Lucky's Girl (10 page)

Lucky had always been there for him, and so had his parents, The Rev and Abby. Always there to pick up Kenny, would never let him go hungry, or ever let him go without. They loved him, for them it wasn’t charity. But for the person who survives on that kind of love it can’t help but feel like charity sometimes.

And what Mason was proposing was more of that kind of love, or charity, depending on how you looked at it. It was true that Mason really didn’t have any money either, but Mason was Lucky, and Lucky could charm his way into any woman’s bed, and keep them on couches and out of the rain all across America. And he wanted Kenny to tag along.

Mason could tell where Kenny’s head was. “Man, don’t worry about it. Between me and you we’ll be under every skirt from here to Kalamazoo. And that’s just a start. You’re my ace, buddy. We’re going to LA and we’re gonna fuck the living shit out of every single slut in the whole damn motherfucker!”

Kenny grinned. “So lemme get this straight. From here on out, fuck is a noun, a verb, and an adjective?”

“It’s a bitch doing jumping jacks on the end of your dick, Tonto.”

“Sometimes even I’m amazed, Lucky. But I shouldn’t be. You lost your virginity in the fifth grade.”

“Mary was asking for it since kindergarten.”

“You sick bastard.”

Mason got one of those serious looks. “Kenny, I’m not joking. I’ve always been able to read the signs. Mom calls it the “gift of spiritual discernment.” She’s told me that I’m a prophet…”

“I don’t think Moses fucked every woman in Israel.”

“Moses fucked his own daughters.”

“Jesus!”

“I don’t think that Bible says who Jesus fucked. But if he didn’t? Total waste, man.”

“You’re going to hell if you keep that up, Lucky.”

“But first, me and my boy Kenny are going on a little roadtrip. And I want you to know. This is a huge deal. I know things — secrets. I know about the secret paths. And I’m going to show you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, man?”

Mason reached into the pack, pulled out two more Molsons and gave one to Kenny. He took a deep breath and held it, letting it out in one big blast.

“Kenny, I might be a prophet, but nobody’s as lucky as me;
nobody
. Not without a little help.”

“You’ve totally lost me.”

“
God
, Kenny.
My God
. He showed me how to Read the Signs. I was always able to read some things. Little things. But nothing that got me anywhere. But My God… he saw me, he judged me and he showed me what I have to do. And I do it. I don’t shirk my responsibilities. And because of that… I get what I want.”

“I’m glad to know that both humility and sanity are not issues for you.”

Lucky didn’t crack a smile the way he always did at Kenny’s wit.

“Kenny, I’m gonna teach you. Out on the road. I’m going to make you into a prophet too.”

“Well hallelujah, brother!”

Mason shrugged. “You’ll see.”

“And what’s Mary gonna do during this little prophetic pilgrimage?”

“She isn’t coming with us. Hell no. She’s really stupid, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s unfair. She’s a product of her environment.”

“So are you. So am I. Neither of us just sit there never saying a word, just waiting around for me to fuck her.”

“She’s just quiet.”

“Well, I’ll give her this much. At least she doesn’t try to be a big talker because that would just be annoying.”

“Man, that’s just… mean.”

“Kenny, seriously man. Just because we don’t speak the truth doesn’t make the truth any less obvious. The world is a tough place full of hard truths. You know that. I’m not talking about lashing out against the world, I’m talking about living life on its own terms. Nobody’s gonna give you anything. Sometimes you gotta take what you want, sometimes you gotta take what you need. Some people are born to lead, some to follow, and some people to just sit there. I’m a leader, Mary just sits there. That’s why she’s old news.”

“And what am I? Just some follower?”

“Nah. I think you’re a dreamer or something. Maybe you haven’t decided yet.”

“I dunno, I worry about her. You’re her world. I’m serious. Christie too. They’re both so into you that they let you keep fucking the other. You tell them about other chicks that you fuck and they stay with you anyways. That’s seriously warped man.”

“Well, Mary’s gonna need to broaden her horizons. I’m gonna go see the world and sow my wild oats. I’m gonna figure out where I wanna go to, then I’m gonna come back and say goodbye to my folks. I was not born to live in turd town.”

Kenny chuckled. “Turd town? Elton is beautiful. The U.P. is beautiful. I dunno, I just can’t… imagine living anywhere else. I guess I never really thought about it, even when we would camp out and talk about the big roadtrip we’d take when we graduated. It all just seemed so distant.”

“People actually don’t even think about leaving this place. It sickens me. Fuck this place.”

Kenny looked out over the water and listened again. It was
The Old Rugged Cross
. Another song he’d heard over and over and over like an eternally skipping record, the voices shimmering over the water and out into the trees beyond.

“What’s the Rev gonna say when he figures out you’re not gonna follow in his footsteps?”

Mason took a swig, a curious look crossing his face, like he’d never even stopped to consider the question.

“I don’t give a shit, Kenny. Fuck him.”

“Huh? What the fuck, man?!”

Mason shook his head and put up a hand to give the universal gesture that he’d got more to explain, there was definitely more to this that he needed to say.

“Believe me, Kenny, he’s my dad and I love him. I love my mom too. But my dad… he’s really a disappointment.”

“Dick. The fuck you say!”

“Seriously, man. I need to be honest with you, Kenny. You’re my one and only friend. That’s all I need. Some people think friends are some big blessing and fight for all they can get. I don’t need that. I got you. You’re the only one who doesn’t lie to me.”

“Uh, thanks… I think.”

Lucky continued. “I’m the guy I am because of my dad. My dad’s dad was a preacher too. Alabama. Mississippi. Louisiana, Texas and Arkansas!”

Then Mason howled out, “Wooo-hooo! Hallelujah!”

Kenny was staggered by how loud and forceful Mason’s voice was, how far it carried, how it rang out against the chorus of voices echoing over from his father’s church.

“In many ways I’m exactly like my dad. I have a way with people, just like him. I just have no desire to swim in their shit. I don’t want to hear their stupid phony lies. And really, I don’t care if they stop drinking because there’s a million other shits just like them. It’s like trying to stop a flood with a bucket.”

“Nobody can save the world?”

“Maybe we aren’t supposed to, Kenny. Maybe it’s supposed to be like that. My God’s told me a lot of things, and none of it has to do with flushing my life down the toilet to save a world which doesn’t need saving. Not when there’s so much to taste and see and smell and fuck.”

“You almost sound like you want the world to be fucked up.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m not in the business of saving the old girl, I’m here to fuck her.”

***

Kenny pulled the oars while Uncle Frank prepared the rods, lures, tackles and worms. He had a plastic Cool Whip container he’d been using for as long as Kenny could remember. He’d go out into the woods between the cabin and the lake to a spot of deep fallen leaves and start digging. Within a few minutes he’d have enough worms for a full day’s fishing. Frank’s hands worked with a lifetime of experience. He was an almost silent man, so when he actually spoke, Kenny listened.

“You and Mason had a few last night.”

This was a talk he knew would come one day. He and Mason had been chugging beer by the pier since the tenth grade. It was a couple times a week now. Long talks and lots of laughter over twelve of Schlitz or Hamm’s.

“Yeah, look I’m sorry about…”

“Don’t worry about that, I trust you.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“All kids sneak off to drink beer, it’s just part of growing up.”

Kenny frowned and glanced over his shoulder. The town was on one side and Grove Island on the other. “But drinking’s a big problem here.”

Uncle Frank didn’t look up, he just kept working. “That’s either a problem you have or a problem you don’t have. If you were gonna be that way you’d already be that way.”

Kenny nodded. “I think I understand what you mean.”

He looked up, fixing Kenny with real concern. Uncle Frank wasn’t a guy who would let his feelings show. They showed more through his body language. His shoulders, though broad, hung down, and he always seemed to be looking down.

“Kenny, Mason James is a bad person.”

Kenny was stunned. No one that he could remember had ever spoken a negative word about Lucky. Everybody loved Lucky. Yeah, no one knew Lucky the way he did, no one knew the whole picture about Lucky’s rampant womanizing, or the sorts of things that he told Kenny, but he couldn’t see anyone caring if they did. Lucky was a great guy…

Kenny shook his head. “Uncle Frank…”

Frank exhaled. “He’s your best friend.”

Kenny kept shaking his head to ward off the words. “Yeah, and…”

His uncle finished for him. “Everybody loves him.”

Kenny didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know where to start to think about this.

Frank threaded a line through a hook and tied it off. “After the war I didn’t want to see anymore, but just because you stop looking doesn’t make you blind…”

Never once in Kenny’s life had Uncle Frank talked about Vietnam. He knew his uncle was the way he was because
everyone
knew Frank was a shell-shocked Vet on disability. It had been an unspoken subject between them for so long that Kenny didn’t know if he actually wanted to talk about this with him.

Kenny’s voice fell almost to a whisper. “We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to, Uncle Frank.”

The older man paused for a good long time, trying to find the right words. “Kenny, you’ve got no real reason to believe me. I did the best I could but I’m not much to brag about. The Rev and Abby did every bit as much raising of you as I did and…”

Kenny shook his head and felt tears in his eyes. “Uncle Frank, c’mon man, you’re the best. I love you, but I can’t see what you’ve got against Lucky, Mason. He’s… great, I can’t see why anyone would…”

But then he trailed off and found himself looking into his uncle’s eyes.

Frank hardly ever looked anyone in the eyes, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “Anyone in their right mind would have to say that crazy old Frank McCord don’t know what he’s talkin’ about, and they’d be right. I’m not all right, I’m broken. But Kenny, I ain’t blind.”

There was a long pause. Kenny had stopped rowing and stared at his uncle preparing the fishing rods. Only Kenny knew certain things about Mason James, but loyalty kept him from asking more. On the other hand it almost seemed crazy or even ungrateful to entertain the idea that Lucky really wasn’t the guy the world saw. Kenny realized he had a blind spot when it came to his friend, but knowing he had a blind spot wasn’t enough. His mind grasped at a question he didn’t quite know how to ask.

“Uncle Frank… why do you think he’s bad?”

Frank cleared his throat, set down the fishing rod and unscrewed the cap from his old canteen. Then he spat a stream of Beechnut into the waters of the lake.

“Do you really think he’s a good guy, Kenny? I’ve been looking at your face for years now and I know when you’re confused.”

Kenny nodded. “I do. I think he’s a good person, but he gets away with a lot. Girls, women think he’s good looking. Charming. Guys want to be him.”

Frank held his gaze. “And?”

Kenny shrugged weakly. “It’s normal I guess. Anyone would do the things he does if they could get away with it.”

Frank took off his old trucker cap, feeling the thinning hair underneath.

“It’s real obvious, just from the way that he carries himself that he’s a hit with the ladies. Cocky, but he doesn’t let it show on Sundays. But Kenny, a man can get his way all his life and still be a good man. None of that is a problem.”

Kenny squinted and closed one eye, shaking his head. “So what are you talking about?”

Frank put the cap back on. “I know every square inch of this part of the U.P. I know what each and every sound means in the woods. Mason James has been taking long walks in the woods alone for most of his life. Lots of people do. They never see me. I hear them coming from a mile away, that’s why they never get the kind of game that I do.”

Kenny shrugged. His uncle was a consummate hunter, legendary for the kind and size of bucks he brought in. It wasn’t surprising he’d seen Mason out in the woods but the guy hadn’t seen him. What was odd was he’d never mentioned it.

“Yeah, Mason does that. Always has. His whole life it was always us playing sports, us hanging out, him hanging out with the girls or him going on his long nature walks.”

He paused, then asked, “What’s wrong with that, Uncle Frank?”

Frank nodded, conceding that at face value there’s nothing wrong with walking alone in the woods. He looked out across the water and then back to his nephew.

“Why does he shoot animals with a pellet gun and carry them off to Grove Island in a bag?”

Kenny’s jaw dropped. “What?”

CHAPTER 2