Bad Luck

Bad Luck

When asked to pinpoint exactly where the bad luck had begun Gerald always used his birth as a prime example. His parents were boring people with an affinity for boring names. Perhaps they were resentful that they themselves had been given names of the dull variety, and thus wanted to pass their pain down the line. Gerald’s bad luck continued through his school days, including an unfortunate incident in second grade when Gerald had been rushed to the hospital after lodging a pencil several inches up his nose after a freak accident involving some blocks and a few toy soldiers. Because of this obvious and overwhelming evidence Gerald had long ago decided that there was nothing he could do about his unlucky streak, and had grown quite resigned to unfortunate accidents continuing to affect him. So when the girl fell from the sky, Gerald was quite surprised that she had not landed directly on top of him. When he heard the thud and the subsequent screams of the pedestrians, Gerald was confused. He had been sitting outside cowering behind a newspaper that he wasn’t actually reading. The newspaper was just a facade, in place to show the world that Gerald was a normal person having his morning, and that no, he was not eating alone on a Saturday morning just as he had for the past several Saturdays preceding this one. Gerald was a self aware person, and the image he projected to the world was of paramount importance. Which is ironic because the world did not care about Gerald. This started, Gerald believed, in fifth grade when he was abandoned at the zoo by his school group, and was eventually found several hours later cowering in a corner of the tiger enclosure. How Gerald survived this situation is a mystery, and while some may point out that this is a sure sign of good luck, Gerald always responded by pointing out that only very unfortunate and unlucky people

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could end up trapped in the tiger enclosure in the first place. Gerald cautiously peeked over his newspaper to see what the commotion was about and was quite surprised to see a girl splayed on the ground, unmoving. Gerald cautiously got up from his chair and walked over to stand above the girl. He paused, uncomfortably aware of the now deserted street and the quite possibly dead girl lying on the ground in front of him. Gerald looked up, but he could not see anything that the girl could have fallen from, like a large open window or a balcony. Clearly, divine intervention was the answer here. Gerald came to a decision and nudged the body with his toe. “Hello?” he said, pausing uncomfortably. “Are you OK? Are you alive?” Now while Gerald may seem to be acting rather awkwardly given the severity of the situation in front of him, he will have to be forgiven. Gerald lacked the people skills usually developed during the school years, as he had not been on speaking terms with most of the other young people he knew. They had grown tired of hearing about Gerald’s unlucky streak and Gerald in turn had grown tired of people telling him to “Grow up” or “Join some extracurriculars” or “Maybe you shouldn’t have been climbing on the fence of the tiger enclosure.” Slowly the girl began to peel herself off the sidewalk, acting rather woozy. More of a woman really, Gerald now observed, somewhere close to his own age. Gerald was unexperienced when it came to looking at members of the female sex, but he adjudged her to be a fairly normal looking person, all things considered. “I’m just feeling a little dizzy,” said the woman, as she slowly rose to her feet, “I just need a minute.” As she said this the woman crumpled to the floor again. Gerald rushed over still quite confused as to what, exactly, was going on. Gerald squatted down over the body, still unsure of the

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proper conduct for this type of situation. While he was not a doctor, Gerald had taken a CPR class at the Y when he was in 11th grade. He quickly ran over the steps in his mind. First: Shake and Shout. This was always Gerald’s favorite step, and in the CPR class he took he had been reprimanded several times for shaking the dummy too vigorously. Gerald leaned in close, grabbing the woman by the shoulders and shaking her. There was no movement. “ARE YOU OKAY?” He shouted. The girl again gave no response. Gerald panicked, forgetting what step he was on. In the class he took, Gerald had been too busy wondering how much trouble he would get in if he cut the face off the dummy like Dwight from The Office to care about the order of steps. He knew he should have been paying attention during the class, it was just that he assumed if anyone was going to have a premature heart attack it was going to be him. Gerald decided checking the pulse couldn’t hurt, and so pawed around for the woman’s arm. This was the first time Gerald had ever touched a woman. Gerald knew that he could test for a pulse by grabbing the woman’s elbow and squeezing. He couldn’t feel anything, so Gerald immediately assumed the worst. He quickly grabbed for his phone, and dialed 9-1-1. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” “Hi, my name is Gerald, and I just wanted to say I really appreciate everything you do to help keep us all safe and,” Gerald paused, realizing he should get to the point, “Uh, well, a girl she fell - I mean she collapsed and I think she might have had a heart attack, and I was wondering if you could send an ambulance please?” Gerald decided at the last second maybe he shouldn’t tell the operator that the girl had seemingly fallen from heaven, or somewhere thereabouts. “Yes sir, right away, can you please give me your location?” Gerald looked around wildly, then said “Uh yeah, I’m across from the Starbucks on Main Street.”

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“Thank you sir,” the operator replied, “An ambulance is on the way.” The line clicked dead, leaving Gerald alone on the street with the woman once again. Suddenly, Gerald remembered what he had to do next. There was no pulse, so Gerald needed to do chest compressions and then mouth to mouth resuscitation. Or was it the other way around? Gerald could never remember. He decided to skip the mouth to mouth, as clearly this girl was in no position to give consent. Furthermore, Gerald had never actually kissed anyone before. He had been far too interested in reading articles like “Why Do I Have Bad Luck? 2 Simple Things to Change Your Destiny,” and “14 Things That Could Be Causing Your Bad Luck,” to be interested in members of the opposite gender. Gerald began chest compressions, trying to stay as calm as possible. Gerald hoped that his bad luck didn’t apply to saving peoples lives. Gerald heard approaching sirens, but continued with the chest compressions, vaguely remembering that it was important to keep compressing until help arrived. Gerald heard a screech of tires, and car doors banging open. He was shoved roughly to the side by a group of paramedics in their uniforms. They hoisted the woman onto a stretcher, and rushed her into the back of an ambulance. Gerald slowly backed up, once again feeling awkward and out of place. Just as he was about to leave, Gerald was accosted by two policemen who tackled him back to the ground, snapping handcuffs around his skinny wrists. Gerald, who was at this point completely bewildered, was roughly shoved into the back of a waiting police van and whisked away before he could even utter a word. The woman’s name was Mary. That was the first thing they told Gerald after they brought him into the room with stainless steel walls and a frighteningly bright light. Gerald had been handcuffed for the better part of two hours, and by this point had worked himself into a furor of righteous indignation.

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When the two men in drab suits entered the room, accompanied by one of the police officers, Gerald exploded. “Who are you people? Why am I here? How could you do this to me? Don’t you know who I am?” Gerald added that last question on a whim. They most certainly did not know who he was. Gerald was not special. But he liked the way he sounded, all tough and full of anger. The two men in drab suits gave each other a bored expression. One of them sighed. He had been through this before. “You didn’t even read me my rights,” Gerald exclaimed, “You have to read me my rights. That’s how it works. I watch Law and Order.” “Sir, we read you your rights,” the police officer interjected, “You just held your hands over your ears and started shouting really loudly. That’s your fault, not ours.” Dammit, thought Gerald, I thought for sure that was going to work. One of the men in the drab suit finally rose to his feet and leaned in towards Gerald. He smelled like unwashed socks. “Sir, we have some questions for you,” he stated, matter of factly, “Why were you assaulting the woman as she lay on the ground unconscious?” Gerald was flabbergasted. “I was trying to save her life!” He said, “She had a heart attack!” “No she didn’t,” replied the man, “She was just unconscious. Didn’t you check for a pulse?” “Of course I did,” Gerald replied, although slightly worried. Maybe you weren’t supposed to feel for a pulse at the elbow after all. The officer leaned forward. “All we saw was you groping an unconscious woman. Quite frankly we find it incredibly suspicious that you would just happen to be the only person in the vicinity of this woman who you claimed had a heart attack but clearly was just knocked out.”

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William Ricci

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Gerald leaned back in his chair. He really had the worst luck.

After another round of questioning, Gerald was rushed from the interrogation room. He was marched through the dank halls of the detention facility, and eventually deposited inside a dimly lit cell. The door slammed shut behind him with a depressing sort of finality. Gerald quickly took stock of his surroundings. A single light bulb flickered in the ceiling, casting ominous shadows all around the room. There were two beds, one on each side of the cell. Padding leaked out from both beds where there were holes in the mattress. The pillows looked half filled and mildewy. Gerald did not think they looked comfortable. A toilet was nestled in the far corner of the room, covered in mysterious brown stains. Gerald decided he would not be using the bathroom for the duration of his stay at the prison. Gerald cursed his luck, as he had been doing nearly nonstop since being shoved into the back of the police van. This is what you get, he though, angrily, This is what you get for being a good person. For trying to help someone. He sighed. There was nothing he could do anymore. Gerald’s fate was in the good hands of the judicial system. Gerald had always liked judges. His grandfather was a judge, and Gerald liked his grandfather more than anyone else in the world. His name was Gordon and, as Gerald occasionally bragged about to his classmates in the rare instances that they talked to each other, he had helped secure the right to vote for black people in the state of Mississippi. In Gerald’s mind, these actions made Gordon a hero. Gordon also liked to bring Gerald candy whenever he visited, and that couldn’t have hurt his reputation. Unfortunately, Gordon was killed when he accidentally discharged his weapon at a gun safety class. This is where Gerald assumed the bad luck came from. Gerald wandered over to one of the beds and sat down. 150 It felt a little lumpy, but it was actually far more comfortable

than Gerald would have initially assumed. Gerald continued to make himself comfortable, but he soon paused. Something wasn’t right. “If you don’t get off me right now,” a voice said, “I will cut off your dick and make you eat it.” Gerald leapt off the bed, emitting a shrill shriek. Gerald quickly attempted to change this shriek into more of a brave yell. Nailed it, he thought. A shape sat up in the bed. It was a man, a massive man. Easily twice Gerald’s size, this man wouldn’t have fit on both beds combined. Huh, Gerald thought, I wonder how I didn’t notice him. “Yo, I’m talking to you,” the shape barked, “Why the fuck did you sit on me?” “I’m so sorry,” Gerald answered meekly, “I didn’t see you there.” The man grunted and rolled over. Gerald breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t think that he could’ve taken this guy in a fight. “Is it true?” Gerald blurted out, not thinking before he spoke, “About the soap? And dropping it?” The man rolled over, incredulous. He stood up, dwarfing Gerald with his massive bulk. Gerald cowered on the floor. Why did I just say that? “Did you really just ask me that?” That man said, still shocked, “Are you trying to be funny? Or are you just stupid?” “Um, I...” Gerald tried to answer, but the words just weren’t coming out of his mouth, “Well, I... I just thought I should know. Just in case I have to shower. While I’m here.” Gerald curled in on himself, awaiting the punch that he was sure would be arriving momentarily. Gerald had never been punched before, and he did not think that, if punched by this particular specimen, he would live to be punched again. Imagine dying in your very first fight. 151 Several seconds passed in this manner, and finally Gerald

peeked out from between his fingers, worried about what he might see. To his astonishment, the large man was sitting on his bed, shaking in silent peals of laughter. Gerald got up, feeling rather embarrassed. There he was, cowering on the floor, fearing for his life, and this man was dying of laughter. The man finally got himself under control and was able to coral his hysterics for long enough to look at Gerald. He stuck out a meaty right hand, offering it to Gerald. Gerald took his hand and shook it, although he immediately regretted this decision when he felt the bones in his hand begin to crunch together. “My name is Rahiem,” the man said, “Good to meet you.” “Gerald,” said Gerald, still confused and a little scared, “A pleasure.” Rahiem cackled again. “Talk like that in prison and you won’t last long my guy.” “Oh, I’m not going to prison,” Gerald replied, with fake confidence, “this is all just a big misunderstanding. A mistake.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” said Rahiem, his voice growing quieter, “But it wasn’t. It never is.” “What happened?” Gerald immediately regretted the question. Rahiem seemed nice enough but he looked like he could crush Gerald’s skull with his bare hands. Gerald wondered what that would look like. “I tried to rob a gas station,” said Rahiem, after a long pause, “I needed money. My daughter was sick. I couldn’t pay for her medicine.” Rahiem sighed. Clearly these memories were painful for him. “There was an accident during the robbery. The manager didn’t want to give me the money. I shot him, man. I shot him in the chest. I went into shock. When the police pulled me over 152 later I didn’t even fight. I told them it was me. I don’t know

what I was doing.” Gerald couldn’t think of anything to say. What could you say to something like that? How could Gerald’s own experiences compare to what Rahiem had gone through. “They took her away,” Rahiem continued, his voice weak, “They took away my daughter. I haven’t seen her in weeks. I’m scared, man.” “I’m sorry,” Gerald said awkwardly, “I’m sorry.” “Thanks,” Rahiem said, after a minute, “Thanks.” They passed the rest of the night in silence. Gerald would sometimes think of a remark to make or an idea that could be said, but he kept it to himself. Rahiem looked like he did not wish to be disturbed. Gerald rolled over on his cot. The cell was cold, and Gerald had been provided with only a single, threadbare blanket. Eventually, despite the freezing temperatures and Gerald’s overcrowded mind, sleep claimed him. The cell door opened with a loud clang, and harsh light spilled into the room. Gerald sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Two men stood in the door, both wearing official looking prison uniforms. They looked angry. Gerald figured that if you decided you wanted to work as a prison guard, you were probably just the angry sort of person. “You,” one of them barked at Gerald, “Get up.” Gerald clambered to his feet then promptly collapsed back to the floor, his legs feeling like jelly. The guards sighed, before moving inside the cell and hoisting Gerald to his feet. They quickly guided him out into the hallway, and shut the door. Just before the door smashed back to its closed position, Gerald looked back over his shoulder. Rahiem was staring back at him, eyes empty. It looked like he might have been crying. Gerald looked away, and the door shut. The guards brought Gerald into the same interrogation room that he had been in the day before. They sat him down, and the same men in drab suits walked into the room. One of them was smoking a cigar. Gerald shrank back in his chair, scared. 153

The man with the cigar spoke first. “You’re lucky,” he said, “You’re very lucky.” “Lucky?” Gerald replied, incredulous, “Lucky? I’m in jail! I’m the least lucky person there is! I may be the unluckiest person on the face of the planet.” “Shut up,” said the man, “That’s stupid. People have it worse than you.” Gerald was about to reply, but suddenly a picture filled his mind. Rahiem, in the cell. The door closing. The tears on his face. Gerald grew silent. “Lucky for you,” said the other man, “The woman you assaulted vanished. We can’t find her, and if she’s not here there is no one to press charges.” Gerald looked up, hopeful. Did this mean what he thought it meant? “You’re free to go, sir,” said that man with the cigar, trying his best to sound happy but really just looking nauseous. Gerald rose from his chair, and was escorted into a waiting room where he completed several long forms. Gerald could barely see what he was writing, had to read each direction on the sheet several times before it registered in his brain. After completing the sheets and exchanging a few words with a lady at the door, Gerald was unceremoniously expelled from the police station. Gerald squinted in the bright sunlight. He stumbled down the street, legs sore and tired. People flowed past him on either side, but Gerald was barely aware of them. Gerald’s eyes felt extremely heavy. He needed a coffee. Gerald slowly made his way to the cafe where his series of misadventures had begun. What should have been a 15 minute walk took nearly an hour. He eventually made it inside, where he was immediately escorted back out onto the street and instructed to pick one of the tables outside. They probably didn’t want him scaring away the customers. Gerald slid out a seat and collapsed into it. It was a beau154 tiful day, and the soft light caressed the green trees and leaves

that lined either side of the street. A family walked past, playfully arguing about something unimportant. Gerald smiled. A waiter walked up and Gerald ordered a small coffee. The waiter made a mark on his pad, then offered Gerald a newspaper. Gerald was about to accept, but something made him pause. What was going on? Why didn’t he want a newspaper? He always wanted a newspaper. “Um, sir,” the waiter said, confused, “Did you hear me? Would you like a newspaper?” “Oh, sorry,” said Gerald, snapping back to the present, “I’m OK, thank you.” The waiter bustled away. Gerald looked back out over the street, filled with the people making their way to work. Suddenly, in a blur of motion, Gerald leapt from his seat, and dashed through several lanes of traffic, nearly causing several accidents. A cacophony of horns broke out but Gerald paid them no mind. After reaching the opposite side of the street Gerald paused, searching. Where had she gone? “Are you looking for me?” Gerald turned. In front of him stood Mary, seemingly none the worse for wear after her tumble. Gerald paused. He was unsure of what to do now that she was standing right in front of him. In fact, Gerald hadn’t really thought much of anything when he first saw her in the street. It felt more like instinct than anything else. “Did you want to say something?” She asked, smiling. “Uh, yeah,” Gerald answered, stumbling over his words awkwardly, “Would you like to, uh, I mean if you’re available and don’t, like, have anything right now...” Gerald paused, unsure. “Would you like to come get a coffee with me?” He finally said, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t laugh in his face. “I would love to,” she answered, smiling, “I would love to.”

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