Chapter Ninety-Seven
Lucky remained seated in a chair as Kevin had requested, but he grew increasingly agitated. He rhythmically tapped his splinted finger on the wooden armrest of his chair, making a tinny sound with the metal casing. He alternately wrapped his feet around the legs of the chair, then released them to kick the legs with his heels. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, rapidly blinking as new thoughts released in his mind.
"Are you starting to feel calmer?" asked Kevin.
Lucky shook his head. "No," he said. "No way. I feel like I'm going to explode. There's no more room inside of me to take any more. I can't handle this. It's doing something to me. The dreams weren't too far off. This is my worst nightmare. That…that swinging gold medallion, the blood, the hole in his head, my mother laughing. It's driving me insane to think about it."
"What specifically are you having trouble dealing with?" asked Kevin. "Is it the images themselves, the knowledge that Stefan was responsible for your kidnapping, the killing, witnessing your mother with Stefan?"
"I've known for a long time that my mother is a slut," replied Lucky angrily. "It's not that. It's all of it together, I think. It's too much. I need to do something, but I don't know what. I have to get out of here. I need to run or something. Oh God, I want some heroin right now. I want it all to go away." Lucky's face took on a vague, distant glow as he recalled the numerous times in the past that he had gotten high.
He jumped up from his chair, staggering to the right. "I feel so guilty," he murmured. "It's all my fault. I never should have told. I was so stupid - like a little kid bawling to his daddy. I should have kept it to myself. Nikolas…oh no…" Lucky stopped mid-sentence with his hand to his mouth as the implications of his revealing hypnosis session crashed down on him. He turned his head left and right with a panicked motion, and fear flashed in his eyes. "He'll hate me! It's my fault. He's never going to talk to me again. No one will when they find out." Lucky backed up with his hands held out. When he ran into the bookcases lining the walls of Kevin's office, he made a small sound and slid down to the floor. "Faison was right," he said softly. "No one will ever want me around or love me when they find out the truth about me."
Kevin rose from his desk and walked over to Lucky, seating himself on the floor beside the boy. "Your dad knows everything that happened," he reminded Lucky. "He still loves you and wants to stay in contact with you. Why do you suppose that is?"
Lucky shook his head and was silent for a moment. "He says he loves me," explained Lucky. "But I don't understand why or if he's making it up."
"Lucky, do you suppose it's possible that your feeling guilty about situations you have no control over is something like a bad habit?" suggested Kevin. "Is it something that you immediately feel because it's comfortable and familiar?"
Lucky shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.
"Stefan Cassadine committed many crimes against you, your mother didn't acknowledge your needs, and your father lashed out in rage. How are you responsible for their actions?" questioned Kevin.
"Because I'm no good. I deserved it," Lucky countered as he sighed heavily and banged his head back onto the bookcase.
"So you're saying that you deserved to be kidnapped?" Kevin asked. "Why would someone deserve that?"
"I don't know," Lucky admitted reluctantly. "So maybe it wasn't my fault, but I still told when I should have kept my mouth shut, and now Stefan's dead, and my dad and mom are in jail."
"Lucky, I'm sure you remember what you said under hypnosis, but I could also play the tape back for you," stated Kevin. "The person who told your father was basically six years old. Remember your father asking you why you were talking like that? The events that happened between Stefan and your mother were too similar, in part, to what happened to you when you were six. You became confused and accessed some memories that you didn't even know you had. Essentially, you regressed. You wouldn't expect a young child to be able to keep silent about someone threatening him, someone who you were sure was going to kill you. You'd make a beeline for help from the nearest adult, wouldn't you?"
"Maybe," said Lucky.
"Lucky, I want you to practice looking at these situations from different angles, not just one where you are the bad person or the guilty party. Do you think it might be possible that your brother Nikolas could feel bad that his uncle was responsible for your kidnapping? And that he might not ever expect you to feel responsible?"
"I suppose it's possible," stated Lucky.
"I think it would be a good idea if Nikolas attended a session with you. He might need some support when you tell him what the hypnosis revealed, and you could benefit from listening closely to what he has to say. Do you want to ask him to come?"
Lucky nodded. "That's a good idea. Who knows what will happen when he finds out."
Kevin rose from the floor and dusted off his trousers. He held a hand out to Lucky to help him up. "Are you feeling better now after exploring some alternatives?" he asked. "I want you to write up a list of all of the ways that Nikolas could potentially react to this news. Try hard to come up with a long list. Review that list and then think about your brother, his personality and how he's interacted with you in recent months. Decide what is most likely to happen. You might surprise yourself."
Lucky nodded seriously. "I'll do it," he promised. An uneasy look crossed his face for a moment, and he looked down at the floor. "What about the rest of the memories that I can't remember? I must have walked around all dissociated for the majority of the time after I came home. Everything still seems blurry, except for the parts that came out under hypnosis. Is that the way it's always going to be?" Lucky's voice began cracking. "I feel like I'm not whole or complete. I'm wondering where the monsters are in the closet."
Kevin walked with Lucky back to the couch, where they both sat down. "Which time period are you concerned about?" Kevin asked. "What seems blurry to you?"
Lucky rubbed his forehead as he thought. "I only have a few memories of when I returned home, and they're kind of a jumble, not consistent. And, then there are big blank holes of time when I was living at Jakes, but then I was drinking a ton of liquor at that time. I also don't remember much of the first weeks I was here at GH. I remember being scared and freaked out most of the time - mostly unpleasant feelings, but not what I did or said."
"Lucky, why didn't you mention that you were distressed by this?" Kevin asked.
Lucky shrugged. "I was distracted?" he asked in a sarcastic tone. "There were too many other things that were wrong with me. I was trying to cope, to survive. I had a hard time staying alive - walking and breathing. Does that make sense?" He knit his eyebrows together and sighed. "I was submerged in a fog most of the time. Things are starting to feel clearer to me now."
Kevin smiled. "I see major improvement in your mood and your ability to mentally process and understand. To answer your questions about your lost memories, you likely had a series of alcoholic blackouts while you were at Jakes. You won't be able to recover those memories during that time. The confusion and fear that you felt when you were first admitted to the hospital is the bulk of what you were experiencing at the time, so you recollections are on target. As far as your memories of the time when you returned from your captivity - we could do some more hypnosis to recapture those memories. Is there any specific reason why you want to recall that time?"
Lucky's eyes filled with tears. "My mom said I was being a pain. I was annoying. I want to find out what I did to make her hate me so much, why she wanted to leave me." Lucky bent his head down, and a tear trailed along his flushed cheek. He folded his hands together and sighed. "I wonder if I said something mean to her."
Kevin's heart hurt for the sad young man sitting beside him. Kevin knew that Lucky had done nothing to merit his mother's harsh treatment. The responsibility lay with her, but how could he possibly convince Lucky?
"Lucky, what do you think would be enough to make a mother reject her son? What could he do to deserve that?"
Lucky chuckled. "Kill somebody?" he guessed.
"Anything else?" probed Kevin.
Lucky frowned. "I can't think of anything worse than that."
"Did you kill someone?" asked Kevin.
Lucky smiled shakily. "No," he said. "But I wanted to kill Faison. And, it's my fault that Stefan is dead. Maybe that's why she doesn't love me anymore."
"Lucky, people's motivations are not always obvious or clear - even to themselves. You may never know exactly why your mother treated you badly. Can you accept that?"
"No," said Lucky firmly. "I need to know so I can put it to rest."
"Then I suggest that you arrange to meet with your mother and ask her your questions," said Kevin.
A surprised look flooded Lucky's face. "Should I do that?" he questioned with a startled voice.
Kevin replied, "After you leave the hospital and are settled, it might be a good idea to arrange a visit with your mother in prison."
"I don't know if I'm ready for that," Lucky said.
"It's an option that you can consider in the future," Kevin mentioned, closing the subject. He looked down at his watch. "We still have forty minutes left. Do you want to try hypnosis again?"
Lucky's lips tightened, and he nodded.
~*~*~*~
Kevin looked down at his notepad and back at Lucky. "Lucky, I want you to go to the first evening, after dinner, when you returned home. What's happening? What do you see?"
"My parents are in the kitchen washing dishes. I'm in the living room with Lulu. She keeps staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable. I try to smile at her, but my face feels like it's cracking. Where have you been, Lucky? she asks. I look at her, but I don't answer. Mommy said you were in heaven, and Daddy said you're at peace, but I don't understand. I start feeling nervous because I remember Faison threatened to take her, too. I'll kill him, I tell her. Her eyes look scared. I'm telling mommy, she says. It's not right to hurt people. Lulu runs for the kitchen, and I panic. I'm going to be beaten. I need to hide, but I'm confused. I don't know where to go. I see a good hiding spot under the dining room table. I slip under the tablecloth and sit quietly under the table. I listen, and I hear my mom calling, Lucky, Lucky where are you? Luke! Find your son. He's probably in that closet again. Dammit! He's scaring Lulu. My dad is calling my name, and I hear doors opening and closing and then feet on the stairs."
"Lucky, how do you feel?" Kevin interjected.
"My stomach hurts. The food isn't sitting well. I'm curled up on my side, and I'm hoping they'll go away. I don't know if I can take another beating so soon after the last one. I don't want to die, but it feels like I will. There's nothing I can do. It's hopeless."
"What happens next?" asked Kevin.
"There are lots of voices talking, but I tune them out and think about Elizabeth - how pretty she is. I see a hand. It pulls the tablecloth away from the table, and I'm trapped. I scream loud and shoot out from under the table. I run for the door. I'm sobbing and crying because I can't get the doorknob to open fast. Finally, I yank the door open and step onto the porch, but my food starts coming up, and I have to stop by the steps and bend over to throw up into the bushes in the front yard. I'm on my hands and knees. I feel hands on my arms, and I struggle to get away. I hear, Cowboy, cowboy, settle down. It's your dad. He pulls me over to the porch steps, sits down and makes me sit on his lap. He has his arms around me, and he says that it's all right. You're home now. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm shaking hard, but I start to relax. He's stroking my hair telling me I'm okay. His arms are around me, and I feel better. Why were you under the table? he asks. I tense up, and I say, I was bad. They're going to beat me. If they do it again, I'm going to die. My dad sits me back down on the porch steps, but his arm is still around me. His voice sounds real soft, and he looks me in the eye. Lucky, who took you? Where did you go after the fire? I look around to see if anyone is nearby. I'm chewing on my thumbnail because I'm real nervous. Whisper it in my ear, says my dad. I lean over and whisper, Faison. My dad's face looks angry, and he swears.
My dad looks at me real closely. He picks up my arms and sees the big bruises and marks. He asks me to pull up my shirt, and I do. He makes a sharp hissing noise when he sees some older scars and fresh red marks. Lucky, I think we need to take you to the hospital so you can see a doctor, he says. My mind goes back to the compound and the white room with the metal table, and I jump to my feet. I try to run away, but my dad grabs my arm and holds tight." Lucky clenched his teeth as he lay on Kevin's couch, and he flailed his fists around. "Shhh, he says a couple of times, but I'm screaming NO NO NO NO! He walks me back to the house and promises me he won't take me anywhere. When we get back into the house, he goes to the liquor cabinet and pours a big drink. He hands me the glass and tells me to drink it. I gulp it down and hand the glass back to him. He laughs and pours me another. I drink about four glasses, and then I feel sleepy. He puts me in the bed and pulls up a chair. I won't let him turn out the light. I fall asleep."
"Where are you the following morning?" asked Kevin. "What are you doing?"
"Dad is at the club. Mom is home with Lulu and me. We are sitting in front of the television. We've been watching for several hours. Lulu was watching some cartoon movie, but I haven't been paying attention. I like being with her. She's my baby sister." Lucky smiled and his face shone with contentment. "The movie ends, and a new show comes on. I pick up the remote and flip through the channels." Lucky's face froze, and he gasped for breath. He whimpered and cowered on the couch.
"What's happening, Lucky?" Kevin asked quickly. "Explain what you see and feel."
"Men. Big men," Lucky said in a strangled voice. "They're chasing someone. They back me up to a wall. Uhhhhhh…I have to escape. I have to save Lulu. I take her hand and run to the door. We run outside. Lulu is pulling on my hand and trying to stop. Where are we going? she asks. Why are you crying? You're scaring me. I want mommy. The men, we've got to get out of here, I tell her. She can't walk fast enough, so I pick her up. She squirms and tries to get out of my arms, but I'm stronger. I start running down the street farther and farther from the men. I stop when I hear her crying my name. Lucky, Lucky, Lucky, she cries. I put her down and look around." Lucky drew his arms around himself and shivered. "Where am I? I don't know where I am, and I'm scared! I sit down on the grass. Lulu pats my arm. It's okay, Lucky she says. I know where we are. I'm crying and moving around on the grass. Lulu says, I can get us home. Don't cry Lucky. I'm a big girl. I can help you. She pulls on my arm, and I stand up. I'm still shivering. There's too much space, too much space! Lulu takes my hand, and we walk down the street. We are in front of the house. No, Lulu, I say. The bad men are in there. We have to hide. Mommy will keep us safe, she says.
We walk into the house, and Lulu yells, Mommy, mommy! My mom comes up from the basement with an empty laundry basket. She frowns when she sees me. Lucky is afraid, says Lulu. He needs a hug. He's afraid of the bad men. But I told him you would keep us safe. My mom gives me a hug and rubs my back, but she makes a face. Lucky you need to take a shower and change your clothes, she says. NO! I yell. You can't make me. Foster? Where's Foster. He's dead, my mom says. Foster will keep the men away, I say. No, he's dead, my mom says. I run up to my room and stay in there. I won't come out even for food."
"Lucky, move to the fourth day you are home and tell me what you see when you wake up in the morning," directed Kevin.
"I wake up, and there's no one in the chair. My dad is gone. The door opens, and my mom comes in the room. She sits on the edge of the bed and asks me how I am. I sit up on the bed and say, Okay. She opens her arms, and I hug her. We stay that way for a long time. It feels good to have my mom hug me. I thought I'd never see you again, I say. She asks me, Lucky where have you been. We thought you died in the fire. We almost went crazy thinking you were gone. I pull away from her. I don't know if I'm alive, I say. I don't feel alive. Maybe this isn't real. It's just another trick. Faison tricks me all the time. I can't win.
Why did they let you go when they did? she asks. I don't know, I say. They chained me up in a van, and they drove a long time. Then they stopped and threw me out. I came up to the house. I don't know. I start to feel uneasy because I think I do know why they let me go. I told about the Ice Princess - when I said I'd never tell. But I did. Lucky, what did they do to you when they held you? she asks. My mom has tears in her eyes, and she touches my face. I flinch and try to get out of the bed. She looks mad now. I jump from the bed and walk to the window. Nothing, I say. You don't look or act right, she says. Her voice sounds disappointed. Did somebody hurt you? I shake my head, but the memories of being with Faison rush into my mind. It hurts me. I hold my head in my hands and make a loud sound as I fall to the floor." Lucky's voice began to lose its momentum, and his face lost muscle tone. "I can hear my mom saying words at me, but they sound farther and farther away."
"Go on," Kevin instructed. "What's happening?"
"I can hear voices around me. I'm lying on the floor on my side. I hear, What's wrong with him, Luke? He just fell over like that. His eyes are blank. What were you talking about, Laura? Nothing much just what happened to him while he was gone. Laura, you have to tread lightly with him. Obviously something terrible happened, and he can't handle it. Be gentle with him. He scares easily. Luke, I don't know what the problem is with that boy. We're his family. We've welcomed him home. He shouldn't treat us like this. Laura, it's not about you. Cowboy's been hurt. Can't you tell? I make a couple of noises and move my arms and legs. I blink my eyes and see my mom and dad's faces. They look worried and confused. Where've ya been, cowboy, my dad says. What? I ask. I crawl away from them and go sit in a corner so I can be alone. He doesn't care about us anymore, my mom says. She sounds upset. My dad squats in front of me. Do you want to be alone? he asks me. I nod. They leave the room, and I fly under the bed. I feel safe and protected. No one can find me here. I'm there for a long time. Then I hear my dad say, Where is he? He opens the closet door, and I can hear him move the window blinds. He leaves the room but comes back after awhile. Cowboy? he asks. I try to make myself as small as possible under the bed. I don't want to be found. I see his face looking at me. He asks me to come out, but I don't budge. He tries to pull me out, but I grab onto the bedsprings. My hands hurt, I'm holding them so tight. I start making angry noises as he keeps trying to pull me out. He has my foot, but I'm shaking it hard. He gives up and says, Aren't you hungry? We have a nice breakfast downstairs. Pancakes - your favorite. I'm going to leave the room now, but you come downstairs when you're ready.
After awhile my stomach growls, and I think of the pancakes. I come out from under the bed and go to the bathroom. Then I go downstairs. Mom, dad, and Lulu are at the table, and everything smells good. Hi Lucky, says Lulu. She's wearing a bright blue dress with plastic beads for a necklace. She looks older than I remember her from before. Hi, I say. I sit down, and my mom gives me three pancakes. Thanks, I say and she smiles. I eat the pancakes real fast. I don't look up from the plate. I can't seem to stop staring at the knife beside the plate. I touch it a lot with my fingers. I pick it up and feel it's coolness on the palm of my hand. I rub it back and forth on the skin. It hurts but it feels good. I press down, and I see red. I hear my mom scream, Lucky! She jumps up and grabs my hand, but I won't let her have the knife, and we struggle for it. My dad jumps up from his chair and picks up Lulu. He takes her upstairs. When he comes down, my mom is crying, and she has the knife. I sit there with my head on the table. My dad takes my hand and cleans it with something then puts a Band-Aid on it. I can hear them talking about me. They both agree that I need a doctor. I just keep my head on the table. The wood feels smooth and cool on my cheek. Dad says they'll have to drug me to take me. He won't go voluntarily. Then get something, says my mother. We can't take him to General Hospital because of my job, she says. I don't want people to know. How about Mercy? asks my dad. Okay, says my mom. I'm at the table for a long time.
No one bothers me. It's like I'm here, but part of me isn't. I don't feel real. I'm not sure where I am. My dad taps me on my shoulder. Drink this, he says. He pulls me back in my seat. He holds a glass of orange juice to my lips. Drink, he says. I swallow, but it tastes terrible, and I gag and cough. Just a bit more, he says. I shake my head, but he keeps putting the glass to my lips. I keep swallowing until it's all gone and look around the table at the empty plates with shreds of pancake and syrup on them. My eyes are stuck on a tall glass of milk for a long time, and I feel so afraid. I can hear a clock ticking in the background. I feel woozy. The table and plates become blurry. My head goes down on the table, and I close my eyes. Get the car, I hear my mom say." Lucky's face settled, and he appeared to be asleep and relaxed.
"What's the next thing you remember, Lucky?" asked Kevin.
Lucky frowned. "I feel like I'm being carried somewhere. I hear my dad say, I've got him, Laura. Go tell someone he's waking up, and he's going to freak out. We need some help here. I moan and start to move my arms and legs around. Easy there, cowboy, I hear my dad say. I hear some other voice, and my dad says, He was kidnapped, and it looks like he was tortured. He needs medical attention, but he's fragile. He's been acting strangely, and he's pretty violent. You'll have to knock him out to get near him. We gave him a few sleeping pills to bring him here. I try to open my eyes, but every time they open, they close again. Everything is so bright, and there are all kinds of sounds around me. I'm upset. I don't know what's going on. I hear my dad say cowboy over and over, but I'm so scared. I try to run away. I can't stand, but I'm kicking a lot. I start screaming. There are a lot of people around me when I open my eyes. I scream more, and try to hit them. I'm pressed down into the floor with people holding onto me. I can't remember anything else."
Kevin made a note on his pad to try to access any medical records that Mercy might have on Lucky.
"What do you remember next?" he asked.
"My eyes are closed, but I can hear my dad talking to someone. He's very underweight. He has wounds consistent with severe beatings over a long period of time. There's evidence of several fractures that healed by themselves with no setting. And, he'll need HIV tests regularly for a year. He's been sexually assaulted, multiple times probably. I hear my dad say what? The initial test results should be available in a week, the other voice says. I recommend that he be admitted to the psychiatric facility for several days for observation. I open my eyes and see white - lots of it. Oh no." Lucky's features contorted and lhe ooked frantic. "I'm in a hospital gown, and my dad is standing in front of me. He looks real sad. I leap up from the table and head for the door. I have it open and almost make it out, but someone grabs me from behind. I can feel something sharp in my hip, and I cry out. That's all I remember."
"Lucky, move ahead to the next time that you wake up," instructed Kevin.
Lucky jerked harshly on the couch and looked stressed. "I'm in Faison's compound," he whispered. "I'm strapped down to a bed! It's all white, and they keep hurting me with sharp needles. I cry and cry, but no one will save me. Everything's confused. I don't recognize anyone." Lucky started breathing faster and his face grew red as he violently flexed the muscles in his arms and legs against an invisible restraint. Kevin became concerned with Lucky's reaction, and said, "Lucky move forward two days. What's happening?"
"I'm sitting in a wheelchair? My dad is rolling it toward a door. I smile when I see my mom. She is holding open a car door. She kisses me on the cheek. I think I was in a hospital, but I'm not sure. I feel happy to be with my parents. They talk in low voices while we ride in the car. I hear my dad say a few words, but not the whole sentences."
"What does he say?" prompted Kevin.
"Um, he says, psychosis, needs followup, doc said family therapy. My mom says he can't go to GH and our insurance won't cover Mercy. This has been expensive enough as it is. My dad starts arguing with my mom. He says screw your job, woman, this is our son we're talking about. What will people say, my mom yells. I don't like the angry voices, so I tune them out. I think about the place that's all cloudy and safe and warm. I don't hear anything." Lucky's face looked blank again, and his breathing slowed down.
"Lucky, on the count of three, you'll wake up and remember everything that you said. One, two, three."
Lucky opened his eyes and sighed. He rubbed his hands over his face and sat up with his shoulders slumped. "Guess I've always been mental," he quipped as he tried unsuccessfully to grin. "And an embarrassment to my mother."
~*~*~*~
"I'm ready to go back to my room," Lucky announced to John the psych tech. John lay down the magazine that he was reading and rose from the chair in the hall. "Thanks for waiting," Lucky added.
"Not a problem," replied John. "You seem good," he commented as he looked closely at Lucky and noticed that the boy seemed in control of himself.
Lucky smiled tensely. "Oh just grand," he stated sarcastically.
~*~*~*~
Bobbie picked up the ringing phone at the nurse's station. "Kevin," she said with surprise. Bobbie listened intently. "No I wasn't aware that Lucky had been hospitalized at Mercy. I remember that time, though. Lucky's sister Lulu stayed with me off and on for about a month. I don't think Luke and Laura told anyone about Lucky being back for several weeks. It seemed odd, but I assumed he needed some time to reorient himself. I think I knew about Lucky for awhile before they informed anyone else. They were real careful about who they told." Bobbie listened again and nodded. "Sure, I'll see if I can dig up any records at Mercy. Do you really think that they didn't use Lucky's real name? Now that might be a challenge. They probably used his first name, but I'll have to think about other last names."
~*~*~*~
Lucky stood at the window in his room with his back to the psych tech that was assigned to him. He was still on suicide watch but had adjusted better to being supervised constantly. Lucky placed his hand on the window glass and felt the radiating, warm heat of the sun shining on his palm. His thoughts wandered and settled on Elizabeth, remembering the first time that he'd seen her upon returning home. It had been two weeks since Lucky had been dumped into the street in front of his house. His parents had kept him home, trying to help him adjust to being out of captivity. Only Bobbie, and of course, Stefan Cassadine knew that he was home. Lucky was taking several prescription drugs that the doc at Mercy had prescribed, but later when he finally ran out of pills, no one had suggested that he follow up with another doctor. The tension was mounting in the Spencer home with Luke and Laura fighting constantly, and many details in their lives were slipping. One day, Lucky had asked to see Elizabeth.
"Dad, when can I see her?" Lucky asked as he shifted his feet uneasily, placing his hands in his pockets. Luke stopped watering the grass, turning the nozzle on the hose, and laying it on the ground. He looked curiously at his son. "Who do you mean?" he asked. "Elizabeth," Lucky stated decisively. "I need to see her, dad." Luke's face softened, remembering Lucky's devotion to the Webber girl. "It's time," Luke said. "You need to see your girl. I'll go over to Audrey Hardy's tonight and discuss it with them. Maybe Elizabeth can come over here for dessert or something. How about tomorrow night if we can work it out?" Lucky nodded and said, "Okay," softly. He sat down on the back porch steps and watched his father puttering in the yard. Lucky didn't let Luke out of his sight for longer than a few minutes at a time. Luke understood and didn't complain about his son's clinging. Lulu was with Bobbie, and Laura didn't bother to spend much time in the home these days, preferring the excuses of her late meetings and after-work errands to time spent with her husband and son.
.
.
.
Lucky sat nervously on the front porch, waiting for Elizabeth to arrive. His dad had said that she would visit tonight. He'd been sitting there for about two hours, not exactly sure when she'd arrive, but anxiously anticipating their meeting. His dad had said that she'd cried when he told her that he was alive. He didn't say much else about it. Lucky felt sleepy. He'd been feeling dopey for a long time. His parents gave him pills throughout the day, but he didn't ask about them or wonder what they were. He just accepted them and drank down the water. It seemed easier that way. Sometimes he felt a queasy uneasiness when he saw the pills, but he didn't know why. Things were so fuzzy in his mind. He was lucky if he could remember what had happened the day before. His right elbow rested on the arm of a folding chair, and he nestled his head in his hand with his eyes closed. He must have started drifting to sleep because his legs gave a startled jerk when he heard her voice.
"Lucky."
His eyes opened slowly, and Elizabeth smiled through her tears. Lucky rose slowly from his chair, and Elizabeth appeared shocked as she studied him. Lucky stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. "Elizabeth," he whispered, making her hair dance with his light breath. He held her tightly for a minute and then separated from her, sniffing and wiping away the tears that built up in his eyes. He reached out a tentative hand and ran his index finger down her cheek, allowing it to rest on her full lips. "You're so beautiful," he whispered reverently. "You kept me alive." He gently cupped her chin with his hand and tilted his head in apology as the tears filled his eyes again and began rolling down his cheeks. His lips swelled and reddened with emotion as he smiled a smile that never quite reached his sad eyes. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he stared at Elizabeth with a hopeful intensity.
Elizabeth took Lucky's hand and sat both of them down on the porch steps. She placed his hand in her lap and looked searchingly at the young man beside her. "What have you done since you've been home?" she asked politely. A shadow of uneasy emotion passed over Lucky's face. Lucky's heart hurt with a knowledge that never quite made it to his brain. Elizabeth had slipped away from him. Their love had a tentative feel that had lost its permanence. "Nothing," he replied vaguely, glancing off to the side of the porch. "I graduated from high school," Elizabeth offered again, trying to find a connection with this person who at one time had been her life, but who now seemed like a stranger. "I missed going to the prom with you. I wish you'd been here."
Lucky shook his head. "Me, too," he agreed.
"I'm a freshman at PCU now," Elizabeth continued excitedly. "I really love it. I'm in a sorority. It's a lot of fun. Maybe you can enroll at the university and join a fraternity," she suggested.
Lucky rested his chin in his hand. "They won't let me finish high school," he said morosely. "I'm too old. They won't let me back in. My dad tried, but they said no. They said I was a dropout. So, I can't go to college right now."
Elizabeth blinked with surprise. "Oh," she said in a disappointed voice. "What are you going to do?" she asked.
Lucky stood up and set his face. He was feeling pressured and upset. He turned away. "I don't know."
Elizabeth stood up and dusted off her pants. "Let's go inside and have some dessert," she suggested.
Lucky removed his hand from the window and held it against the side of his face. He felt the warmth absorbing into his cheek by osmosis. "Why couldn't you keep on loving me?" he murmured. Lucky heard his name called out, and he turned around with a questioning look on his face.
"Special delivery for you," said the tech who handed a brightly colored envelope to Lucky. There was no return address on the envelope, so he didn't know whom it was from. Lucky tore at the paper and lifted out a card. There were no words on the front of the card, only a photo of a happy, cheerful meadow full of flowers, birds, and butterflies. Lucky opened the card and broke out into a big smile. He laughed happily.
~*~
Dear Lucky,
I bet you thought you'd never hear from me again! It's Cindy. Remember me? I sure remember you. I figured you went back to the hospital, so I sent you the card there. I hope you feel better. I was worried about you and that seizure. Anyway, so you want to know what happened to me? After they sent me to Juvy, they decided to put me in a group home. Guess what? I like it! They let me go back to the house, and I now have all of my stuff, including my dogs. They're all on top of my new dresser.
I'm going to school again. I plan to go to college after I graduate, but I'm only a sophomore, so I have a ways to go. Being in the group home is kind of like it was living with Tamara, but I don't have to work, you know. I like it - did I say that?
I know we won't be able to see each other again for lots of reasons, so I wanted to tell you how much I liked being with you. I always was crazy about you. I know you don't like to hear it, but you are so pretty to me. (There, I said it) Being with you, even if it was only for a couple of days was so special. I'll never forget our time together - never ever. I hope you think of me sometimes, too. And, you are a good lover, Lucky Spencer! - ha ha. Get better soon, will you?
Love always,
Cindy
xoxoxoxox
~*~
Lucky read the letter over and over about fifteen times. He smiled and placed it back into the envelope. "Would you open a dresser drawer?" he asked the tech, pointing to the drawers that were always locked. "I want to keep this card."
.