. Please try to keep a relationship with her, no matter what you have to do. After you feel a little more settled in your life, maybe you can arrange to see her. She deserves to have her big brother in her life. She needs you, son. With me in prison and her too young to visit, she needs a good male role model, someone to look up to and lean on."
Lucky laughed derisively. "Yeah, for sure, that's me, the good role model. The homeless, alcoholic, drug addict. No wonder mom doesn't want her to have anything to do with me."
"Lucky, stop it right now," pleaded Luke. "You've made some changes in your life. You're getting help. Don't be so down on yourself that you can't see that another person is better off with you in their life. Promise me you'll write regularly and try to see Lulu if you can. Promise me!"
Lucky lightly laughed to deflect the tense mood, and joked, "Hey, Kevin says I have a bad attitude, too. He says I need to focus on what I have to be grateful for, not on what I don't have."
"Well, I'm not much for those headshrinkers, as you know, but if that's the advice that Kevin is dishing out these days, then I say great. Listen to what he says and do it," Luke replied frankly.
Lucky looked up at Luke with a surprised expression on his face. "Okay, I promise," he stated, referring to Luke's wish that Lucky stay in touch with Lulu.
The muscle-bound, uniformed guard entered the visitor's area and announced in a bored voice, "It's time, gentlemen. Wrap it up."
Lucky almost looked a little panicked. His visit was already over, and there was so much left to say to his dad.
Luke noted Lucky's reaction and said quickly, "I'll put you on the list for my next visitation privilege if that's okay with you."
Lucky's face settled into relief, and he said, "Okay. I'll come back. Thanks."
Luke's face softened, and he said, "I love you, Lucky. Don't forget that, son."
"I won't," Lucky replied quietly. "I love you, too. Bye, dad," he added with a brief waver in his voice as he hung up the black phone, his eyes never leaving his father's body as Luke rose and made his way back into the prison with the guiding hand of a guard.
~*~*~*~
Lucky sat in the car that he'd borrowed from Tony, his hands gripping the hard, molded sides of the steering wheel and his head leaning on the center part. Lucky wept out of relief to leave the prison and its claustrophobic, clanging metal cages and burly guards, but he also wept with an aching, yearning loneliness and the desire to reach out to his dad, to touch him, hug him, and spend some time with him fishing, bowling or chewing the fat. Lucky breathed in and out with sobbing gulps that showed no sign of ending soon. After fifteen minutes or so, he leaned over and opened the glove compartment, retrieved an old fast food napkin, and rubbed his eyes and blew his nose on it repeatedly. Then, he started the car and headed for home.
~*~*~*~
Later, after about half an hour driving
on the road, it came to Lucky's mind that he hadn't craved a drink all day, even after his
emotionally draining encounter with his father. Lucky smiled and hummed as he sought out
his favorite music station on the car radio. Thank you, God.
Next...