LUCKY

LUCKY

The night was young and he was just an old singer in a country music band. They had warmed up and he was replacing a string on his guitar when he looked across the bar. He couldn't believe his eyes!

It took him back to yesterday when they first met in a bar in Clancy. He was going to school to learn how to be a chef and found a gig with a local band which helped pay the rent. The bar was called "Get Lucky Saloon" and they used to laugh about meeting there. They got lucky, all right!

She told him her name was Maureen but friends just called her Mauri. They danced to a juke-box while the old black man swept up the floor of all the litter and wasted paper napkins with phone numbers on them. She smelled like fresh ivory soap and looked like she was scared to death of a musician.

But he was the one scared shitless! She had class and he wasn't used to much of that where he came from in Arizona. He bought her a beer but she never touched it; he lit his cigarette and offered her a smoke but she politely declined. And when they sat together at an all-night diner, she asked him to say grace with her before they ate their burgers and shakes.

And there were to be no good-night kisses for awhile; she held up her hand and he dutifully kissed the warm top of it. She'd smile and rush inside like a schoolgirl; which she was. Just 18 and inside her first bar; he felt like the luckiest guy in town.

Years later, she'd tell him how she used to lay awake for hours after seeing him, wondering what his mouth would feel like on hers; his tongue in her mouth; his hands around her waist. He was doing the exact same thing in his own rented room.

Now, the sight of her on a tall barstool, took his breath away. He stood behind a wall so she couldn't see him; he wanted to be sure it was Mauri.

Then he saw it; she still wore his watch! It was one-of-a-kind given to him by his mother many years before he even left home. Mauri had loved it and he wanted her to have something of himself. That was before he hurt her; before he broke her heart into; before he turned her into what he was looking at tonight; a scarlett woman.

His mind flashed back to 1982 when she had to study for her final exams. They had been living together just a year and she was in school to be a Legal Assistant. Life was good and he had secured a great job at a local four star restaurant and was playing guitar on the side, every chance he could. The money was good!

He was playing and singing one night, having a bit too much to drink during their break when he felt his hormones recharging while watching a girl shake her rear on the dance floor. Mauri would not be dropping in tonight as she was home studying. When the stranger wiggled her way onto his lap during their second break, he was flattered and embarressed at the same time. She was after one thing as her hand groped him on the floor. He held her tighter so folks wouldn't see his excitement. She just threw her blond head back and laughed; he loved her laugh!

His buddies told him later, how they'd tried to lie for him but Mauri was too smart to fall for it. When she dropped in after the dance had ended and found him missing from the poker game inside, she went looking for him. And she didn't have far to look.

The only cars left out back belonged to the band; his van was rocking when she came knocking. Only she didn't bother to knock, she walked right in and when she did, the van's interior lit up like a stick of dynomite! You could have heard a condom drop!

He was naked and so was the girl; he never did know her name. Mauri had a look in her eyes like a deer caught in a pair of bright headlights. The girl yelled "What the f...?" before he slammed his hand over her mouth. And just like that, Mauri was gone.

And she stayed gone. He tried his best to reach her at her friends, at her school, at her parents home. She disappeared with just her car and her purse; he had never heard from or of her again; not until tonight. He had moved far away but still had never gotton over the pain. He studied her tonight......

Twenty years older now, she probably would not recognize him anyway but just in case, he borrowed some dark shades and found an old cowboy hat. The band had to go on; it was well after 10 o'clock and the drunken crowd was ready to boogey. He could hardly play and he damned well wasn't going to sing.

Ironically, the band played "Together Again" and he felt the tears start to come; no, he musn't let himself. She was still so strikingly beautiful! But she had changed; not shy at all anymore, she asked men to dance before they even had a chance to invite her. She danced provocatively and enticingly, her body not afraid to strut its stuff. Her pink velvet jeans were much too tight; her satin V-necked top was too low- cut and her purple hued hair was too young for her to carry off.

It was a very long night but he got through it; he kept his distance from her side of the bar and yet his eyes never left her face. He saw a lonely, chilling, vacant stare in her eyes as she held her cigarette out to be lit. The many mixed drinks she drank were all paid for by guys hoping to take her home; or take her anywhere.

Then she made her move. Walking straight to the lead singer, she whispered something in his ear and he laughed. Introducing herself as "Lucky", she asked him to slow dance with her now that the band had finished for the night. Before he could intervene, the singer and her were on the dance floor but it was more like he was holding her up. Her slim, tanned arms were wrapped around his thick neck; they kissed. She wasn't shy anymore as her leg wrapped around one of his and his hands slid down her velvet backside.

He watched as they left together; her fur coat swallowing her body and her high heeled boots clicking on the bare wooden floor. He went to the bar and ordered a hot coffee; he'd quit drinking years ago when he was told it was either that or death. Alcoholism was destroying him but living without her respect and love was what was really killing him.

The singer was inside before an hour had passed and they stood together in the men's room at the urinal's. "Man; I was just about raped in the parking lot!" he laughed. "Some chick named Lucky who said she screwed musicians as that's all we are any good for. Bitch! Makes no sense at all; but it was fine by me! Mighty fine!!"

After he got in his cold car and was waiting for the motor to warm up, he cried. He cried for her and for him and for the stupid, sordid mistake that had cost him so much; almost his life. Nowadays, he spent almost all of his spare time in dusty ol' bar and dance halls, playing his guitar for nickles and dimes.

He needed to sleep or else he'd be going inside again to get a drink. But wait, there's something under the windshield wiper. A note:

"I guess we both had fun tonight; you got to see an old flame and I got "lucky"......thanks to you, I had a good teacher........was she worth it?"

The radio played Merle Haggard and Conway Twitty as he drove home to his empty room. Alone in his bed, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He saw his ol' friend in the corner and got out of bed to strum on it. A guitar can't talk back or hurt him; it was just an old guitar but theirs was a mutual love affair, blessed with respect and admiration. He strummed it and sang aloud "hello darlin'......"