The Lucky Boy

By Caroline Gerardo

Seth is a young boy who does not fit in anywhere. He is severely punished for the smallest of errors by his father a neurosurgeon. Seth’s mother is a socialite who drowns her problems in pills and alcohol. The father decides he cannot deal with Seth anymore and sends him to live with his paternal Grandmother. Seth’s Grandmother is more patient than his parents were. Seth becomes friends with a family down the street and falls in love with their daughter Amy. When grandmother dies of a stroke he is sent back to his emotionally distant family.
In high school, Seth discovers he has talents in swimming and selling drugs to his friends. Seth decides he needs $10000.00 to find Amy who has moved to California. Building a twisted friendship with Jon, they make money organizing street fights between homeless men and taking bets. The two become friends and through their illegal activities, Seth saves up the money to leave on his journey to find Amy.
The disturbing results of his quest will haunt the reader. A hypnotic tale of disillusionment and madness.
Even the worst of men deserve a chance at redemption.
The writing style is 21st Century in beats. The scenes feel voyeuristic. A tour de force of a novel like no other coming of age story. Dark Fiction, Thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caroline Gerardo
• Release date: Nov 9, 2011
• ISBN: 9780984815708

Caroline Gerardo

Caroline Gerardo is an author and poet. MFA Claremont Graduate University BA Scripps College Caroline's home town is Laguna Niguel, California in the winter and Wyoming in the summer. "A unique voice, and writing style." Novels, poetry, short stories published in many magazines The Lucky Boy is released on all ereaders and paperback 1/2/2012 A dark coming of age novel, like no other. The Lucky Boy has been reviewed as "A new MMA style of writing." An adventure story. Author of "Cardinal Sins" a series of seven short stories "Greed" and "Vanity" and "Lust" Toxic Assets a novel about a woman in the middle of the cause of the mortgage meltdown in print and all ereaders. Toxic Assets is a thriller about the crash. Katherine is the female protagonist pitted against bankers who aren't stodgy. Current work in progress: Eco Terrorist set in the future during The Great Drought Daily journal with haiku and orginal photographs: http://instagram.com/carolinegerardo/

Book preview

February 28th, 1965

Radnor is a suburban town on the Main Line; there, a secret happened in the McGrath home. The house is near dark granite outcroppings in a row of towns once fed by coalmines. Soon afterwards, the McGraths sent their nine-year-old son, Seth, away to Grandmother’s house in Philadelphia. They refer to it as his going away to college with a flippant laugh. Seth can’t recall why they sent him away. The front of the clan’s Bible fails to explain the enigma.

In the middle of the maple bookshelves upstairs, porcelain monks stand guard. On top of dark wood planks, four figurine mugs – two fat adult monks and two young robed figures – witness the routine of the McGrath family. With brown hollow stomachs, the friars can hold a small hot chocolate, but they are empty. The cups are never used. The ceramic padres are the only playful symbol in the household, but they look solitary and disconnected.

On Seth’s ninth birthday, after the lecture about the bus passes with his parents (Dr. William and Maiya McGrath) he picks up a figurine and hides it in his room. The child grinds his teeth.

Why does no one help me? the child asks the inanimate ceramic faces.

Seth’s eyes are strange; one lid hangs down over the center iris. When the boy throws a baseball at his closed door, the reverberation causes one of the monk mugs to fall and break.

Come down here, young man. A bellow from the library threatens the boy.

In a minute.

His parents speak about him in the third person. You better get up there and straighten out that thing child before he breaks more objects, William.

He has none of my genetic makeup; he’s a runt, and the spacing of his facial features is nothing like any McGrath.

Are you saying I cheated with someone?

No, I’ll go up there and stop him, William rages on the stairs. Open this door right now. You’re going to get it for that outbreak, kid.

Dr. William McGrath removes his belt and snaps the buckle against the wall. Take the shirt off, hold your ankles; you need to learn to control yourself, Seth.

Seth will wear a thick, black T-shirt to school to hide the blood and back sores. Crucifixion in the classroom is worse than the beatings at home. The wounds bleed from the whipping he suffered earlier in the morning. That day the doctor uses his fist. He undercuts the child, sending him into the sharp corner of the bookcase where the priest mugs watch. Sweat drenches the blonde curls on the front of Seth’s forehead.

Your boy is willful. Seth needs a new bus pass every twenty days. Are you listening, Maiya, dear? William says to his wife.

The maid orders ten bus passes at the end of summer to be certain to make it to Christmas. Don’t ask me why he can’t get it straight; he’s your son, Maiya says.

That’s ridiculous. He loses everything. I believe he does this on purpose to irritate. The doctor bites a crumb of food between his front teeth, making his upper lip point.

Where’s the beast now? Seth’s mother says.

*

The parents and children eat dinner separately. Later, Dr. William McGrath calls the boy into the study. Standing with a toe curled under, Seth hunches his shoulders forward, making himself invisible at the front of the desk. It’s as if the polished top could open and swallow a little bug. Behind the large-shouldered father are rows of books in alphabetical order. The doctor moves the lamp to cast emerald backlighting of his wife’s figure upon the wall. Maiya gazes at her lean shadow.

The dollar cost isn’t important. The convenience is vital. Your mother cannot get up to drive you to school. I’m an important neurosurgeon.

The child’s face is empty.

Are you listening to me boy?

Why not? His voice is high as he speaks towards his mother, and she looks away.

The doctor says, now louder, I don’t care that the ten bus passes cost an extra fifty dollars. I will not be interrupted by your school calling, you telling my secretary you have forgotten a binder or homework. I will not have it. Get control of your emotions and be a man. The doctor’s eyebrows fold into one.

The child doesn’t answer. His head is in another place, looking at the patterns of the wood grain of the desk. Seth thinks of the lumber he needs to collect and steal to build his own fort: a place where he can hide, maybe make friends. The wife bows her chin and puts her lit cigarette on the edge of a book.

Do you hear me? You must be responsible for your actions. Don’t melt into one of your fits. The doctor holds his gaze with his left eye squinting. He’s not wearing his wire glasses.

Leaning across the desk, the doctor slams his palm towards the undersized cheek. You are not listening. Do you hear me? The blow whacks Seth’s face with a flash of the child’s saliva.

Yes, sir, the child says. With his dirty fingers, Seth cups his one hand to guard in case the man tries another point of impact. With the crux of his elbow, he wipes off the spit that sprang out from the punishment. He doesn’t put his elbow up to protect himself, which would enrage the doctor and repeat the thrashing. The boy imagines putting his mind’s candle in his own fist. His fingernails cut into his little palm. The stinging keeps him calm. This pain from the nails cutting his skin is better than the inevitable fly swatter beating.

Dr. William McGrath is unaware that the child has placed the coat-hanger-armed fly swatter into the bottom of the trash bins curbside. Seth knows his father might just as easily use his own belt, but the man is partial to lashing with the raw wires of the flexible iron whip. The last time Seth refused to hold his ankles, the doctor employed the punched end of a belt strap wrapped around his hand and the buckle met the child’s buttocks.

Make that child do all the yard work. He’s old enough to run the mower and repair it as I had to when I was a child. He needs more responsibility.

Maiya doesn’t correct her husband as William did not grow up in a house on a half-acre. William lived on a postage stamp sized lot.

*

Seth, you cause this trouble. See what you did. Now I’ll have to sew up your eyebrow.

The child purses his lips. Seth’s chin is long and square with thin edges. The gash on his eyebrow leaks down his cheek. Seth winces when he feels the pulling together of the skin. The needle pokes through the jagged edge of flesh and the thread bounces in the perforation to join the valley of red together.

Hold still. If you move I might miss.

Yes, sir. Seth is a small child for his age; he stands straight with his sandy-colored hair.

You might need eyes someday, Dr. William McGrath says. Your great-grandfather died a young man, a hard-working coal miner. The doctor clears his throat. No one in our family has ever acted like you. Well, except for your mother’s brother, your shifty uncle in jail – that’s where you get this bad blood from.

The doctor’s hands are steady. He mends the child’s gash as if it were a watermelon. The doctor breathes heavily with the air expelling from his parted lips. It’s a smelly wind instrument on Seth’s face. Understanding his vulnerability, the child remains still. Seth is soldier-like. The garlic air blows in and out as the needle yanks the flap together.

CHAPTER TWO

March 1st, 1965  

McGrath home: the year 1965 limps along in pain.

The braided rug on the family room floor still has slight rusty bloodstains from the last time Seth’s mother got out a chopping knife. She lashes at her husband over some jealous imagination on a schedule.

Seth’s mother says, I saw you write down the number of that nurse; You’re cheating on me, your loyal wife.

I don’t know what you might be talking about.

I know why you’re late–

That’s not true. William puts his head down.

In addition to Lorena’s time as nanny most of the week, they have a housekeeping crew. White carpet in their home is spotless. The house is as clean as a laboratory. Mrs. Doctor picks about having surfaces sterile. She commands the staff to bleach everything to maintain a vanilla crust. After the smell of chlorine bothers her, the cleaning people rinse water on everything.

Maiya is a danger to herself when she combines wine with Desoxyn. Methamphetamine hydrochloride is a nasty drug, nicely presented with the pharmaceutical label of Desoxyn. She uses it to keep her weight down. The problem begins when she needs alcohol at night to calm the tremors and the dry mouth. The doctor doesn’t want to see any of it. She takes pills for her anxiety, some for depression, and a mix of others to keep her weight lower.

William says to his mother on the telephone, I’m writing her scripts to keep her on the quiet track.

~Have you considered counseling, William?

~She’s good if she doesn’t drink vodka with the prescriptions, but she sneaks, Mother, then I stay away until she crashes.

~How do the children deal with it?

~The nanny is here six days a week; she lives downstairs.

~A Spanish maid is raising your two children? William’s mother asks.

~Angela is fine. The cleaning lady drives her to dance, piano, and tutoring lessons; this keeps the child out of the house, William says, not offering any information about Seth.

William hides from Maiya in the study on the nights she rattles around the house at all hours; she sleeps most of the day. She wears a caramel-colored negligee that lands on the waist of her lean body. For some reason her breasts remain full from childbirth. The balance of large globes on a graceful torso is uncanny. Maiya knows how to use her body to keep him in line. She speaks with a southern accent in a lyrical tone.

*

The doctor just will not tolerate a last minute warning about driving the kid to school on one of the days he needs to take the train into Philly for surgery.

Seth, control your actions or a beating’s in store, William threatens, pointing at his son on the stairs. I can’t understand how two children God created are so different, he says on a night the couple is on decent terms.

Seth takes the stairs as quickly as his legs can fly and closes his bedroom door without a sound. He leans his ear on the wall to listen to the words.

I’m ashamed; he’s a weird little guy, not the football star you were, honey, the wife praises her husband in response.

How our younger daughter is disciplined and diligent, while your son is prone to uncontrollable moods, I never will accept, William says.

You’re right. I don’t trust Seth. Maybe we could send him to boarding school? Maiya curls her hair around her fingers.

God knows Lorena, the worthless nanny, can’t be counted upon to drive the boy last minute, William says.

Don’t put Lorena down, darling, when she’s in the house. I need her. Maiya speaks with an overly saccharine tone that sticks like peppermint taffy. As she spirals a piece of her long hair around her fingers, Maiya looks for split ends. The thick ends turn outward.

Would you be a doll, make me some chamomile tea? Her lips move as if to sip in a sensual motion. The only wrinkles she exposes are on her upper lip.

Did you have bad dreams last night?

Terrible. The mother is cruel, beautiful. Maiya fans herself with a pillow.

I’ll go tell him it’s lights off, then I’ll bring your tea, William McGrath says.

She doesn’t answer. The doctor exits the family room and starts up the stairs.

Seth softly moves away from listening at the door and places himself at his desk. Carefully he winds surgical tape around the wooden stem of a linden branch to make another slingshot.

Time for bed, Seth. The father comes in without knocking to see his son tinkering at the desk.

Seth dares to challenge the doctor by arguing; he will regret saying, I want to watch this TV show, please. I’ll go to bed soon.

I said now. Do what you’re told, when you are told, William McGrath chants.

Seth doesn’t say but– or argue; he remains still, hoping to avoid being hit again.

The doctor takes his fist and punches the boy. The curled hand hits Seth’s right ear. This sends the child’s body to the floor.

Get up and get to bed now. Not one word, young man. When I say do something, you jump.

Yes, sir.

Are you ready to sing the Obey Your Mom and Dad song?

Yes, sir, O-B-E-Y…

CHAPTER THREE

March 14th, 1965

Can a certain insect plague heaven? Maiya sits in a lawn chair, stargazing with a shawl blanket wrapped around her. A moth circles behind. Seth forgets the structure of Mother’s lovely face.

Spring came late in 1965; nine years have passed after Seth’s first birthday. It’s three weeks after the fire in the rear of the McGrath’s home. Whispering behind closed doors happens at night.

Little things about Maiya exhibit deterioration. She hides white wine in coffee mugs in bathroom cupboards and has Seth dump vodka bottles in the neighbor’s trash on pickup night.

God, I’ve put on two pounds; this is terrible. She starts a diet of lean protein. The second day, she leaves the stove on with some boiled eggs. The water evaporates, and the pot chars to foul smelling ruin.

Look the hummingbird egg is broken, Maiya cries, pointing to the boiled eggs now in a black pot.

The shells cracked from the intense heat. She extends herself on the kitchen floor, her skirt hiked up. When she smells the pungent, scorched carbon, she reduces herself to crying nonsense.

Seth, you must watch your mother carefully today. I’m going into town for work and the staff and the maids have the day off.

Okay.

Don’t let her take any more pills for the next couple hours.

I’ll try, Dad.

Be responsible and do it. Stay with her on the sofa. I put half water in the vodka under the bathroom sink, that’s the one you should let her have.

I will try.

Seth watches her; the forgetful child is on suicide monitor for his mother. Seth tries to control his impulsivity and saves her several times. Once, she overdoses, and he puts ice on her chest and makes her drink syrup of ipecac. Later the mania stops by an injection from the doctor. Dr. William McGrath retreats to his study.

No, the hummingbird chick fell out of the shell, help her, put it back together… Maiya mumbles.

Prop a chair in front of the bathroom door and leave her there in the bathtub. She might try to harm us, the doctor tells the nanny.

Lorena holds her arms at ninety degree angles, with hands arched as if she clutches two invisible balloons, a totemic figure. "Dios, My God, we can’t leave her in there."

Trust me; she’ll get bored if no one pays her attention. The shot I gave her will knock her out in five minutes.

The shot doesn’t create the desired result. Maiya kicks the door. Her noise breaks the pact of muteness that has held the house hostage. Three weeks have passed since the fire. The daughter trips up the stairs; she ignores the noise as if a freight train passes through clouds. The house is not silent.

The father orders Seth to scoop his little sister out of the house. Take the child for a walk. She’s only seven.

Seth doesn’t argue about the assignment, in this dark time he acts reasonably. Seth takes his sister Angela’s hand, gently at first.

No, Daddy. I want to stay. I don’t want to go with gross Seth, Angela McGrath says.

Seth twists his sister’s arm as he pulls her out the door.

You’re hurting me, Seth. I’m telling.

Shut your face.

The sister feels the broiling of her skin with her brother’s wrathful tone. This is one of the few occasions anyone mentions Seth’s first name in the house. She pays attention to his presence. Even though it’s June, the rain has coated the evening in a green veil. The presence of the pain flows as light from inside the fireplace and out the windowpanes. From outside, the house looks normal.

The next day everyone acts routinely. It is the same attitude – keep your mouth shut – about the fire in the back of the living room that past May. Nobody asks about evil things.

They say, Casey the bad dog ran off and is safely held by another family. There are coyotes in the area rumored to have bred with wolves. A shadowy thought of violence hushes the family from communicating this theory. A wolf in the woods sounds less frightening than a monster in an upstairs twin bed, but they don’t express these feelings.

The flooring in the home is indigo-colored stone. They continue to have the surface varnished with artists’ Damar spirits once a month to keep the rock from collecting dust in the crevices. The cleaning lady, Agnes, a plump woman from Poland, now throws away the rags soaked in varnish and turpentine to avoid another combustion fire.

Pennsylvania blue stone dates back to the Devonian Period, the doctor dictates to the repair contractor.

Hmm. The contractor is busy carrying wood siding he has freshly painted. He doesn’t look up to pay heed to the lecture.

No, really, see, it’s indestructible. William points to the flooring and fireplace mantle; this is unblemished by the fire. The doctor taps the stone with his fingernails.

The contractor doesn’t care if the rock came from the Catskills. He isn’t interested in the creation from feldspar, mica, and sand. All he wants is to be finished early today, to meet his friends for beers. The doctor distracts himself with minute details. Soon enough the men in sandy boots wearing tool belts will clear out. Everything will look the same as before.

See the fissures in the slate. These were once living organisms. The doctor chats with no audience.

The doctor and his wife concluded the decisions about their son the previous night after dinner.

Perhaps we should have your son go visit my mother for my business trip to Europe.

He could stay here with the maid, Maiya counters her husband.

Perhaps Grandmother’s discipline will redirect him.

Whatever you say. He’s not even a teenager; he’s nine, you’re certain about leaving him?

Positive. The lad goes to my mother’s house.

The doctor continues talking to himself. He’s impressed with his decisions. This is a new start.

His wife combs her fingers through a tangle of hairs at the nape of her neck and turns the necklace clasp to the rear. Are you dressed? We’re having the Campbell’s and your partner Dr. Stein and his wife for cocktails, you remember?

I’m ready.

Maiya plays bridge with the girls at the Clubhouse more often to avoid the noise of the contractors.

Pounding makes me nervous. Questions they ask are ridiculous, she tells the girls at the card game. The fire was caused by the painter who left turpentine and rags in the basement. You have to watch these worker guys. Maiya points to her napkin. They give you a price, then raise it at the end. At home they blame their son but to her audience Maiya paints a picture.

Oh, yes, they take a mile when you already agreed to certain services.

She greets her friends with her arms out. Her hands are flat and wide but her elbows are tight at her waist. This keeps them from becoming too close when she completes the greeting with the double air kiss. Out of good manners, they don’t question why she changed her explanation from the boy causing the fire.

The guests knock. The maid, Agnes, now in a silly uniform, allows them access to the living room. She uses her chubby hand to push down the ruffle in her apron.

They have not had friends over since the fire and reconstruction. Everything looks the same. It’s a social gathering where the acquaintances don’t notice Agnes smells like alcohol.

Everyone head out to my greenhouse, I just got this Maxillaria Ruiz and Pavon, 1794, William brags.

William, it doesn’t have any flowers; how can you tell one orchid from another? Mrs. Campbell chuckles.

It’s the subfamily Epindendroideae–

William, let’s go inside; they don’t care about Latin names.

Maiya, I beg to differ, that’s the genus name–

Whatever, darling. She leads him inside the door.

The women separate from their spouses without a word. The women huddle in the kitchen. Maiya explains to the two women as she hands them drinks, Dr. McGrath has a tour to demonstrate his newest invention: a viewing piece, some razzmatazz to enhance the CAT scan.

Oh really, where?

We start in Switzerland and then Germany.

That sounds marvelous, congratulations.

Yes, I am so looking forward to seeing the castles on my fun trips. The doctor, lectures during the days.

Women friends know enough not to inquire as to the whereabouts of the schnauzer. The family never again mentions the dog. Mrs. Maiya McGrath now takes to calling herself The Mrs. Doctor and forgets the fire. Shame encapsulates under a ball of rubber bands. Maiya can’t cope with the memory.

Maiya introduces the daughter, Say hello, Angela, to Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Stein.

Angela’s hand waves from the stairs. Automated, she moves flat like a paper doll to pace with the tune of Mickey’s Sound Sensation. The fingers arch as if in a granite sculpture. They move a ten-degree dip left and then right. The baby sister looks away from her parade audience.

I’m so pleased to see you again, Angela says in a high voice.

She’s getting so very grown up. Mrs. Stein points at her blonde hair.

Lovely, just beautiful, dear, she looks like a young Tippi Hedren, her mother says.

She gives a curtsey, holding an imaginary corner of her clothing. Then she shares the light of her straight teeth. The baby sister is a petite thing with hair slicked in gel into a high ponytail.

Momma, may I have some of those oatmeal cookies.

Sure, dear, but just one.

Seth doesn’t walk downstairs to make an appearance for the guests as the little sister Angela does. Seth becomes a ghost in the house. Alone in his room, he tinkers with a slingshot he’s building. The child knows better than to face the icy treatment that is colder than Lake Michigan in January.

Above Seth’s bedroom desk, he has built an elaborate shelving unit. Twenty milk crates attach to the wall with drywall screws. The bottom row is meticulously arranged in alphabetical order with small tools. Bolts, bolt cutters, clamps, coping saws, erasers, pencils, pens, screwdrivers and so forth on the bottom row. The next layer is supplies: glue of many sorts, nails, paints, rubber strappings, and wooden dowels. The top row has larger items. Seth’s parents have stayed clear of the room as if there were a sign on the door reading: Do Not Disturb, or they may be concerned that Seth’s tools hanging from the top might fall.

Seth takes things apart and rebuilds them. In a dumpster, Seth finds a broken clock radio and neon tubes. Seth makes a nixie clock. With the recycled glass tubes (WWVB), Seth continuously broadcasts time and frequency signals at 60 kHz.

The doctor likes to entertain the other physicians from the partnership. He offers them brandy in his private study.

Stein, would you like to enjoy a cigar with me?

Later, the doctor tells his friends over Rob Roy cocktails on the patio, We’re traveling to Zurich for the tour. He likes to say Zurich with a German accent.

When is your presentation at the university?

It’s in four weeks, William says.

Oh, are these Depression Glass? The Stein wife holds the flute up to the outdoor lanterns, allowing the light to filter

Reviews for The Lucky Boy

[Caroline Gerardo · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"A dark story that is parts thriller, literary, supernatural, and coming of age. Not for children under sixteen as this boy with ADD is abused and rebels. He runs away and chooses crime to make money all in the fantasy of love. The prose is different- focusing on simple beauty during the most chilling events. What he notices when stressed is like real life." Daniel Highland

[AllanAlex1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I ran across this book on another site and want to order the hardback. Poetic, strange, scary and gorgeous all in the same sentence. This boy is beaten. He has ADD. Instead of a happy tail - this is his story on the road to hell. He sells drugs to get money, he lies and gets around the worst of situations. But somehow you root for him. You will want him to succeed