Devolution TOC

Chapter Forty-Nine

7:00AM

"Huuunnnhhh!" Lucky woke with a start. It was still dark in the bedroom, but he could make out the darker shapes of the beds, closet and suitcases. He turned his head. Tony wasn't there. He was still asleep on the couch. Lucky reached for his watch that he'd laid on the nightstand and turned on the lamp. After noting the time, he flopped back onto the pillows and ran a hand over his tired face. He stared at the ceiling for about fifteen minutes, and then decided to get up - he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep.

Lucky swung his legs to the side of the bed, not expecting to be attacked by a cruel, stabbing pain that took his breath away. His hands flew to his abdomen. The makeshift towel bandage that he'd applied the night before was loose and turned to his back with the adhesive tape swinging away from his skin. "Ow!" he said out loud. He vaguely remembered taking the knife and slicing himself. The cool, sharp pain that had felt so good then was now hotter and more pervasive. Lucky struggled to his feet and nearly fell to the floor as his knees unexpectedly buckled. He reached back with his hands and broke his fall with the bed. He rose more carefully this time and limped to the door.

In the bathroom, he removed his shirt and looked down at his lower abdomen. The zigzag shaped cut ran about seven inches in length at an uneven depth. By the hip where the cut started, it was shallow and loose with a flap of dead skin pulled away, but nearer his bellybutton, the cut ran deeper and was more inflamed, with a red and puffy appearance. Dammit, I should have washed that out last night, he thought morosely. Tears formed in Lucky's eyes. I've got to talk to Kevin. Pretty soon there's not going to be anything left of me that's not cut up. Lucky's heart sank further in despair. But no one can help me now. I hate myself. I'm crazy!

Lucky became nauseous and sat down on the toilet seat. He felt funny, breaking out into a cold sweat. After a minute, he rose and started the shower. Lucky carefully washed the cut even though the soap stung terribly. An idle thought wandered through Lucky's mind. Why does it feel so good sometimes when it hurts and other times it feels terrible?

Lucky dried himself off and searched for some Band-Aids. He applied seven Band-Aids perpendicularly to the cut, hoping that they would act like the stitches that he actually needed. He took a bunch of tissues and placed them over the area, holding them in place with the elastic of a clean pair of briefs. Lucky winced as he pulled on his jeans and zipped them up.

~*~*~*~

8:20AM

Lucky walked slowly toward the Brownstone kitchen. To his surprise, everyone else in the house was up and munching on breakfast in the dining room. Tony was reading the newspaper and chewing on an English muffin with strawberry jam; Lucas was gulping down Cheerios like they were going out of style; and Bobbie took a small bite out of her blueberry bagel with low-fat cream cheese.

Lucas dropped his spoon in his bowl with a loud clang and bounded over to Lucky. He threw his arms around Lucky's waist and said happily, "LUCKY! I missed you last night!" Lucky cried out loudly and backed away from Lucas with a hand to his lower abdomen. He turned pale and looked shaky.

Tony frowned. "What's the matter with you, Lucky?"  Lucky shrugged and said, "Sorry," to a worried Lucas. "I pulled a muscle while we were sledding yesterday," he lied. "It's still sore."

"Good morning, Lucky," Bobbie said brightly. "It's good to see you up for breakfast. What can I get you to eat?"

"A piece of toast I guess," said Lucky sheepishly. "Thanks, Aunt Bobbie." He still wasn't hungry, but he didn't want the entire Jones family ganging up on him. Lucky walked out to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of juice. Tony's voice called over from the dining room, "Take your medications, Lucky." Lucky set the glass of juice down hard on the countertop, and the juice swayed and sloshed over the side of the glass. He stood there for seconds with his jaw clenched and his head bent down, as the spilled juice beaded and rolled off of his hand.

"Paper towels are right beside you," Bobbie called over from the other side of the kitchen. "And, your toast's ready."

Lucky sat down at the dining room table and nibbled at the edges of his perfectly prepared toast. He smiled when he noticed there were no burnt places on its surface. Tony folded his newspaper and drained his coffee cup. "Now that we have everyone all together, Bobbie and I have some more news that we'd like to share with you." Tony glanced over at Bobbie, who smiled broadly. "Lucas, Lucky," she said happily, "I've filed for custody of Lulu. If the court rules in my favor, and we expect them to, Lulu might be living here as early as next month."

Shocked silence filled the room. Lucas piped up first. "Does that mean I'll have a new little sister?" he asked with a confused expression on his face. "No, Lulu will always be your cousin, Lucas," corrected Bobbie. "But, she will be living with us as a member of this family." Lucas still looked confused. "I like Lulu," he said softly. "We used to play go-fish. I miss her." Bobbie reached out and stroked Lucas' hair as she smiled reassuringly at him.

Lucky sat silently, his mouth slightly parted in shock. As adrenaline flooded through his veins, his hands started shaking, and the juice bobbed madly in his glass. Bobbie noticed Lucky's upset emotions, and gently guided Lucas into the living room and down the hall. "We need to give Lucky and Tony some time to talk privately," she told her son matter-of-factly.

Lucky noticed that his hands were shaking, and he angrily slammed one hand down over the other, forcing the juice to turn over and flood the dining room table. The orange fluid streamed quickly to one side and fell in frequent drips to the carpeted floor.

Tony ignored the mess and walked over to Lucky, placing his hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked. Lucky angrily jerked away and hopped up from the table with his arms crossing his chest. He walked to the end of the dining room and started pacing. His loose hair fell across his mouth, and his tense exhalations caused it to puff out in a nervous rhythm. "I'M THE MAN!" he cried out in anger and despair. "What do you mean," Tony asked calmly and gently. "She's MY sister, MY family!" Lucky protested. "That's MY job! When dad is gone, I'm the man, I'm in charge. I have to look out for my sister!" Lucky repeated the words drilled into him in the Spencer tradition.

Lucky continued to pace with folded arms, and his shoulders began shaking as he sobbed. He couldn't stop thinking about the family that used to be.

*** Fifteen year old Lucky was pushing Lulu on a swing in the park. Lulu laughed and giggled with delight as Lucky pushed her higher and higher. Luke walked up to the playground and sat on a swing next to Lulu and Lucky. Luke held the metal chains of the swing in his hands and twirled back and forth on the swing, creating patterns in the dust with his feet.

"I'm leaving town for several weeks, Cowboy," said Luke. Lucky glanced over at his dad and pushed Lulu again. "Everything okay, dad?" he asked. "Nothing the old man can't handle," Luke replied offhandedly. "I need you to be the man and look after the family while I'm gone," he said seriously, looking Lucky in the eyes and holding his gaze for emphasis. "Always protect your little sister," Luke intoned. "And, don't swing Lulu so high, Lucky, she'd hurt herself if she fell from that height," he interjected. Lucky immediately cut back on the swing pushing, and Lulu floated down to an acceptable swinging rhythm. "And, one more thing, Cowboy," stated Luke. "You remember the location and account number for the Ice Princess? If anything ever happens to me, and I don't come back, you know where it is." Lucky nodded seriously.

Lucky looked after his father as Luke left the playground, his view of Luke's back growing smaller and smaller as the distance grew between father and son. Lucky blinked, turned and resumed pushing his sister's swing.
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The high-strung portrait photographer wiped his sweating brow. This Spencer family just wouldn't cooperate with his artistic vision. "Hold your spine rigidly, sir," he instructed, pointing at Luke. "Fold your arms and look stern." The look that Luke gave him would wilt freshly blooming flowers. "Fluff your hair out, ma'am, ah, yes, as beautiful as the Madonna," the photographer smiled approvingly. Laura leaned over to Luke and whispered out of the side of her mouth, "Except for that part about the virgin birth." Luke burst out laughing, and eleven-year-old Lucky caught his contagious laughter and bounced tiny baby Lulu merrily on his lap. Surprised by the reaction of his clients, the photographer jumped, pressed his thumb on the button, and accidentally shot a picture of the happy family. The unposed, impromptu portrait perched on the Spencer mantle for years. ***

Lucky dropped to his knees as the weight of his knowledge crushed him. The Spencer family that he knew and loved was dead and buried, never to rise from the tomb. Tony wordlessly knelt beside Lucky and drew him into a firm hug. Lucky wrapped his arms around his uncle and sobbed on his shoulder, with his head leaning to his right, and his vision caught on the slow, progressive drip of the spilt orange juice.

Lucky recovered after a few minutes, and separated from the hug. He drew in a deep breath and wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve. Tony stood up and offered Lucky a hand. Lucky grabbed Tony's hand and pulled himself up from the floor. Lucky coughed and hacked, and Tony suggested softly, "Why don't you lie down on the sofa for a minute?"

Lucky walked over to the sofa and lay down on his side, taking in small, panting breaths as his body started to calm. Tony pulled the crocheted afghan over Lucky and went to the kitchen. Tony picked up Lucky's prescription tranquilizers and shook out one pill. Filling a glass of water, he returned to the living room and handed the pill and water to Lucky. "Here you go," he said.

Lucky sat up  and accepted the medication, swallowing the pill and chasing it down with the water. He handed back the glass and lay back down. Tony sat in a chair near the sofa for several minutes until it was obvious that Lucky was asleep by evidence of his relaxed posture and the regular rhythm of his breathing. Tony picked up the portable phone and walked to the guestroom, closing the door softly behind him.

~*~*~*~

Tony and Kevin engaged in friendly doctor banter. "I'm sorry to disturb you on Christmas Eve, Kevin," said Tony. "But, I know you wouldn't feel normal without those holiday emergency calls."

"Ah, yes, the joys of psychiatry," Kevin joked. "I gave up celebrating holidays years ago. I do Christmas in February."

"See, I knew there was a reason why I picked neurology as my specialty," Tony teased. "But seriously, I'm very concerned about Lucky, and I need your opinion. He's just experienced a bad emotional meltdown. I gave him a tranquilizer, and he's now sleeping on the sofa."

"Can you describe his behavior?" asked Kevin.

"When?" asked Tony. "Just recently or over the past several days. He's been off for awhile."

"Why don't you describe the most recent event, and then tell me about his general behavior," Kevin suggested.

"We just told Lucky and my son Lucas that Bobbie is expected to win a custody suit over Lucky's sister Lulu. Lucky reacted rather badly/ He got angry and then broke down into tears. He was very upset."

"He's likely mourning the loss of his family," Kevin explained. "Because of the custody suit, it just registered firmly in his conscious mind. It's actually a normal reaction. Now what about his other behavior?"

"He's started smoking again - heavily. Um…he is showing more symptoms of depression. He's irritable, he won't eat unless he's reminded, and he has a hard time getting out of bed and grooming himself. He's making a great effort, you can tell. He's had a lot of fun playing with my son, for example. Sometimes he seems to be dazed. It's like he doesn't hear you until you repeat what you said to him. That's about it."

"Has Lucky mentioned suicide, wanting to end it all or anything similar?" questioned Kevin.

"No," replied Tony. "The main problem is getting him to talk at all. He's clammed up. He used to be more open with me, and I feel like he's slipping away." Tony's voice betrayed an edge of desperation.

"It sounds like you have your hands full," said Kevin. "I don't suggest changing his medications for now. We've tried several regimes for depression with limited degrees of success, but I'd like to give this one an opportunity to work."

"Do you think he might need to be hospitalized?" asked Tony hesitantly.

"Lucky's next appointment is in two days, and I plan to discuss that with him," replied Kevin. "I believe he would benefit temporarily from an environment that frees him from life stress. But, I have to warn you, Tony, this may not be possible. He is a legal adult and must give his consent for treatment. Patients have rights, and if he is resistant and shows no signs of suicidal intent, criminality, or overt psychosis, our hands are tied. The courts won't allow involuntary commitments under other circumstances."

Tony sighed. "What do we do about in-between behavior? He's not waving a gun around, but he can barely function. He has a visit scheduled this afternoon with Luke. Should I let him go?"

"Not by himself," Kevin said. "I wouldn't want him to be emotionally upset and driving distances. It's too dangerous."

"I'll take him," said Tony. "He needs to see his dad."

~*~*~*~

1:20 PM

Tony cut the engine of his Jeep Cherokee and glanced over at Lucky. Lucky was leaning back in his seat with his legs spread out and fingers drumming on the door rest, looking every bit the sullen fourteen year old who wasn't getting his way.

Lucky stared straight in front of him. "Shouldn't you be at home with your family?" he asked. "No," Tony replied. "Bobbie and Lucas are baking cookies this afternoon. She was relieved that I was going to be out of the house and away from the kitchen. You remember what happened the last time I tried to bake something, don't you, Lucky?"

Lucky chuckled in spite of himself. "Yeah, we found out where the smoke detector was."

Tony rested his hand on Lucky's arm. "I'm concerned about you. Are you up to this prison visit? I know how difficult it must be for you because of your experiences with the kidnapping."

Lucky shrugged. "Thanks for thinking about me, Tony, but I'm fine. Let's go."

~*~*~*~

Lucky wasn't feeling fine when they entered the prison. The predominance of gray was much too similar to Faison's compound. Lucky had made three visits to his father in the last four months, but each one was an ordeal in its own right. Large guards, metal and gray surfaces were not a good combination for him.

Lucky practiced his deep breathing techniques and self-motivational messages. You're fine, you can do it, nothing bad will happen to you, he said to himself over and over. Still, he felt himself on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. I can't do this here, he worried. His hands started shaking, and he rammed them forcefully into his jeans pockets. The force of his movements brushed the fabric roughly against his abdomen, and he winced. Tony stood beside Lucky as he filled out the paperwork. He noticed that Lucky's hands were shaking and his handwriting was uncertain. I have a bad feeling about this, I hope he can keep it together, Tony thought.

Lucky was finished with the check-in procedures, and a female guard led him back toward the visiting area. Tony took a seat in the public waiting area. He opened the Reader's Digest that he'd brought with him to pass the time. He quickly became engrossed in an article about herbs and green vegetables and how they delayed the aging process.

Lucky maintained his composure with the female guard. The problem started when she handed him over to a large muscle-bound guard with the nametag 'Mike' pinned on his chest. Lucky flinched when the guard took him gently by the elbow and led him through the first set of metal doors. Lucky turned around abruptly when he heard them bang shut with a metallic clang. He started to feel woozy as they walked toward the next set of doors, and he realized that he was trapped in the space with a guard and two metal doors blocking his freedom. The days of no food, no sleep and no medicine caught up with him, and another time and place quickly took over his reality. Mike from Pentonville became Mike from Faison's compound, and their walk toward metal doors meant rape, torture and possible death. Lucky screamed "NO!" at the top of his lungs, flinging himself away from Mike. He backed up to a concrete wall, his eyes blank and staring and his expression terrified. He frantically smacked his hands on the wall in search of a way out.

Mike the guard approached Lucky calmly and said, "Take it easy. No one's going to hurt you. Settle down."

As the guard approached Lucky, the boy retreated further along the hold space, edging closer to the first metal door. He suddenly sprinted toward the metal bars, wrapped his hands around them and screamed and yanked furiously at the barriers. He turned around with eyes bugged at the sight of the large guard approaching him. He grew pale and clammy as his body shook. When the guard stopped in front of Lucky, the boy's eyes rolled up in his head, and he made a guttural noise, "Uuuuaaaannhh!" then collapsed dramatically onto the floor in a dead faint.

~*~*~*~

Tony, still engrossed in his "Herbal Miracles" article, jumped slightly when the female guard spoke. "Sir, come with me. Your son seems to be having a medical problem."

Tony leaped to his feet and walked swiftly with the guard to the visitor's area. His stomach sank when he saw a large guard kneeling beside an obviously unconscious Lucky. The guard looked up at Tony and said, "He started freaking out when the first door closed behind us. He screamed and sprinted away. He was yanking on the metal bars and yelling. Then, he dropped to the floor. He hasn't moved since it happened."

"I'm a doctor," said Tony as he knelt beside Lucky and took his wrist to check his pulse. He noted Lucky's extreme pallor and cold, clammy skin. "He's in shock," Tony explained. "He needs medical attention." Tony grabbed Lucky's knees and lifted them to his chest so that his heart would receive more blood. "Raise up his head and chest," Tony instructed.

The female guard sat down on the floor and held Lucky's head in her lap. After a few minutes, Tony asked, "Do you have a bed or a cot somewhere so he can rest?" The burly guard nodded. "There's an employee lounge with a long couch in it." "Let's carry him there," suggested Tony. Tony and the large guard took Lucky's arms and legs and walked with him back down the corridor. The female guard locked the clanging metal door behind them. The two men carried an unconscious Lucky past surprised visitors in the waiting area who tittered and whispered.

The two men laid Lucky down on the employee lounge couch. Tony raised his legs again to pump blood to his heart. Tony looked at his watch. "He's been unconscious for about fifteen minutes," he stated. "If he doesn't wake up in the next ten minutes, we'll need to call for an ambulance."

The guard nodded. "What's his problem?" he asked curiously. Tony looked up and said, "His problem, among others, is that he was kidnapped and tortured for a year. The prison reminds him of that, but he wants to visit his father, so he has no choice but to try to come here." The guard shook his head. "He does remind me of some of my Viet Nam buddies," he said sadly. "That's pretty close," agreed Tony. "Hey, I really need to talk to his father about his son. Is there any way that I can do that?" The guard shook his head. "You can't visit him. The list is planned and very specific. But, I can allow you to make a phone call while you're here." Tony smiled gratefully. "Thanks so much." Tony looked back down at the couch when Lucky started to stir. "It might be better if he didn't see you when he wakes up?" asked Tony. The guard nodded and headed for the door. "I'll see about that phone call," he offered.

~*~*~*~

Half hour later…

Lucky sat up in the waiting area with a blanket around his shoulders. The female guard beside Lucky handed him an orange juice from the machine and patted him on the back.

~*~*~*~

Tony held the standard black prison phone in his hand and leaned against the desk.

"Luke," he said. "It's Tony Jones. I'm at the prison with Lucky."

"What's going on?" Luke asked worriedly. "The guards said that Lucky wouldn't be able to make the visit."

"Lucky's not well," explained Tony. "He had a flashback to the time when he was imprisoned by Faison, and he fainted. He was in shock, and it took us awhile to revive him. But, he's okay now. He's sitting in the waiting area."

"Give it to me straight, Jones!" Luke shouted. "What's going on with my boy? I have a right to know."

"Luke, he seems to be okay physically. But, emotionally and mentally, he's struggling." Tony wondered if he were turning into a counselor after trying to calm down yet one more Spencer.

"What does struggling mean, Tony? Spell it out," Luke hissed.

"Well, you know that Lucky has made a lot of progress, he has a job, a girlfriend, and he's enrolled in college."

"Yes, I know that," Luke said impatiently.

"Luke, he was sexually assaulted this past week, but he doesn't remember it - he's blanked it out of his mind. He's sinking into depression, and his PTSD has worsened," said Tony.

Tony held the phone away from his head in self-defense. "#*#*())@__$(**#**@!~!!" Luke shouted. "Aren't you supposed to be his surrogate father?" he sneered. "Where were you when this happened?"

"No, Luke, you are Lucky's father. I am his uncle and friend who is looking out for him the best I can while his father is in prison," Tony stated with an edge to his voice. "I understand that you're upset. We're all upset that Lucky has suffered so much. We're doing the best that we can to help him so he can put his life back together."

"We!" yelled Luke. "Who's this we, Jones? Who are you shacking up with now?"

Luke's statement caught Tony in a funny way, and he started laughing.

"OH, and what's so funny, Jones?" Luke asked.

"Luke, how often to you speak to your sister?" Tony replied with amusement.

"Barbara Jean and I write letters often," Luke sniffed defensively. "Phone calls and visits are for Lucky."

"You must not have received any letters in the last two days, because Barbara Jean and I are engaged to be married - again. And, don't you say it, Lucas Lorenzo Spencer Senior. I love that redheaded fireball more than life itself, and my only goal is to make her happy for the rest of her life."

Luke sputtered around, and Tony laughed, "What's the matter, Luke? Cat got your tongue?"

"Something like that," admitted Luke. "You will treat my baby sister with more respect than you did the last time, Jones. I may be in prison, but I still have my contacts," Luke hinted.

"Oh, yes, Luke, I know," said Tony. "I have some other news that concerns you."

"What NOW?" asked Luke. "It can't be any bigger than remarrying my baby sister, can it?"

"Bobbie will probably be awarded custody of Lulu soon. We hired a private investigator and found out some disturbing news about Laura."

"And what's the bitch done now? Married some Arabian oil merchant? Is she planning on moving to the Middle East with Ali Baba?"

"In all seriousness, Luke, she is neglecting Lulu and leading a rather unsavory lifestyle as a hooker and drug dealer."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Tony heard the sharp whoosh of Luke's exhalation. "Part of this tickles me to the core of my heart, but another part is very saddened at what the mother of my children has chosen to become. She has no qualms about destroying her children's lives."

"I agree with you on that point, Luke," stated Tony. "Bobbie and I would like to get married and share a family life with Lucas, Lucky and Lulu. But I want you to know that although we love your children more than life itself, we in no way can replace you or even Laura for that matter. You are their parents."

"Thank you, Tony," said Luke in a voice that was choked with emotion. "I love my boy and my little girl."

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