Devolution TOC

Chapter Seventy-Four

Two days later…

Well, he finally got his wish. He was off of the locked ward and onto the minimal security psychiatric floor. Only now he wasn't so sure about this idea. Lucky was seated in a large, open recreational area full of other patients with TV's blaring and people talking loudly. The repetitious sounds made him nauseous, and he'd pulled a chair into a corner, as far away from the crowds as he could manage. He'd been in the room for two solid hours, turning his back and occasionally covering his ears to blot out the confusing noises. A couple of people had approached him to play cards, but he turned his back on them and looked out the window, pretending like he didn't hear them speaking to him. He'd grown accustomed to his relative isolation on the locked ward, and had no intention of developing new "friendships" with crazy people he didn't care about.

He'd spent nearly all day yesterday in the main part of the hospital, taking test after stupid boring test. They told him that his brain had a scar on it, that the two times he hit his head had damaged it somehow. The symptoms that he'd experienced, the headaches, dizziness, difficulty with lights and sounds, might go away or they may be permanent. There was no way to tell. And, the seizures would need to be monitored in case he developed epilepsy. He'd already had five seizures in the last week, one that he kept to himself because he was afraid. Now, they added yet another med to his already substantial daily doses, an anticonvulsant they called it.

Lucky kicked hard with his heel, bashing the chair leg. He tried to fight off his growing fear and sadness. He really missed Tony. Lucky laid his head down on the side of the chair and watched the dust lazily swirl through the beam of sunlight streaming through the window. He felt so tired and doped up, a combination of his concussion aftereffects and medications. That's funny. When he was taking drugs on the street, that was bad, but this was supposed to be good for him. What was the difference really? He desperately wanted Tony to tell him what was going on in his brain, to reassure him and tell him that everything would be alright, that he'd be back to normal in no time. Tony would be returning to Port Charles tomorrow, but Lucky wanted him now. He needed his uncle's hugs, junk food, silly jokes and foolish optimism, true oxygen for a scared young man.

Lucky ran his fingers through his long, shaggy hair, pulling it out and away from his face. He repeatedly stroked the beard on his chin as his eyes glazed over with the distraction of his inner monologue. He'd stopped shaving when he was first admitted to GH. At first the nurses and orderlies had bathed and shaved him when he was catatonic and psychotic, but even afterward he wasn't allowed to use a regular razor, so it was easier to have a beard. He wasn't finished with puberty yet, and hadn't completely filled out - body or beard wise. The sides of his face were relatively smooth, but he had a decent mustache and goatee, a mixture of blond and light brown hair. He looked more like Luke every day.

Lucky was so bored. It was too hard to try to read since the words blurred or stopped making sense ten minutes after picking up a book. And, the television was pure torture with its bright, flashing images and jarring sounds. So, Lucky was left in the prison of his racing thoughts and emotions. It was hard for him to adjust to a new place with varied routines and personnel. He missed Barb's no-nonsense optimism and caring. The staff didn't seem as nice to him here and acted hurried or distracted. They had a lot more people to supervise and had no time for problems or resistant patients. Lucky noticed that you either toed the line or paid the price. They wouldn't hesitate to put you in restraints if you created a scene. So far, he'd managed to blend himself into the background and become inconspicuous. They did bother him about his "social interaction skills," though. Lucky snickered to himself. Maybe he'd start a few underground, high stakes poker games here. He'd be king of the candy bars, the psychiatric ward robber baron. Or, he could form a resistance organization to rebel against the totalitarian GH regime. He fancied blackmailing orderlies and passing secret notes under patients' doors in the dead of the night.

A wave of nausea suddenly engulfed him and dragged him under. Oh no, he thought, not again. He was already half lying on the chair, so his dizziness didn't make him drop to the floor. His right hand and leg twitched convulsively, but only for a few seconds, so no one noticed but him. Lucky decided to keep that knowledge to himself. He tiredly nestled his head further into the chair's cushion, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

~*~*~*~

The nurses' shifts were changing, and the new nurse asked, inclining her head in Lucky's direction, "I see there's a new patient on the floor. What's the scoop on this one?"

The nurse who was preparing to leave shut and locked her desk drawer. "Name's Lucky Spencer," she said in a bored voice. "He came here two days ago. He's one of Dr. Collins' trauma patients," she said. "He acts more schizophrenic to me," she added, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes. "But then, I'm not the doc. He's pretty antisocial, won't interact with any other patients, just keeps to himself. He's been sleeping in that chair all afternoon. Oh, yeah, he has seizures, so be on the lookout for that if he acts funny. Um, there's a no restraint order on his chart, which is a bit strange. But you know Dr. Collins. All of his patients are the elite," she said conversationally. "Good luck with your shift," she smiled.

~*~*~*~

Next day…

Lucky nervously waited in the Family Visitation Room. Lulu was on her way to visit him. He repeatedly smoothed his hair and brushed off his clothes, which consisted of jeans and a tee-shirt with the ubiquitous Velcro sneakers. The room was decorated in cheerful, primary colors, as if the happy mood of the room should rub off on the stressed families that visited equally stressed patients.

Lucky had thoroughly reviewed the visit with Kevin. He knew that this was a test of a sort, and he intended to pass. At this point in time, he'd do anything to have more visits and eventually gain his freedom. Kevin warned him that Lulu might be skittish since she was only six years old and hadn't seen her brother in two years. He shouldn't take it personally. He should ask Lulu a lot of questions about her life, which would make her feel more comfortable. If he felt upset or like he couldn't control himself, he had a preset signal to give to Bobbie, a peace sign with his right hand. Then, Bobbie would leave with Lulu before he had a meltdown in front of her. He felt so nervous, excited and happy all at the same time. His hands were shaking and sweating, and he stuffed them in his pockets to calm them down or at least ignore them.

Kevin had told him several weeks ago that Bobbie and Tony had custody of Lulu now, and that his mother was now in prison and couldn't care for her. Guilt had overtaken Lucky when he heard that. His sister was all alone and in need of family, but he was stuck in the hospital and useless to her.

~*~*~*~

Bobbie held Lulu's hand as they walked through the hospital corridors. She had already spoken to Kevin about handling the visit, and she and Lulu had had a long talk last night and a refresher on the way over in the car. Kevin had suggested that the two siblings play a game together, something fun and constructive that they could do together. It would also take the pressure off of Lucky so he wouldn't have to talk the whole time and feel responsible for carrying the conversation.

"Remember what we talked about last night," Bobbie reminded Lulu as she gently placed her hand on Lulu's shoulder. "Lucky has been sick, so he may be tired or act differently. Don't move quickly around him. Take it slow and easy, okay?"

"Yes, Aunt Bobbie," said Lulu. She was trying so hard to act like a big girl, but her excitement was overtaking her, tickling her insides and racing into her feet.

Bobbie opened the door to the room with the placard marked "Family Visitation." Lucky was seated at a round white table, with his head bowed down and his hands folded in front of him.

"Lucky!" said Lulu excitedly. She walked quickly over to Lucky. Lucky's head raised, and his eyes lit up when he saw his baby sister. He opened his arms widely, and Lulu hopped inside them. Her face nestled into her brother's hair, and somewhere in her brain it registered that this was Lucky, he smelled so familiar and homey. The tears poured down Lucky's cheeks in a happy stream, and when brother and sister parted, Lulu said shyly. "You're crying a whole bunch."

Lucky smiled weakly and swept away his tears with the back of his hand. "Those are happy tears," he explained as he looked deeply into Lulu's bright blue eyes.

Lulu laughed lightly. "That's exactly what Nikky said," she exclaimed with surprise.

Lucky's brow twitched in momentary confusion, but he let it pass. His eyes drank in his sister's appearance. She was so big, a monster compared to the last time he'd seen her. And she was missing teeth! Her face was firmly entrenched in young girlhood, not the near toddler, round fat cheeks that he'd remembered. Time had passed, and his baby sister was growing up. Something about the arrangement of her features and the soft color of her skin reminded Lucky of his mother.

Lulu grew serious as she gazed at her older brother. He was Lucky, she could tell that, but he was different somehow, both in appearance and expression. Aunt Bobbie had warned her about that, so she was trying to be a big girl and not act scared. But, he did scare her somehow, deep inside her heart. Lulu took a step back and frowned. He was taller, thinner, and his face looked different. It wasn't the fading bruises on it, but the set of his eyes, the highness of his cheekbones, and the sad, heaviness in his face. He looked tired and worn, like he needed to sleep for a real long time. His hair was so long! She'd never seen long hair like that on a man.

Lulu reached for Lucky's hair and patted and stroked it. "You have hair like Mommy," she said matter-of-factly.

Lucky flinched and pulled away, his expression stony. He tried to recover, and gave Lulu a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're a big girl now," he commented. "You can write real well. Thank you for the cards, Lulu-belle." Kevin's instructions resurfaced in his mind, and he asked, "How do you like school, Lulu? Tell me about it."

Lulu sat down in the chair next to Lucky and held his hand, swinging it back and forth as she laughed. "I love school," she said in a low whisper. "I learn all kinds of things, and I have friends, and we get to play on the playground, and make things in art class!"

"That's great!" said Lucky with a bit of forced cheerfulness. "How is Lucas?" he asked.

"Lucas is hyper," she announced in a superior tone. "He's a boy, and he can't help himself." Lucky's eyes danced with surprise and amusement, and Bobbie tittered in her chair. "But we have fun playing. He's teaching me how to roller-blade." Lucky nodded seriously.

Bobbie noticed the lull in the conversation and produced a pack of cards. "How about playing a card game with your brother?" she suggested to Lulu. Lulu took the cards from Bobbie and placed them on the table. "Do you want to play go-fish like we used to?" she asked. "I can beat you every time now, I bet. I've practiced.".

Lucky laughed lightly. "Okay, Lesley Lu. Let's see what you're made of. Deal those cards."

Lulu tried to shuffle the cards, but only managed to spill them all over the table. Lucky gathered them up and expertly shuffled them four different ways as Lulu looked on with glee. "You're so good at that. I want you to teach me some day," she added. Lucky smiled at her with a lopsided grin and a raised eyebrow. He handed her back the cards and instructed her to deal.

Lucky and Lulu played seven hands of cards, and Lulu won five of those hands. Lucky didn't want to admit it, but Lulu had won fair and square with no help on his part. He couldn't concentrate very well, and a throbbing headache was robbing him of his desire to continue. It was like he could remember one or two things at a time, but not place them in the proper sequence. By the time he could integrate his thoughts, the game would progress. Lulu happily chattered about her dolls, the movie she, Lucas and Nikolas had seen and about everything under the sun in the world of a little girl. Lucky commented occasionally, but let her talk.

Bobbie watched them interact and was thrilled at how happy Lulu seemed. It was a good idea to bring them together, she thought. She became concerned about Lucky, though. He seemed to grow more tired by the minute, and his eyes took on a hooded, dazed aspect. A couple of times, Lulu had to remind him when it was his turn and pat him on the arm. He'd been staring off into space.

Lucky started feeling dizzy and nauseous, and the sound of Lulu's voice as well as the print on the cards began to blur in his mind. He raised his right hand in Bobbie's direction and made a peace sign.

"Lulu, give Lucky a hug and a kiss," Bobbie instructed as she rose from her seat. "We need to let him rest," she said. "We'll come back to visit another day."

Lulu opened her mouth to protest, but gathered the cards together. She remembered the talk that she and her aunt had last night. "Okay," she said. She walked over to Lucky and gave him a kiss on his cheek and a light hug. "Your cheek is fuzzy like Daddy's," she said frankly.

Lucky gave her a weak smile. "Thanks for coming, Lulu," he said with a soft, strained voice. "You made my day."

"Bye-bye," said Lulu as she waved at Lucky and walked out the door.

Lucky waved back. "Bye," he said.

~*~*~*~

Bobbie looked around for a nurse. She was anxious but trying to hide it from Lulu. Finally, she found one and stopped her in the hallway. "Lulu, stand there for a minute," she said firmly while pointing to a wall. Bobbie stepped away and said to the nurse. "My nephew is in the Family Visitation room. He's had a head injury and seizures. He doesn't look well. Would you please check on him? I have to take his sister to her doctor's appointment, but I'll call back to check on him. Thank you."

~*~*~*~

Lucky woke up suddenly. He'd been asleep for about four hours after his visit with Lulu. A nurse had come into the Family Visitation room and found him bent over the table, his head down on the smooth surface and his arms sprawled out. He'd pulled the trashcan over to the table and vomited into it. She had tried to rouse him, but he'd been belligerent and had made a weak attempt at taking a swing at her before slumping over the table again. She had to call two male orderlies to come and get him. They half carried, half dragged him back to his room and deposited him on his bed. The nurse made a notation on his chart that he'd had another seizure.

Lucky laid back on his bed with his arm wrapped around his head. His thoughts drifted to the enormity of all  his problems and the heavy burdens weighing on him. Why is this happening to me? he wondered with a sad weariness. What did I do to deserve this? God, it would be easier to handle my life if I knew there was a purpose for it. Lucky rolled over on his side and fell into a sound sleep.

~*~*~*~

He was standing in the park by his old house on 24 Royal Street. He was near the swings on the playground, leaning against a tree that edged the perimeter. He felt relaxed and impartial, a casual observer of the universe. A little girl was swinging up and down by herself on the swings but suddenly stopped with a harsh slash of her feet hitting on the ground. She rose from her swing and turned toward Lucky. It was BJ. BJ soundlessly walked away from the playground without turning again, and Lucky watched until she disappeared on the horizon.

Tony crossed the street and walked with a slow, heavy pace toward the park, his face sad and lonely. He stopped by the swings and watched an empty swing swaying in the breeze. Bobbie materialized beside him, and they both watched the empty swing as tears starting trailing down their cheeks.

Lucky heard a sad little girl crying in the middle of the woods behind him. It was Lulu. She walked by him, cringing and flinching as if someone were hitting and yelling at her. She stood by Lucky and held his hand as she watched Tony and Bobbie. Tony and Bobbie looked up and called out to her. She released Lucky's hand, laughed and ran over to them, hugging them both tightly. She sat on the swing, and Tony and Bobbie both pushed her higher and higher until her laugher rang through the whole park and floated up and away into the clouds.

Tony looked behind him and saw Lucky leaning against the tree. He winked at Lucky and waved his hand. Lucky smiled and waved back.

In the next instant, Lucky was in Pentonville prison, sitting on a bunk beside his father. His father didn't see him, but Lucky could tell that he felt cut off from the rest of the world and very lonely. The cold, concrete walls of his cell were bare of any decoration, just gray, sullen and depressing. Luke reached out for the bible sitting next to his bunk and opened it, removing a photograph of Lucky with his face brutally displayed in a bruised, beaten mess. Luke's eyes filled with tears and his mouth was turned down at the corners. Lucky watched as the life force crept back into his father's features, illuminating them in a sweeping motion. Luke rose and posted Lucky's photo on the concrete cell wall, and the walls seemed to pulse and hum with life. Bright flowers started blooming between the harsh cracks in the concrete, and Luke smiled with a look of determination highlighting his bright blue eyes.

Lucky rose from the bunk and walked down the long prison hallway, the metal bars clanging and banging as he passed them. At the end of the hallway, he stopped before a tiny, forgotten prison cell. He reached out and grasped the cold, metal bars with tentative fingers. His mother rose from her narrow bunk and approached the bars. Her hand grasped the bars near Lucky, but did not touch him. Lucky felt warmth invading his chest, almost like it was on fire. He glanced down and saw a red heart like a bottle with its stopper uncorked, spilling the flames of a fire. He looked back up and reached his hand out to his mother, resting it on top of her bent head with a gentle pressure. She looked up with tears in her eyes and a small smile. Lucky smiled back and the prison bars seemed to fade away before his eyes. When he turned away, he woke up.

Lucky's eyes adjusted to the dark, and he registered the outline of his bed and dresser. He blinked several times and sat up, rubbing his hand over his eyes. The dream curled around in his brain, refusing to let go and return to the twilight of his mind. It permanently nestled into his consciousness and stayed there, making its presence known when he woke up the next morning.

Next...

.