I wasn’t born “Lucky”. It was just my nickname, for as long as I can remember. Since I was really small, my dad used to push me, smack me and say, “do you feel lucky? Hmmm? “ Nothing I did was ever good enough. He could blow a gasket at the drop of a fucking hat. I had to learn to avoid him, take the beatings, become stoic. When I was in school, I was always bullied by the big guys. They’d push me around, knock off my glasses, slap and jab me and laugh. Mostly, I remember the laughing. I finally graduated from high school and I bought a bus ticket and moved to the city.
The city ran autonomously, with no regard to the individuals actually making it work. It was a weird change from a small town, but I remember being excited about my new chance.
I got a job in the mail room of a large ad agency. I found an apartment in a run-down, but mostly safe neighborhood. Life was great, for about two weeks. Then, the asshole came back from vacation. I remember pushing the mail cart one day and a foot protruded from a cubicle. The bottom of the cart stopped short, but the top kept going forward. I fell over it and the mail spilled and unsorted itself. I looked up. A big, loud guy stood over me. For a minute, I thought he was going to unzip and pee on me just to extend the humiliation. But, causing a scene and complaining about me upsetting the cart was enough for him. That day.
For some reason, he seemed to make it a cause of his to be in a different place every day as I came through with the cart. Sometimes, he’d try to upset it. Some days, he’d just jump and say, “Bah!” Warped humor, I guess. He’d been on vacation when I’d started. Funny thing is, when I’d veer out of his way, he’d shrug and say “lucky.” Shortly thereafter, it was again my nickname, a thousand miles away from my asshole father.
At night, I’d go home to my old apartment. It was small and expensive. That how it is in the city. I always had old Chinese food boxes in the refrigerator, and frozen corn dogs in the freezer. Some nights, I ate Bean with Bacon soup straight out of the can. I set mouse traps pretty often, but at least, no rats. I told my landlord if he ever turned these into condos, I’d like to buy my space. I hated moving. My dad rented house after house, moved from town to town. I saw so many schools I can’t even remember. I really never wanted to move again.
So, I’d been on my own for nearly three years. I woke up this morning, my special day. My twenty-first birthday. This was the day that would change my life forever, because I said so. That’s how it was going to be! I smiled to myself as I got ready for work. I stopped off at the donut shop and bought two dozen doughnuts for work. When I got back to my car, it had a parking ticket. I froze as I stared at it. No. No. No. This would not bring me down. It was just a parking ticket. I hopped into my car and put the doughnuts in the passenger seat.
When I arrived at work, I brought the boxes in with a cheerful, bouncy step. Suddenly, a force from below my arms slammed the boxes several feet over my head. They were just fold-overs, and they unfolded in mid air. Doughnuts scattered as everything came down around me. I turned and saw the asshole. He was laughing his head off. “What an idiot! God, you’re such an idiot!” People from other cubicles stood up and looked as I got down and picked up the pieces of scattered doughnuts. When it was all clean, I put the boxes in the trash and swept up the crumbs.
I punched into the time clock seven minutes late. My boss was standing at the time clock, arms crossed. He said he’d gotten a call from “the offices.” Heard I’d created a ruckus at the entrance and made a mess. Why wasn’t I using the backdoor? Mailroom employees should use the main entrance. We should remember our place, be seen and not heard. I nodded and said nothing. He also said since I wasn’t on time, he was going to dock my pay a full half-hour. If I didn’t like it, I could leave.
I considered it. Everything flashed before me and I cocked my head, puzzled. I tuned back into his screaming, “Can you fucking HEAR me, Lucky?” Are you deaf or just stupid?” I took my card, clocked back out and walked out the back entrance. He was saying something, but I wasn’t paying attention. I walked around the building to move my car from the front spot. I’d left it there just to carry the doughnuts to the front desk. I watched as the tow truck turned right at the far end of the block, with my car in tow. No. This was my day. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I steeled myself against the world.
No. It was only nine-thirty in the morning. I was going to turn this around. I walked up the street and stood at the bus stop, remembering the transit system I’d used the first year here. I got on the bus and took a seat towards the back. My eyes kept closing and block after blocked looked less familiar. Someone’s booming voice woke me up and I looked up to see a policeman. I was confused. The cop said I’d ridden on the bus for over an hour and a half. The bus driver thought I might be dead or a transient. I said I was not a bum, I’d just fallen asleep.
“If you’re not a bum, why aren’t you at work? Let us confirm where you work, and we’ll let you go.” I couldn’t believe it. I shrugged and left the bus compliantly, watched it drive away. I looked around. It took me awhile to realize I was nowhere near where I could pick up my car or go home. I tried to catch another bus going the other direction to back track.
That’s when I realized I no longer had a wallet. I felt every pocket over and over, as if it would suddenly reappear. But, this wasn’t going to get me down. Because, I’m Lucky.
I started walking and went about fifteen blocks before I decided to check the time. No watch. Great. This wasn’t the part of town that had bank clocks, either. I kept walking and turning and making my way back to the area that towed cars were taken. Then, I realized, without a wallet, I couldn’t pay the fine, prove my identity or pick up my car. I turned one more time and headed for home. I was starving, but with no money, I just kept walking. City block after city block, I realized I had miles to go, no one to call for help. I didn’t make it back to my apartment until seven-thirty at night. I could barely walk. I’d just kept going at a steady pace and stopped thinking about four hours before.
I walked up to the entrance of my building and realized I had no keys. Nice time to notice. I pressed every damn buzzer to the building over and over. The door opened. I made it up five flights of stairs and was ready to kick down my fucking door. But, as it turned out, there was no need. The door was slightly cracked and I stood still and pushed it slowly open wide. My stereo and tv were noticeably gone. My CDs. I walked into the apartment the rest of the way. My wallet and keys were lying on the coffee table, on top of a note that said “thanks for the good stuff, bus boy.” I sat down numbly. The wallet was empty. No I.D. No money.
It could have been worse. It could have been much worse. I stared ahead into my nasty kitchenette. I notice two mouse traps needed emptying. Great. I was so tired, but somehow didn’t think I could sleep. I went and opened the refrigerator and the Chinese was too old too be edible. The corn dog box in the freezer was empty. I heard a small beep. Walking back into the living room, I saw my answering machine sitting on the floor beside the phone. The red light was blinking. It beeped again. I walked over and pressed play.
“Yeah, Lucky, this is Mr. Greeley. I decided to take you up on your offer and turn this building into condos. Good call. I sold it to this developer who’s going to take over for me next month. He wants to raze the building and start over. You’ve got thirty days before the building’s torn down. Good luck to ya. Thanks for the heads up.” Beep.
Fucking Beep. He sold out from under me. My idea just cost me my apartment. I went to the bathroom cabinet, smiling to myself. Opened up the box of feminine napkins I’d bought two years ago. Under the individual pink pouches, I took out a sock and opened up the top. I pulled out the money and counted. Two hundred and eighty dollars. I put it in my wallet and smiled. No thief would open a tampon or pad box like that to look for money. Going to my dresser, I opened my top drawer and strapped on my old watch. I found a lighter and fixed a few things in my apartment before I left for the night.
Hailing a taxi, I asked it to take me to Stanton Harbor. I got out and walked to the restaurant that overlooked the harbor. It was a glorious dinner. I thought of my car locked up behind the chain link fences, guarded by dogs from the pits of hell. I smiled. My waiter left and I went to the bathroom and showed myself out. They should mind giving one free meal. As I walked along the wharf, I doled out what was left of my two-eighty to bums covered in rags and boxes. The bridge loomed up ahead of me, so brightly lit in the night, even with a slight fog rolling around the waters.
I’ve always loved this bridge specifically. The architecture. Its placement in the city. The way it lights up the night. I walk out to the middle and lean on the railing, breathing in the crisp air. For the first time, I notice the temperature has really dropped since this afternoon. It feels like winter again. It’s had to drop at least twenty degrees. From fifty-something to thirty-something, just like that. I pondered that as I realized the tips of my fingers were a little numb and my forehead was unable to wrinkle in thought. I thought fondly of the flames that must have slowly engulfed my run-down apartment building by now. So much easier for the new buyer….
I looked over to my right and saw a cop parked on the bridge, his lights flashing. He was walking towards me. That was odd. He had his right hand on his gun, ready and his walk was slow. He was saying some dumbass thing. No idea what. For shits and grins, I looked the other way. Whatta ya know? One coming from the left, too. Hand at gun, ready.
Did I look dangerous? I was casually leaning back on the rail of the bridge looking out into the night. Life was strange, but at least it all made sense now. I had figured out everything on my twenty-first birthday. I must say, not a moment too soon. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw them closing in. With arms outstretched and face gazing up at the stars I smiled with relief as I stepped out into thin air. And mostly, all I can say is, I felt lucky….
