Chapter Four
~~ Well I came here for help
I was lookin' for you
You're no son, no son of mine
Lt. Taggert was making an early call to the men's shelter on Cortland Street to investigate an area homicide. On his way to the shelter, he walked past an alley near 4th Street. Something caught his eye in his peripheral vision. He thought he saw legs moving deep in the alley. Taggert moved in cautiously to investigate, his hand on his gun holster, ready to draw if necessary.
Taggert walked deep into the alley and up to a moving, wooden crate with legs. Taggert kicked at the legs, and a bleary Lucky Spencer raised a sputtering head.
"He-ey..." Lucky whined.
Taggert bent down to peer at Lucky. "What the hell are you doin' in this alley in a crate of all places, Lucky Spencer?" he asked in a tired, irritable tone of voice.
"Sleeping? Or trying to," Lucky answered in a failed attempt to sound smart or hip at the least.
"Don't you have a home, Spencer?" Taggert egged him on.
"I was temporarily disadvantaged in the late of the night." Lucky rolled his eyes at the sound of his own stupidity. He really needed to get new material and stop trying to imitate Luke.
Taggert took in Lucky's disheveled
appearance, lack of hygiene and narrowed pupils in one sweeping glance. He shook his bald
head and felt a twinge of pity for the sad young man in front of him, remembering the
events of a day almost a year ago.
*** Luke was in the interrogation room for about the 15th time in three days, answering questions about Stefan Cassadine and his mysterious disappearance. He had been formally charged and arrested for Stefan's murder and wore his PCPD blues complete with matching handcuff accessories.
Lucky Spencer came to the police station again. He made it his mission to camp out there for Luke's interests, but mainly just managed to get in the way of Luke's lawyers and the PCPD.
"Hey, Taggert, let me talk to my dad," Lucky pleaded. "Come on man."
Taggert was sick to death of Spencer's kid and was looking for some relief.
"All right, then. Just for a minute," Taggert replied with an exasperated sigh.
Taggert knocked on the door and entered. "Spencer, your son is here to see you."
Luke Spencer glanced up with a defeated look on his face. He was going down for this crime. There was no way out this time. "Lucky," he said evenly as his son entered the room. Lucky's face was like an open book. The kid was so sensitive; he wore his heart on his sleeve. Luke was worried about the effects of his certain imprisonment on his vulnerable son.
"Dad," Lucky said uncertainly. "How are you? Can I do anything for you?"
"What are you doing here, Lucky?" Luke asked tiredly as he rubbed his head and sighed.
"I'm came here to visit you, dad. I wanted to see you," Lucky explained.
"I don't think it's such a good idea - you being here," Luke said flatly.
"But, you're my dad. I want to help," Lucky pleaded.
"What? Are you thinking of keeping me company in Pentonville?" Luke scoffed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Lucky sat there silently with no more words to tell his dad how he felt.
"Get on home, kid," Luke demanded wearily. Lucky's presence and the guilt and helplessness that it generated were irritating Luke, and for the first time, he just couldn't deal with the reality of Lucky. Luke was embarrassed and ashamed by his predicament and the lack of control over his life. He looked down at his shackled hands as tears built up in his eyes. Cowboy is better off without me.
"I'm staying here," Lucky insisted as he stood up with tears in his eyes.
"Look, skilletbrain, no son of mine could be this stupid. I'm goin' down, and nothing you can say or do will fix that. Get it through your head - you don't have a father anymore. Deal with it." Luke waved his hand at Lucky in a "go away" gesture.
Taggert witnessed this exchange and decided to end it before it got any uglier.
"Come on, Lucky, let's go," he said gently as he placed a hand on his shoulder.
"NO!" Lucky shouted and furiously shrugged Taggert's hand from his shoulder.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" Luke screamed as he stood from his chair and looked down in anger at his son.
In shock, Lucky didn't protest anymore as Taggert lead him out of the door and away from Luke. ***
Taggert shook his head again at the memory of that confrontation. "Let's go,
kid," he said as he offered his hand to help Lucky up and out of the crate.
Lucky took Taggert's hand and rose to his feet, but started shaking and fell back before he could catch his balance.
"WHOA, there, cowboy," Taggert said as he grabbed Lucky before he fell on his butt.
"Don't CALL me that!" Lucky hissed at Taggert. Lucky cringed and ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as he tried in vain to hold back his tears. Lucky half-leaned against the old brick wall and began coughing repeatedly.
Taggert looked at Lucky with alarm. What's up with this kid? he wondered. Lucky sounded as terrible as he looked.
"Do you have any family that I can call to pick you up?" Taggert asked softly.
"You're looking at it," Lucky said smirking with mock pride.
"Let's get you some medical attention or something, kid. You sound terrible." Taggert knew that he could easily bust this Spencer kid for vagrancy and probably for possession from the looks of him. But, what good would that do?
"Sorry to offend you, Taggert. I don't have any insurance. Next bright idea?" It was about all that Lucky could do to just engage in conversation. Suddenly, he felt very tired and very sad.
Lucky staggered out of the alley and toward the street. He stood with Taggert at his side. Lucky couldn't figure out what to do next or decide where to go.
Taggert pulled a card out of his wallet and began scribbling on it. "Lucky, this is my card. Call me if you need anything. This is the number for a free clinic two blocks away. I really recommend that you go there. They're nice folks. And, if you need it, there's a men's shelter just down the street. I'm on my way over there. You need to stay off the streets. There was a murder here last night. You hear me, kid?"
Lucky looked up at him in a daze, only catching about half of Taggert's words. "Yeah, thanks man," he said as he took the card and stuffed it in his pocket. Lucky swayed a bit, then turned and walked down the street as Taggert's saddened eyes followed him.