Devolution TOC

Chapter Ninety-Three

"I am so embarrassed," moaned Nikolas as he looked over at the small crowd of people smiling and clapping at his performance. Lucky laughed and strummed a jaunty set of chords on his guitar.

"Where did you learn how to sing like that?" asked Tony as he entered the room with another man.

"Greece," stated Nikolas matter-of-factly. "Stefan insisted that I learn the classical arts, including voice."

"You have a marvelous baritone," said Pastor Walker.

"This baritone needs to go back to work," said Nikolas as he stood to his feet, brushed his suit off distractedly and tried in vain to stop from blushing. "Lucky, keep your guitar for awhile, and I'll pick it up before I leave for home. I'm going to remember this. You owe me one," he chuckled as he waved an index finger in Lucky's direction and looked stern.

"Sure thing, bro," said Lucky with a wide grin and a wave.

The psych tech walked out with Nikolas. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes," he said to Tony. "You'll be here the entire time?"

Tony nodded.

"Lucky, we talked this morning about Pastor Walker coming to see you," said Tony slowly in order to gauge Lucky's readiness for a visitor. He searched Lucky's face. "You said you were ready for a visitor?"

Lucky nodded and looked down at his guitar, feeling shy and embarrassed to be seen in a locked psychiatric ward.

Pastor Walker drew up a chair closer to Lucky. "You and your brother are very musical," he observed. "Maybe I can talk you into performing sometime in a church service when you're feeling better." He raised his eyebrows, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

Lucky smiled slightly. "I wouldn't mind, but I think I can only trick my brother into singing so many times. He has stage fright and doesn't want anyone to hear him." Lucky said. "But he sure surprised me when I first heard him. He sounds like an opera singer."

"Is that a Martin guitar?" asked the pastor with real interest as he pointed to Lucky's guitar. Lucky glanced down at the instrument and lightly stroked the top of it. "Yeah," he replied. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas. Do you play?"

The pastor nodded. "Sometimes. I'm definitely an amateur, but I can recognize a great guitar when I see one. That's very nice."

"My brother's pretty cool," said Lucky. "He said he spent two hours in the store trying to find the best guitar for my present. I gave him an electronic organizer and programmed it for him - he's technically impaired." Lucky coughed and his eyes took on a sad, distant look as he recalled a time that he was working and able to buy gifts and visit relatives in their homes. His face fell as a wave of sadness overcame him, and he set his guitar on the bed, taking in deep breaths to try and maintain his composure. He repeatedly rubbed the blanket on his bed, trying to distract himself.

The pastor noticed the shift in Lucky's mood, and said gently, "Your uncle mentioned that you're having a medical procedure tomorrow. Since you haven't been able to attend church, I thought you might want to participate in communion, right here in your room. Would you like that?"

Lucky's eyes shifted to the pastor briefly, then looked down. "I don't know," he said in a strained voice. "I haven't been a very good person. I'm embarrassed. I took drugs and did other stuff. I don't think God wants to have anything to do with someone like me." Lucky felt dizzy and nauseous from the aftereffects of his recent sedation, and he carefully leaned his head back against the headboard. The oppressive weight of his drug taking and betrayal of Emily hung on him like seaweed covering a drowning man.

"Why don't we bow our heads for a moment of silence," suggested the pastor. "You can confess your sins privately before partaking of the sacrament. God hears you if you repent and turn to him."

"Okay." Everyone in the room bowed their heads, and Lucky began thinking over his recent behavior and prayed silently. God, I'm sorry I've turned away from you. I hurt everyone around me - my aunt, uncle, father, brother, girlfriend and the people at the hospital - myself too I guess. I took illegal drugs and had sex with a girl when I shouldn't have. My Aunt Bobbie says I should forgive myself but I don't know how. I feel so guilty. And I'm sorry for trying to kill myself again. I don't know what to do, how to think or feel. I'm so lost and confused. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes. I want to do better. Help me. Show me what to do. Amen.

Lucky raised his head, and the pastor picked up a box that he brought with him. He pulled out two books and handed one to Lucky. "Turn to page 75," he instructed. Lucky turned the pages and looked down at the printed type.

"I'll read the regular type, and you'll respond with the bold type," the pastor commented. He reached down and pulled out the elements of the sacrament.

The pastor handed Lucky a wafer of bread and said, "The body of Christ, given for you."

Lucky accepted the wafer and ate the bread.

The pastor recited, "The blood of Christ, shed for you," and handed Lucky a small cup of grape juice, substituting that for wine since he knew of Lucky's alcoholism. Lucky drank down the grape juice and handed the cup back to the pastor, who continued, "The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you and keep you in his grace."

"Amen," said Lucky, reading the words from the liturgy in the book.

The pastor then prayed,

"Almighty God, you
Gave your Son both as
A sacrifice for sin and a
Model for the godly life.
Enable us to receive
Him always with
Thanksgiving and to
Conform our lives to
His, through the same
Jesus Christ our
Lord."

"Amen," said Lucky.

Pastor Walker made a sign of the cross as he recited,

"Almighty God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
Bless you now and forever."

"Amen," repeated Lucky.

The pastor help his hand up near Lucky as he blessed him saying,

"The Lord bless you and keep you
The Lord make his face to shine upon you
And be gracious to you.
The Lord look upon you with favor and
Give you peace."

"Amen," said Lucky as he closed the book.

"Would you like me to pray with you?" asked the pastor. When Lucky nodded, he gently took Lucky's hand and prayed,

"O merciful Father, you teach us in your Holy Word that you do not willingly afflict or grieve your children. Look with pity on the sorrows of Lucky Spencer, your servant, for whom we pray. Remember Lucky, O Lord, in your mercy. Strengthen him in patience, comfort him with the mercy of your goodness, let your presence shine on him, and give him peace through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Pastor Walker continued to hold Lucky's hand and looked him in the eye. "Lucky, will you do one thing for me and for yourself?" he asked softly. "When you wake up every morning, the first thing, before you rise from your bed, will you think of three things that you are thankful for and thank God for those things? Do this every day. Will you remember?"

Lucky looked into the man's eyes and agreed. "Yes, I'll remember."

"Good," said the pastor heartily as he patted then released Lucky's hand. "Now can I hear you play one more song on your guitar before I leave?"

"Okay," laughed Lucky as he reached for the instrument. "I think I've played more today than the last three months."

~*~*~*~

"How's he doing?" asked Barb as she looked over the psych tech's shoulder when he charted Lucky's latest activities before leaving his shift.

"A whole lot better than this morning," said the man, shaking his head. "Maybe all the kid needed was to play his guitar and visit with a clergyman. He's a lot calmer now, not as twitchy or argumentative. He's actually pleasant for a change. Hope it lasts."

~*~*~*~

Next morning…

He was already drowsy with the heavy sedative that they gave him and didn't protest when they loaded him onto the gurney and rested his IV bag next to him. He blinked his eyes, losing the battle to keep them open. He heard voices around him and felt the movement of the gurney through the hallways and onto the elevator. Oh, I need to think of my three things, he thought distractedly. Um, thank you God for keeping me alive, thank you for my Uncle Tony and Aunt Bobbie, thank you for…hmm…a sunny day, I saw the sun when we passed by a window.

Lucky tensed up when they entered the operating room. His eyes shot open with fear and trepidation. "I don't know," he protested groggily. "I don't want to be here." He jerked and cried out when he heard the clank of an instrument on a metal tray and looked over at the metal table beside him. "Let me go," he insisted as he tried unsuccessfully to sit up.

"Hey, Lucky," said Tony brightly, taking his hand and looking down at him. "I'm going to be here for the whole procedure. I won't let anything bad happen to you. You have my promise."

Lucky took in a deep breath and held it, releasing it slowly. "I'm afraid," he said edgily. "This…it's like Faison," he said tearfully. "Don't let them hurt me. I can't take anymore."

Kevin stood by Lucky and said calmly and slowly, "Remember when we talked about having ECT? We'll give you anesthesia, and before you know it you'll be back in your room. You won't feel or remember anything unpleasant."

"Okay," replied Lucky without conviction. The orderlies lifted him onto the metal table, and he could barely keep himself from sobbing as the technicians applied the electrodes to his head and chest. Help me God, help me! he pleaded silently, confusing his present situation with previous torture at the hands of Faison. Lucky tensed up with all of the movement and strangers milling around him. "Tony!" he called out desperately. "Uncle Tony," he said with wide eyes. "Don't let them hurt me. Please. I'll be good."

"I'll hold your hand while you receive your anesthetic, okay, Lucky?" Tony's kind eyes calmed down Lucky a degree, and the boy tried to blank his mind so he could get through the procedure. When the technicians were finished with Lucky, the anesthesiologist introduced himself to a kid that was rigid with fear and fiercely gripping Tony's hand. Less than a minute after the anesthesiologist injected the medication into Lucky's IV, his eyelids began fluttering, and Tony felt the tension of Lucky's hand relax and then turn limp.

~*~*~*~

The first thing he felt when he woke up was a violent nausea that seized his stomach and twisted through his entire body accompanied by a thumping headache. "Uh, uh" he said groggily as he tried to sit up, certain that he was going to have an accident. A nurse quickly walked to his side and handed him a plastic receptacle that he promptly clutched to his chest just in case. He looked around in confusion. "Uncle Tony?" he asked. "Where am I? I want my uncle."

"He was out in the hall talking to Dr. Collins," stated the nurse. "I'll see if he's still there."

Tony walked into the room with the nurse and went over to Lucky. "Hi there," he said softly. "I heard you were asking for me."

"Uncle Tony," pleaded Lucky. "What am I doing here? I want to go home. I don't feel good. Take me home." He peered around Tony and took in the sight of the functional dresser and two doorways. "I don't remember this place," he said shakily.

"Lucky, you just had an ECT treatment," explained Tony. "You don't feel well because you've had an induced seizure. That will pass soon. You're in the hospital so you can get better. This is your room. You'll go home soon, but not right now. Okay?"

Lucky frowned in confusion. He curled into a ball and shook. "Why is everyone always hurting me?" he asked sadly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I won't do it again." Lucky's face tensed, and his features betrayed his fear.

Tony looked over at Kevin who had entered the room. Kevin gave Tony a look that read indicated this was a normal reaction. Tony patted Lucky on the back and stroked his hair. "No one is hurting you," he commented. "You feel confused right now, but you're going to be okay. I'll stay here with you until your Aunt Bobbie comes."

Lucky stayed curled up and said dejectedly, "Aunt Bobbie. I want Aunt Bobbie. Oooooh, I feel so sick."

~*~*~*~

"I brought you a sandwich and drink from home," said Bobbie. She handed the plastic, Ziploc bag and thermos to Lucky. "I thought you might like a break from the hospital food," she added. Bobbie looked closely at Lucky, concerned after what Tony told her of his behavior an hour ago. Lucky still looked on edge and shaky to her somehow.

Lucky smiled when he breathed in the aroma of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Peanut butter!" he exclaimed. "I haven't had any since before I came here." Lucky took a big bite out of the sandwich. "What's in the thermos?" he asked with a mouth full of peanut butter.

"Chocolate milk," stated Bobbie. She laughed when Lucky's eyes lit up. Always works for Lulu when she's down. Laura must have believed in the power of chocolate. "Maybe I should bring you a supply of those sandwiches," she commented. "You seem pretty happy with that."

Lucky took a long swig of chocolate milk before replying. "It's my favorite sandwich," he stated frankly. "Thanks, Aunt Bobbie."

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" asked Bobbie as she searched his face. "Tony said you were feeling sick with a headache earlier? How's your head?"

Lucky shrugged. "They gave me some Tylenol, and my head doesn't hurt anymore. My stomach's better, too. I thought I was going to lose it, but I'm okay now." Lucky's face shifted, and he took on a worried expression. "I can't remember things, though. I don't remember this room. I had a different room - it was bigger and the dresser was a different color." His hands shook as he tightly recapped the Thermos and handed it back to Bobbie. "I don't know why they won't let me go home," his voice quivered. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, honey, you didn't do anything wrong. You might be confused for a day or two after you have ECT. Do you remember Kevin and Tony telling you that?"

Lucky nodded. "Yeah. But I still feel afraid or like I don't know what's happening to me." He pulled his Velcro shoe near him, and repeatedly pulled on the tie with a nervous motion of his right hand. He sighed and looked down at his hand.

"Lucky, do you remember taking drugs, having an overdose and coming back to the hospital?" asked Bobbie carefully.

Lucky nodded. "I remember bits and pieces of it."

"Do you remember that you felt really sad after that?" Bobbie continued.

Lucky took in a deep breath and looked away with tears in his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted.

"The ECT that you received this morning should help you to not feel so sad," Bobbie explained, unsure of how Lucky's brain could handle more technical information at that moment.

"Why does everyone hate me?" Lucky interrupted. His face tightened, and he looked confused as to why he asked that.

"Who do you think hates you?"

Lucky lowered his forehead to his raised knees and hid his face from his aunt. "Everybody," he mumbled.

"That doesn't help me," said Bobbie. "Give me some names, and we can talk about it."

Lucky turned away to face the wall. "My mom…and…and Stefan." He whispered the last name tensely.

"Lucky where's this coming from?" asked Bobbie with concern.

"Lucky turned back to Bobbie and said softly, "Dreams. I keep dreaming about them. Every night. They won't go away or leave me alone. He laughs at me. He looks dead." Lucky's voice started climbing with hysteria. "He says things, and my mom laughs. She won't stop laughing. I want her to STOP!" Lucky's eyes filled with tears, and he looked around desperately. He grabbed the bear that Emily had given him and hugged it tightly.

"Lucky, do I have your permission to share what you told me with Kevin? "

"I don't care," replied Lucky as he lay his head down on a pillow.

Bobbie touched Lucky's arm. "Lucky," she said. "I don't think that your mother hates you. She has some problems in her life, and she took her problems out on you, treated you badly. But that doesn't mean that she hates you. People say and do things that are hurtful sometimes. They speak without taking the time to remember that they might cause harm. Does that make sense to you?"