Lucy Luck

Lucy Luck earned her name when she was a young girl just as her tall friend Shorty earned his, by being the opposite. If three kids went running Lucy was the one to fall into the hole. The name fit her to a tea through all her growing years. It isn’t that Lucy was so unlucky, it was that everyone around her was luckier. They had more, more of everything. Oh, Lucy wasn’t starving or desperate, it is just that somehow people in a circle around her prospered very well while she seemed to stand still. For example: when she took a two hour trip to get away from it all, two of her friends took trips to the Bahamas and another went to Europe, when Lucy got a job that paid well, her friends got jobs that would have supported her twice over. Yes, a luckless life flowed in a circle around Lucy as though she was the eye inside a hurricane; money and wealth twirled around her but never made a direct hit.

And not only her friends. When Lucy went to the shabby doctor’s office for her checkup once a year, the office got redecorated with a new wing added on. When Lucy shopped at the RB supermarket each week, the RB grew so wealthy it moved out of town. Lucy’s luck got worse and she needed to move into a more decrepit neighborhood, but soon her new neighbors began to prosper and Lucy could no longer afford the rent. One neighbor got a better job, another came into a lot of money and others got so wealthy or lucky with work they moved away. Lucy’s luck, or lack of it, was so prevalent that it didn’t go unnoticed. Before long many dingy, shabby, neighborhood stores began to send her advertisements and coupons as incentives to shop there. If the corner church had a problem with finances and became aware of Lucy they brought her in to their services and grew richer accordingly. And so it went.

Now Lucy might have been unlucky but she wasn’t stupid. She knew this happened around her but couldn’t explain how or why. She tried everything to draw more luck to herself but to no avail. She ran faster, she worked harder, she avoided harmful substances, but no matter what new attitude or method she tried, she continued to live a good, shabby, un-prosperous and unlucky life.

“This is not right,” she said.

Well one day, after visiting a psychic, a palm reader, and a Fortune teller with no results Lucy became so determined to find out what was causing her un-luck that she considered committing suicide. She wondered what would happen if she jumped off a bridge. Then realized that someone would come and save her then become a hero. That won’t do, she realized. But Lucy decided she just couldn’t take it any longer. Her life was becoming unbearable.

So, what if I just give up? Maybe I will just stop being. She thought about it for a few long, unlucky days and then decided to do just that. She stopped.

She quit acting, bolted her doors, turned off all the lights, lay down on the couch and decided to stay stopped. The last straw had broken her spirit and she decided she would stay stopped until her name changed from Lucy Luck to Lucky Lucy.

Far above Lucy in the heights of the stage, Mack yelled out to the director. “Hey, something’s gone wrong with the control lines. Got all twisted up or something. Can’t make them move Lucy an inch. The director saw that this seemed true, nothing was happening on the stage.

“Here let me give it a go.”

He pulled and yanked but couldn’t make Lucy move off her couch.

When the producer found out there was a problem he gave a deadline to get it fixed or else. Soon they would all be out of a job, but they couldn’t make Lucy act. Nothing moved Lucy.

The corporation CEO who directed the financial backing for the play was finally told there was a serious problem. Immediately, he realized how fast his million dollars in investment would fly out the window if the play didn’t get fixed. He hurried to the theater and fired the producer and director and screen writer. Then hired new people.

“The play must go on,” he told them.

But neither the new producer, director, nor stage hands could make Lucy move a limb or finger or even an eyelid. Lucy was on strike until death or a change of luck, whichever came first.

Each new day the financier lost millions. He was in despair then became even more frantic when the Emperor called to see when the new play would be ready for viewing. He had front row seats for himself and his guests. His anger flared up when he learned that there would be no play.

“Why not.”

“No one knows why, but Lucy won’t move.”

I am the emperor of the world and if I say the play must go on, it will. The Emperor was so determined that what he said should be true he invited a large group to come with him and they all went to the theater and sat in the accustomed seats to wait for the curtain to open.

“The play must begin now,” demanded the Emperor.

The curtain opened but the play did not begin or continue from where it had left off. Lucy was a stubborn puppet, she lay on the couch, hungry and thirsty but did not move. If you were very close you might have seen her lips whisper, “Something isn’t right.”

It would not do for the Emperor to sit with his guests and wait for a play that would not go on. He stomped up on to the stage, his guards trailing behind.

“I am Emperor of the world and this star actress will be removed henceforth. He directed his guards to remove Lucy from her ragged, thread-bare couch.

Just as the guards tried to pick Lucy up a loud voice filled the arena.

“Stop!”

The Emperor and guards, his guests and everyone else in the theater stopped and looked around for the source of the voice. All that is except Lucy.

“You may be the Emperor of the world, but you will not remove that unlucky lady from her perch.”

The emperor was very full of himself and dared to yell back. “Who says?”

“God!” was the answer.

Suddenly the Emperor, his guests and everyone in the theater fell down to the floor as if their strings had been loosened. Lucy did not fall because she was already as far down as she could get.

“Lucy,” God called.

“Yes Lord,” Lucy said with a trembling voice.

“You have not been treated well by the script writers. First you were written in as the unluckiest of all, then you were expected to follow every whim of the director and producer and even the Emperor. You knew something wasn’t right and it wasn’t. You revealed the truth, that they went too far. You are a good teacher. I hereby decree you to be free to write your own script.”

With those words all the people in the theater, even the Emperor stood back up, brushed themselves off, and went about the usual business of putting on plays or playing their part of the audience. Only Lucy walked out of the theater without any strings attached. Also, she no longer needed to worry about how lucky or unlucky she was.

You can guess what kind of script she wrote for herself, but you might be wrong because Lucy realized the truth as soon as she walked out of the theater. She had just been given the greatest gift of all-freedom.

The End