Chapter Eighty-Three
Lucky gulped in the fresh night air with rapid breaths. That was close, too close. Was leaving the hospital a crime? Could they bust him for that? He slipped into a nearby alley and reached for his butane lighter. He angrily ripped at the protective plastic covering his cigarette pack. Why do they make these things so hard to get into? he wondered. Lucky relaxed in relief as he placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it. He pulled in a long drag and let it out slowly. He repeatedly pulled on the cigarette, and it turned into a butt within a minute. He reached for another cigarette, and then another. He leaned against the cold and damp wall, and his jacket absorbed the funky smell.
Lucky bent his head down as unwelcome thoughts entered his mind and took residence. How was he going to get by without any sleep? He couldn't keep having those dreams, not when he was sharing a twin bed with Cindy. He was afraid he might hurt her one night if he swung his arm in the wrong direction. He had to figure out a way to stop those dreams - permanently. Lucky's thoughts shifted to Tony's words, that he could call Kevin at any time, no hassle. But, therapy and all that talking about nothing is what caused this in the first place, he rationalized to himself. I'm not going back. Lucky flung his fifth cigarette to the ground and stood staring at a puddle of stagnant water for minutes. He watched in detachment as a small amount of an oily substance swirled lazily in the middle depths. "Stop," he said out loud with his hands to his head as unwanted thoughts and feelings reared up inside of him, needling and poking around his brain. He felt the swift blade of his mother's butcher knife hacking away at his back and the delighted cackle of her laughter. "Go away," he said tensely. There's no way he could go back to Cindy like this.
Lucky walked out of the alley and started down the street. He looked at his watch. It was now almost 3:00AM. He wondered if anyone was hanging out at this hour or if the whole world was in bed by now.
~*~*~*~
He hit paydirt. Most of the clubs were closing for the evening and stopped supplying alcohol at 2:30 in the morning. Some imbibers insisted that the party continue and went in search of the local dealers. As Lucky walked along the street where most of the nightclubs were, he spotted a drug transaction taking place on the corner of the street. After waiting at a respectful distance, Lucky sauntered up to the dealer. The dealer looked at Lucky with a mixture of greediness, disdain and wariness. "I'd like to buy some stuff," said Lucky. The dealer looked closely at him again. "Who are you?" he sniffed. "You look like a baby cop. Go back to your crib and suck on a pacifier," he sneered.
Lucky held up both of his hands and shook his head. "No, no, I'm not a cop, really, I'm not, no, I hate them," said Lucky hurriedly. "I just need some stuff to get me through the night, okay? I want some H and something to keep me awake tomorrow so I can work." Lucky looked on the verge of tears. "Come on, help me out," he pleaded. An idea crossed his mind. "I used to buy from Joey C., do you know him? I…I've been out of circulation, so I haven't been around for awhile."
The dealer made a disgusted face. "That prick?" he snorted. "He's doin' time now. You're lucky he didn't cut your stuff with arsenic. The little prick." The dealer glanced at Lucky again. "You got cash?" he asked. When Lucky nodded, he directed him over to his car. "Get in," he ordered, opening up the passenger door to the late model car.
The dealer settled into his seat and turned to face Lucky. "Now, what did you say you wanted?"
"Some smack and some speed or something better if you have it," Lucky replied anxiously.
"How much cash you got?"
"Forty-five dollars," said Lucky. He remembered that he got paid the next day, and with the free food, figured he'd be okay until then.
"That won't buy you much," sniffed the dealer.
"One hit and the speed," insisted Lucky. "And I want to mainline."
"A man who knows his mind," laughed the dealer. "I like that. Tell you what. I'll fix you some stuff quick, and give you a freebie for the wake up call. How's that for customer service."
Lucky nodded and watched as the dealer pulled out the works and began filling a new syringe with heroin. The dealer didn't flinch or miss a beat when Lucky rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and exposed his scarred arm. "Been through the war, huh?" commented the dealer as he tied off Lucky's arm. "I know lots of veterans. Some of them are my best friends." He injected the drug into Lucky's bulging vein, and the boy relaxed and dropped his head almost immediately as he felt the powerful rush invading the very core of his body and soul. When the dealer was finished, he handed Lucky a baggie. "You take all of that and you'll get no sleep for thirty-six hours," he said. "Guaranteed by truck drivers across the country. Put it in your pocket for later."
The dealer exited the car and pulled Lucky out of the front seat. Lucky could barely stand, and the dealer positioned him upright and turned him around. "Go down that way," he instructed with a pointed finger. "There's some bushes and trees down there where you can crash and nobody will hassle you. Take off." He pushed Lucky away from him and went in search of other customers.
Lucky stumbled and dragged his feet toward his destination half a block away. He saw the towering bushes outlining the perimeter of a piece of property bordered by some boarded up, has-been businesses. "Aaaaah," he said aloud as he sank to the ground and gave himself over to the drug completely. No thoughts, no feelings, only chemical relief from a painful existence. He rolled over onto his side and secured himself under a bush, letting the universe float away from him and continue on its different course. He was staying here.
~*~*~*~
He woke up to the sound of loud snuffling and heavy breathing. Something cold and wet assaulted his face, and he opened his bloodshot eyes to the sight of a mangy dog raising its leg and showering his chest with a hot stream of urine. "Get outta here," he managed to grit out while he waved his other arm to shoo away the dirty creature.
Lucky slowly sat up beside a bush and muttered to himself. "Great. Shit. This is just wonderful." Lucky's sweatshirt was saturated with the stray dog's urine, and he wrinkled his nose at the bad smell. The sun sat high in the sky, and he wondered what time it was. He gulped as he realized that his watch read 1:05PM. He had to be at work in less than an hour, and he was dirty, disheveled and still high off of the heroin that he'd shot up the night before. He struggled to his feet and swayed before moving forward with halting steps. He figured on going back to Cindy's house to take a quick shower and change into his uniform since she'd given him a key to the house. Hopefully the dreaded Tamara wouldn't be there. She gave him the evil eye every time she saw him. She was overly protective of Cindy he supposed.
As Lucky walked through the decayed streets toward Cindy's house, several people passed by him and gave him a very wide berth based on his looks, smell and behavior. Lucky was in such a hurry that he didn't even think to smooth out his hair, and it stood out from his head, giving him a wild look, which was only complemented by his occasional stumble to the side as he walked.
Finally, he reached Cindy's house, inserted the key into the lock and entered when the door opened. He quickly raced up the stairs to Cindy's bedroom to retrieve his uniform. There was a note on her chest of drawers. It read: Lucky, Hope you're okay. I'll see you tonight at 10 or so? xoxoxo Cindy.
Lucky smiled and stuffed the note into his pocket. He felt the baggie with the two tablets of speed and made a mental note to take some later. Lucky stepped out into the hallway and listened intently. There didn't seem to be anyone home. He tiptoed to the bathroom in case someone was asleep in one of the bedrooms and took a five-minute shower, not bothering to shave. He took his sweatshirt and washed the dog urine out of it by repeatedly scrubbing a bar of soap over the bad spot. Once in his uniform, he took the sweatshirt and draped it over a chair in Cindy's room, hoping it'd be dry by that evening. He only had three outfits besides his uniforms in his possession, so he couldn't afford to throw anything away. Lucky flung himself back on Cindy's bed, luxuriating in the pillows and drawing her scent deep into his nostrils. He smiled briefly, then popped up and ran out the door.
~*~*~*~
"Tony!" Lt. Taggert called out as he entered the front door to the free-clinic. He held out his hand to Dr. Jones and shook it while he smiled brightly. "Long time no see. How's the clinic going?"
"Everything's great, Marcus," replied Tony. "Business as usual. Lots of people coming in off the streets. Are you here about Lucky?"
Taggert shifted his feet and pulled his coat back with one hand on his hip. "Yeah, Tony," he said. "I received your message on my machine last night and thought I'd come to see you personally. Do you have someplace private where we can talk?"
"Right this way." Tony motioned to his office in the back.
Taggert took a seat and leaned back in his chair. "I have our first sighting of the kid," he said. "I interviewed a couple of patrol cops in the area as they came off their evening shifts. One cop had an encounter with Lucky early this morning in a convenience store. Kid said he was out buying cigarettes. The cop was suspicious of him because of the way he was acting - all nervous and skittish. The cop said he thought the kid was going to faint when he looked at his driver's license." Taggert paused. "So, he's still in the area. We just don't know where he's working or where he's holed up yet. We should be able to figure out where he's working soon enough. I handed out a photocopy of his picture to more local beat cops."
Tony shook his head. "It's been three days since I last had contact with him. Kevin and I are both very worried that he's been without his medications for so long with both his psychiatric problems and his epilepsy. We need to find him soon and at least talk him into some form of treatment."
"Do you think he's a danger to himself or to other people?" asked Taggert seriously.
"I'm not sure," Tony said honestly. "He's obviously not thinking clearly, but I don't see him hurting another person. Whether or not he'll take care of himself appropriately, that's another matter."
"Are you thinking of going to court over this?"
Tony shrugged. "Kevin thinks it would be better if we could talk him into it, have it be his own idea. But, he did mention blue papering Lucky if we can't establish regular contact with him."
Taggert sighed. "I was just asking because I'd volunteer to handle him personally since he knows me. I'd hate to see him brought up on charges for assaulting an officer if it came down to a struggle of some sort. I'm looking out for his best interests, and I know that you are, too. Let me now if you need me for anything else," Taggert added as he rose from his seat and shook Tony's hand.
~*~*~*~
Lucky worked hard all day, cooking food in the back, cleaning up, and taking orders. He'd been on his feet all day and actively wished he'd taken the speed when he was changing his clothes earlier in the day. The effects of the previous night's heroin had finally worn off, so at least he could think now. He was afraid he didn't get much done on the first two hours of his shift. He remembered standing in the middle of the back room, holding a mop and staring at the floor in a daze.
Tonight, before he left work, they said they'd give him his first paycheck. It couldn't come too soon. He had to pay Cindy a small amount of money for room and board, set some aside, and spend the rest on recreation, mainly drugs. He figured he'd have $100 for that use and wondered if it'd be enough to get him through the week. He also needed to pick up some more condoms. There's no way he planned on giving up sex, not when the memories were so recent of his lying in a bed alone in Faison's compound, in Jake's slum apartment, or a hospital room with no one to love or to touch.
Lucky wondered if his relationship with Emily resembled the one he'd had with Elizabeth. Both of them seemed so remote and unattainable for different reasons. Elizabeth had been young, a rape victim unsure of herself and not wanting a sexual relationship with anyone, even him. Emily, well, she was a Quartermaine even though she herself was down to earth. He had longed for both girls in his separate captivities, and he wondered if that meant something. Elizabeth had turned out to be a selfish bitch as far as he was concerned. Emily was still special and important to him, although he felt like he'd treated her badly by refusing to return her letters and now by being unfaithful to her. Lucky yearned to talk to her like old times. He supposed she still had a piece of his heart.
Lucky reflected that maybe he wasn't any better than Elizabeth. But Cindy was different, she understood him like no one else. The best part was that she accepted him as he was. She seemed to like him with long hair or short, scars or no scars, clean or drug addict and alcoholic. She wanted him, however he came. And, she was almost like a drug to him - he couldn't get enough of her soft skin, her curves and the way she smiled and looked dreamily at him after they'd made love. But, the more he thought about it, Emily offered the same unconditional love that Cindy did, only the big difference was that he wasn't sure he deserved Emily - she was rich, smart, a model.
Cindy didn't frighten him. She was a hooker, plain and simple. That fact bothered him some. He didn't want all of those men touching her or receiving what she'd given him so freely. But, what else was she supposed to do to support herself, and him, now it seemed. Maybe he could save up enough money to get them a separate apartment and a wider bed. Boy, the thought of a big bed with Cindy in it, and him curled up around her was like heaven on earth. He craved the warmth and physical closeness of her willing body, and he dared hope it was possible that she needed his, too.
Lucky sighed and shook his head. He needed to pull his head out of the clouds and get cracking on the back room cleanup.
~*~*~*~
"Kevin, thanks for meeting with me. I wanted to tell you the latest news about Lucky and hear your take on it." Tony sat down on Kevin's couch and picked up a magazine, absentmindedly rifling through the pages.
"Lt. Taggert made it a special point to talk to the late night beat cops in the general Cortland Street area. He showed them a photo of Lucky and asked if they'd seen him. One cop saw him last night around 2:30AM at a 24-hour convenience store. He was buying cigarettes and acted very nervous when the cop questioned him about why he was out and how old he was. When the officer mentioned that the address on his driver's license was far from Cortland Street, he acted panicky and said he was staying with a friend. That's all we know for now. What do you think?"
"So he's out buying cigarettes in the middle of the night," Kevin commented as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "I'd interpret that to mean that he can't sleep or doesn't want to sleep. He's probably still troubled by his dreams. He often turns to cigarettes when he's nervous or upset, doesn't he?"
Tony nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. They're a legal drug for him. He really wolfs them down when he starts it up."
"Lucky is law-abiding to the best of his ability," Kevin remarked. "I'd say that he told the truth when the police officer questioned him about why he was in the area. I think he's found himself a friend or two and has holed up with them. So at least he's not sleeping on the streets. I'm concerned right now that he may be back on drugs. If he's not taking his prescribed meds, he'll be feeling the effects of his mental illness. He has a history of trying to self-medicate with illegal substances."
"Kevin, what should I do?" asked Tony tensely. "I'm at the end of my rope. I can't think of anything else. Bobbie is concerned that I'm holding on too tightly. She thinks I need to back off a bit, but what if I do and he ends up dead?" Tony groaned and stood up, massaging his neck and pacing.
Kevin's eyes softened. "Tony, I think the point is that you have done all that is possible at this point. How Lucky decides to handle his life, for better or for worse, is ultimately his responsibility as an adult. No, you shouldn't stop caring or pulling for him to get well, but if the situation doesn't turn out like you want, then please don't feel that it's your fault. Lucky has an unusual number of problems and even patients with more minor issues slip up and fall back into old patterns of behavior. This has nothing to do with anything that you did or did not do."
"Is it time for me to go to court to have them forcibly commit him?" questioned Tony. He flushed and looked at the floor, stunned that he heard himself speak those words. "Put him back on the locked ward so he doesn't escape again?"
Kevin sighed and folded his hands on his desk. "Here's what I recommend. Have your friend Lt. Taggert keep an eye out for Lucky. If the kid seems to be leading a relatively normal life, crime free, then let's leave him alone for now. He'll work through his issues on his own and perhaps reach out for help later. But, if there is any reasonable suspicion that he's involved with drugs again, I'd say go to court to obtain the order. He'll only spiral out of control that much quicker if he's taking illegal drugs. I hate to say it, but that's what I suspect is happening now."
~*~*~*~
"Hi sweetie!" Lucky's face glowed when Cindy entered the restaurant. He swept her up in his arms and gave her a very big kiss. "I just got paid," he said happily, "and I want to take you out on a date."
"A date? For little ole me?" she squealed.
"Yes, you," Lucky said with dancing eyes. "How about tomorrow night? We can go to a late night movie."
"Hmmm…" said Cindy with an index finger to her red, polished lips. "Sounds wonderful. Do I get to pick the movie?"
"Of course," replied Lucky as he bent to kiss her again. "Let's go home," he said with suggestive, raised eyebrows.
Cindy's face set, and she replied. "I have some business to take care of first. It shouldn't take long, maybe an hour or two. You can wait up for me."
Lucky's face fell and reflected his disappointment. "You're not going to see any customers right before you come home, are you?" he asked heavily. He grabbed her around the waist and squeezed. "Cause I want you all to myself."
Cindy shrugged off his hands and looked unhappy. "I have a business," she stated firmly. "You knew that when you met me. Sometimes my regular customers set their own hours. What's all this about?"
Lucky's eyes saddened, and he looked at the floor. "I just want to be with you, that's all," he choked out.
"Then, I'll be home later," Cindy replied as she caressed the side of his face with her hand.
"Okay," Lucky mumbled as he walked away. He turned around to look at her. "Be careful," he added.
~*~*~*~
One hour later…
Cindy smiled when she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Lucky would be happy that she was home early. She couldn't wait to surprise him. She tingled inside at the thought of going out on a date with him. She didn't know what it was about him. He was so cute and sweet, and it was like he didn't even know it. She thought that she must have fallen for him the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. He didn't seem to judge her either for the way she earned their living. Sure, they had their spat tonight, but she hoped he'd get used to it. She had no problem with the definitions of making love versus having sex. To her, they were two completely different things. She never mixed love with plain old working sex. He'd learn that.
As she walked past the bathroom, Cindy heard the shower running. She thought everyone else was out working. Hmm…maybe my sweet Lucky is taking a shower. I wonder if he'd mind if I joined him? Cindy lightly knocked on the door and opened it a crack. The room was filled with steam, so it took her a minute to realize that there was a nearly naked body lying motionless on the floor.
Cindy gasped and flung open the door. Her chin quivered as she knelt next to Lucky's still body. There was a pile of clothes beside him, and he was only wearing his briefs. He laid face down, and his head was turned slightly to the side. She started crying when she noticed he wasn't moving and there was a pool of blood beside his face.
"Lucky!" she cried out. "Lucky, what happened to you?" His eyes were closed, but they opened slightly, and he moaned as she turned him over onto his back. "Baby, what's the matter?" she asked tearfully. "Speak to me!" Cindy lightly tapped Lucky on the side of his face and was rewarded with another moan.
Lucky blinked and then closed his eyes again. He opened his mouth several times, attempting to talk. Finally, he got a few words out. "Pants," he said. "In pocket." Cindy frowned in confusion, but retrieved Lucky's jeans and started poking her hands into the various pockets. In one pocket she felt a metal chain, and she pulled it out. She saw that it was a bracelet, and she turned it over. She read the word, Epilepsy.
"Oh, Lucky, did you pass out?" she asked quickly. "Should I call an ambulance or something? Are you going to be alright? Tell me what I can do for you."
"I'm okay," Lucky said in a slurred voice. He tried to sit up, but melted back down to the floor.
"No, you're not okay," she insisted. "You can't even sit up. And what's all that blood on the floor. Are you hurt?"
"Tongue," replied Lucky thickly. "Ow. Bit it."
Cindy flinched. "Oooo," she said.
Lucky finally sat up and leaned against the wall. He placed his hand on his forehead. "Help me to bed?" he asked. "Get a towel. Don't want to bleed on the bed."
Cindy wet a washcloth and wiped the blood off of Lucky's face. "Let me see your tongue," she ordered. Lucky cringed and opened his mouth. "Oh, yuck," she said. "You need stitches I think." Lucky shook his head no.
Cindy handed Lucky a paper cup full of water and lead him to the sink. He rinsed his mouth out and grimaced with pain. "Oh god," he said. "I'm dyin' here."
After Cindy deposited Lucky in bed, she gently placed a hand towel under his face. "How's that?" she asked.
"Stay with me," Lucky replied. "Come here." He held out his arms. Cindy quickly changed into her sleep shirt and slipped into bed with him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his forehead. "I've gotcha," she said happily. "I'm not going anywhere."