Lucky's Girl (24 page)

Jerry had put a boot in Lucky’s neck, cutting off his ability to use his voice. Then he’d given him the sock with plenty of duct tape. The two men had both sat under the Big Tree and cried like people who’d seen their best friends cut down in front of them, and neither of them had any idea what they were crying for. From that point forward they wore a Walkman turned up full blast when they were alone with Lucky.

You want to agree with him, you want to do what he wants you to do, and if you don’t, if you resist, you experience loss and fear that almost no one can endure.

Jerry looked at Errol and shook his head.

This was the only way.

Errol nodded and both men got out of the car. The doors slammed and they opened the rear passenger door. Jerry pulled Lucky out by the ankle chains and he flopped on the cold concrete of the alley. Errol pulled him up by the shoulders and leaned him against the door. They squatted down so he could see their eyes and know their determination.

Jerry began. “
Lucky, you piece of shit
…”

He shook his head and said to Errol. “I should have just pulled over, shot him and left him to the vultures.”

Errol nodded. “Somebody would have found him. Sooner or later someone would have found him.”

Jerry blew out his breath and pulled it together. “Okay, Lucky, here’s how it’s gonna be. I’m gonna take this one hundred dollar bill and put it in your pocket. You are going to go into that bus station and buy a ticket to somewhere. Anywhere. I don’t care where. Just be on the first bus out of here. We’re going to wait in the parking lot. If you aren’t on the first bus, or if you walk outside for any reason we will run you over and call it an accident.”

He cleared his throat and lit a cigarette. He blew smoke in Lucky’s face.

“You’re going to get on the first bus out of here and you’re going to sit in the seat right behind the driver. If you don’t do that, we’ll find you and we will fucking kill you.

Do you understand? Nod once if you do.”

Lucky just looked at them with big uncomprehending eyes. No one had spoken to him like that, no one had ever told him something he didn’t want to hear.

He honestly didn’t get it.

Jerry nodded. Jerry understood. He grabbed Lucky by the throat and squeezed until Lucky’s eyes bulged and his skin had gone purple. Then he let go and punched Lucky in the gut with everything he had. Errol seconded the motion and they took turns until they were sure Lucky understood. They took the chains off and told him to walk a hundred feet before taking off the duct tape. They saw him double over and vomit. They saw him go into the bus station and buy the ticket. They followed the bus halfway to Detroit.

Lucky got it, and Lucky wasn’t coming back.

***

Kenny had walked all day, from his Uncle’s cabin into town, then around the town itself. He’d trekked around the Lake, wading across it from the far shore to Grove Island. He returned home, took the rowboat, sculled across the lake and up the tributary to the Paint River. He recognized everything and nothing. What should have been green and full of life was grey and still, what had been color and comfort was cold and dead.

His best friend had gone. That roadtrip they’d been talking about since they’d seen
Easy Rider
and Lucky had read
On The Road
was happening without him. He didn’t mind, because he hated Mason James now. But still, he’d been robbed of the dream even if it had been just that – a dream.

Mary was dead. As ugly as everything was, that was the hardest cut.

He’d always thought Lucky would sow his wild oats but in the end would settle down with the girl who had loved him longest. Even after Lucky had made her fuck him he’d still held out this hope. Standing under the leaves of the Big Tree he thought about his first time with Mary on this same spot. He fell to his knees and vomited. He’d never held another person in such contempt as he now held himself. Even though it was Christie who’d physically killed Mary, he’d taken part in her slow murder ever since the day Lucky had made her his plaything.

And that’s exactly what she’d been to Mason, and ultimately to him as well; a plaything. Not a human being with hopes and feelings, someone who dreamed that the boy she loved would love her back if only she did everything he wanted.

Everything
.

She had given him everything, and in the end had died hoping.

And Christie? She’d had hopes and dreams too. Different, totally different, but still a person with a path in life. Lucky hadn’t cared. He’d worked his manipulations and had steered her straight into the rocks. She’d been strong. Part of her had fought back. Part of her had fought what he’d made her, and it had driven her mad, and she’d snapped. She’d killed her
parents
. She’d killed Mary. And then she had tried to kill him, neither knowing nor differentiating between fucking and killing him.
That look in her eyes
. Bestial, like an animal gone berserk, a dog or a wolf cornered in fight or flight fury.

He ambled back and sat in the little rowboat, letting the subtle currents carry him. He drifted out to the center of the lake and beyond, towards the church.
Abby and the Rev.
The people who’d filled in the blanks when his uncle couldn’t. They’d defined the words Good, and Right and Kind. What had happened to them? It’s one thing to have a broken heart, it’s another thing to lose a son, but what Lucky had done was worse than both. And Kenny had participated in all of it. He’d betrayed them and had broken their hearts as surely as Lucky had done.

The rowboat drifted ‘til it had touched the shore behind the big wooden church. There was a crowd in the parking lot but he couldn’t see either Abby or the Rev. They were probably still at home, crushed by shock and loss.

The crowd stared silently as he got out of the boat and walked into their midst. He said nothing and neither did they, because nothing needed to be said.
The spell had been broken
. Lucky was gone. There were no clouds in the sky but Elton was still a shadow. Cold, alone and dead. Lucky was gone and it was over. There were no pieces to pick up but neither was there any starting over.

Kenny left the rowboat, wandering home to tell his uncle he was leaving. He didn’t have a plan, he didn’t have anywhere to go to, but the writing was on the wall and the message was clear. Kenny got it, and Kenny wasn’t coming back.

PART 3

NOW IS THE ONLY THING THAT’S REAL

CHAPTER 1

Beclowned
. For some goddamned reason, that word of all words was the first to pop into Jerry’s head as his eyes strained against the horrifically bright lights of the hospital.

I’ve come so far from those terrible days at the end of the 80’s only to crack apart when I set eyes on him. I should have killed him. I had every opportunity to do so. He’s here, I’m here and I’m who I am because of him. I wonder if he’s who he is now because of me? And all I can think of is this stupid word over and over; beclowned, beclowned, beclowned!

Over and over, playing like a sick tape-loop in his head. And why? Why would this word pop into his head? Was it a lack of oxygen to the gray matter because he’d had a real heart attack this time? Oh yes, he’d had minor tremors before but not the big earthquake that would put him in a box. They would burble, flupper or hammer in his chest, then he’d go lightheaded and a drag on his cigarette would crash in his chest like a hit from a ball-peen hammer. Yeah, all of those things had happened, but there’s a cure for those.

Drink.

Just drink on time and don’t pretend you’ll get away without it. And when it happens, even after all of the requisite drinking, well, just drink more and lay low.

…beclowned, beclowned, beclowned…

Maybe it was time to eat the gun. Just stick it in your mouth, pull back the hammer, and let fly. There’d be a moment where it would be really loud but that would be over as soon as the brains registered they were no longer in the skull, and no longer connected to the earholes.

It’s not going to get any better. You can’t be a cop if you can’t ride a cruiser, and Elton isn’t going to pass muster at the capital anymore. The town’s charter would be revoked and they’d be incorporated into another one, another town with a cop shop not run by a drunk who shot kids.

You shot kids.

You shot three kids in your time you worthless piece of shit and now I’m here to watch you put that gun in your face and shoot the one you should have shot all those years ago; yourself.

…Beclowned, beclowned, beclowned…

You killed hope. You killed the rebirth of this town. You saw things which you didn’t understand in your kid-killing pig brain and you did what a good little pig would do. You suffocated it. You killed evolution in the womb. You killed Mary. You killed Christie. You killed her parents.

You did it.

You did it.

You did it.

Jerry’s eyes could only see the big light of the fluorescents. No shape, only light. He’d read about this before. He was partially blind, but his vision would come back, piece by piece. But did he really want to see? Was it worth it? Here at the end of the world, at its very edge, he had been chased by failure only to fail here as well.

***

“Daddy? Daddy would you please just listen to me?” But Kenny didn’t want to hear it. He was taking his kids as far away from Elton Township and Mason James as he could.

“Daddy, why are you putting everything back in the truck? We just got here!”

Kenny stopped, trying to think of something to make this shit make sense. But there was none. He took another step towards the truck and stopped again, his mouth open stupidly.

What have I done?

He’d left Houston with practically none of her clothes and she’d said nothing. He hadn’t thought anything of it, not a single thing. He’d never asked her, he’d just done it. And she’d said nothing. No crying, no pleading, no standard little girl stuff.

Am I taking care of her or is she taking care of me?

“Daddy, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

He held a bag full of his children’s clothes while staring off into space.

Completely vacant.

“Daddy, please? You’re scaring me!”

Now she was crying. He turned around and looked at the little girl standing in the best church outfit he could throw together on short notice. Jake stood in the cabin doorway glaring back at him.

“Jenny, I… you gotta just trust me. We really gotta get out of here.”

Jake stalked out and put his arms protectively around his sister. He snarled at his father. Pure hate. Kids his age shouldn’t be able to muster anything like that level of anger.

Jake spoke quietly to his sister. “It’s okay, Jenny, we’ll call Grampa as soon as we can. He’ll come get us.”

Kenny’s head spun. This was all happening too quick. Way too quick. One moment he was at the funeral, paying his respects to the Rev, the next minute Lucky was walking up the aisle dressed like Jesus, spouting Bible verses.

It should have been a comic sight. It should have landed him in the loony bin. But it didn’t.

Somehow that absurd costume had… worked.

He’d walked in and had taken over the church. It was hokey and implausible, but it had worked. A toga made out of bed sheets and Lucky was now Jesus in these people’s minds.

His daughter had asked if he was Jesus and if he could fix her.

Jenny wasn’t a stupid girl. No one was that stupid,
no one
.

But Lucky had a way with people, to put it mildly. More like, Lucky had an evil fucking ability to get people to do exactly what he fucking wanted. Kenny had forgotten all about this. Somehow his years away had practically erased his once best friend.

Was it possible that a wife, kids, a job, and a house could eclipse everything which had happened in those terrible final days before he’d left Elton?