Getting Lucky (The Story)

By R. Gerry Fabian

Getting Lucky (The Story) is the prequel to the novel, Memphis Masquerade. In this novel, the details of how the characters in Memphis Masquerade met and interacted are traced, It also introduces other characters who become central in the other novels. Many of the situations in Memphis Masquerade are fully explained. This novel is actually the second novel in the series in terms of publication. Those who have not read Memphis Masquerade may wish to begin with this one first. For those who have read Memphis Masquerade, this may help with a deeper understanding of that particular novel. Getting Lucky (The Story) takes place in Pittsburgh, PA, Canton and Cleveland, Ohio and outside of Carlisle, PA. The novel introduces the main characters’ initial meeting with Parnell Deauxpree and the intrigue that follows. It is a cyber active novel. This allows the reader to click on the song links and listen to the songs over the internet via YouTube.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. Gerry Fabian
• Release date: Nov 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370226313

R. Gerry Fabian

R. Gerry Fabian is a published poet and novelist.He has published four books of published poetry. Parallels,Coming Out Of The Atlantic, Electronic Forecasts,Wildflower Women as well as a poetry baseball book,Ball On The Mound. In addition, he has publishedfour novels part of the Ingenuous Serendipity Series : Getting Lucky (The Story),Memphis Masquerade, Seventh Sense and Ghost Girl.His fifth novel is Just Out Of Reach.He lives in Doylestown, PA.

Book preview

Getting Lucky

(The Story)

By

R. Gerry Fabian

Copyright 2016 R. Gerry Fabian

All Rights Reserved

SMASHWORDS EDITION

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of R. Gerry Fabian.

Cyber Active

(NOTE: This information applies to ebook version only)

A cyber active novel employs links to the Internet which allows the reader to gain a broader scope of interaction with the work. This scope may include pictures, audio and articles to provide the reader with an expanded view of the novel. Due to the fluid nature of the Internet, these links may disappear over time. However, the advantage of ebook publishing is that the Internet is always available to further exploration. Getting Lucky (The Story) uses links to YouTube as a musical reference to its readers.

Getting Lucky (The Story) is the first of a series of novels involving two retired teachers in a series of adventures involving intrigue, action, romance and conspiracy. In this first novel, the reader is introduced to several key characters who play significant roles in the other novels. Getting Lucky (The Story) takes place in Pittsburgh, PA, Canton, OH, Cleveland, OH and outside of Carlisle, PA. as well as various stops along the way. This novel describes the main characters’ initial meeting with Parnell Deauxpree and the chicanery that follows.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1-Start Me Up

Chapter 2-Radio Radio

Chapter 3-Voodoo Cadillac

Chapter 4 - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Chapter 5- On The Road Again

Chapter 6-Rock And Roll Hootchie Koo

Chapter 7-You Can Leave Your Hat On

Chapter 8-Then Came You

Chapter 9- Runaway

Chapter 10-Now That We Found Love

Chapter 11-Caught Up In You

Chapter 12-Don’t Fear The Reaper

Chapter 13-Country Comfort

Chapter 14-Like To Get To Know You

Chapter 15-Danger Zone

Chapter 16-Goodbye To Love

Chapter 17-Can’t Find My Way Home

Chapter 18-Days Go By

Chapter 19-Deja Vu All Over Again

Chapter 20 -You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Chapter 21-Midnight Rider

Chapter 22-Black Friday

Chapter 23-Home At Last

Chapter 24-Bits And Pieces

Chapter 25-White Christmas

Short Epilogue - Finish What You Started

About The Author

Dedicated to

Buddy Fabian

Chapter 1

Start Me Up

The thunder cracked and then a series of lightning flashes lit up the sky followed by more thunder. I turned slightly only to discover I was being swept by a surging torrent of white capped foam water into an almost kaleidoscope of purple and red and peppermint light show. It became hard to breathe and I felt the water pulling me under. A strange woman grabbed me and forced me to the surface and while I struggled to stay above, she gently started to push my head under the water. Another blasting sound of thunder and I came awake.

My T-shirt was soaked in perspiration and my sheets were all akimbo. I took a long slow breath, tried to focus my eyes and get some bearings. A glance at the clock indicated that I was 5:07 am. My alarm was set for 8 am. I regathered my sheets and threw them across me. The rain pounded against my bedroom windows. I was almost asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Three hours later, the alarm went off and I slowly came back from the land of sleep. All of this confusion stemmed from my final dose of Sandex and the anxiety of driving to Pittsburgh to see my best friend, Bubba Smoans. I wanted to go back to sleep as I felt like I hadn’t even slept an hour, but I got up. I raised the shade and looked outside and the branches and leaves on the lawn confirmed the remnants of the evening’s storm. The sun was shining now and the puddles were drying up. I went downstairs to get some orange juice and a cigarette. The Sandex had provided some weird dreams but hadn’t helped me stop smoking at all. I also knew that the idea of trying to quit smoking before embarking on this road trip was one of the stupidest ideas I had ever attempted. I poured the juice and lit a cigarette. My plan was to depart around 9:00 am and already I was mentally pushing that time back. What I need right now, is to take a shower and ease into this trip. I said out loud. I don’t know when I started talking to myself out loud but it has become a regular habit. I finished the juice and cigarette and went back upstairs. Then this mild paroxysm of light flash went off. Recently I had been having these flashes of light bursts similar to the effect of having your picture taken with a flash bulb.

They would occur randomly without any warning. I made a mental note to get my eyes checked when I returned home.

After the shower, I dressed and put my silver metallic bracelet on my wrist. I was diagnosed with ‘trigger finger’ in the fourth finger of my left hand. The doctor wanted to perform surgery to fix it but since the surgery on had a 50% cure rate, I opted for the metallic bracelet that I read about in an article on the Internet while researching ‘trigger finger’. Believe it or not, the bracelet cured it. Still, I continued to wear it as a precaution. I felt like my old crazy self again. I grabbed my bags and did a quick overview just to be sure I didn’t forget anything. Everything checked out. I glided down the stairs and into the kitchen. Breakfast seemed like a good idea but I gave into the temptation to get going. I know it is the most important meal of the day. I do. Usually I eat breakfast every morning. Today, however, I just wanted to get started. I checked the house and locked the door. I was off. My car is a four door Chevy Blazer. Its nickname is Blaze. How original.

I name all my cars and this particular car, (substitute SUV) for those of you, who require accuracy, has been very good to me. The car has a four-wheel drive option that allows me to just about go anywhere. It has saved me numerous times in very snowy weather. It has cloth seats that I prefer to leather and a great radio. Just about all I require in a vehicle. As I loaded my bags into the back, I realized what a beautiful day it was. A late September morning. During my teaching days, I never was able to appreciate just what a wonderful month September is. It was around 9:00 when I was just about ready to leave. My one final chore was to attach my Garmin GPS to the window. Once again I have named this particular device. I call it Martha as the voice sounds exactly like a student I once taught. I have to say the GPS has been a savior to my driving. have no sense of direction and when I say that, it is a true understatement. If there were a level beyond no sense of direction, I would fall below that. Even with Martha, I can still manage to get totally lost as I often do not trust her directions and go my own way. The HUGE advantage is that when this happens, she can recalculate and get me back on track.

With everything set, I lit a cigarette and pulled out of the driveway. My plan, and remember anyone who has ever taught in a school not only has a plan but has a back-up plan as well, was to leave after rush hour and school bus annoyance and get to the hotel where we were staying before any signs of rush hour in Pittsburgh .Once I met Bubba who was flying in, we were going to Canton, Ohio to see the Football Hall of Fame and then drive up to Cleveland and visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It promised to be a great reunion.

I did not activate Martha’s GPS to start. I had the trip programmed but I knew a short cut to get to the PA Turnpike and Martha would drive me crazy recalculating as she would want to take me another way. This I knew from experience. I pulled out of the driveway and started to wind my way through the many side streets and back roads that would get me to the turnpike. Now, I am a believer in omens. I don’t always get them correct. Sometimes, what I take to be a bad omen turns out to be good and vice versa. This omen belief comes from teaching English literature for thirty-five years. So, when I made a left turn onto the country road that would boost my travel time, the fact that there was a car going all of 18 miles per hour slowed me to a crawl. This was the first of many omens to follow. Behind the wheel of the car was an old man or woman slumped down so low I could not imagine how he or she could see the road. All I could ascertain was a shock of white hair. Now I know that someday in the not too distant future, that is going to be me but it’s not me now and since I knew this road had a no passing line for the next 15 or so miles, I felt some of the air go out of my enthusiasm. And to add to my annoyance, some young kid came speeding up behind me only to brake hard and slow to the crawl. He leaned on his car horn which gave me a start but did nothing to the driver ahead of me. The kid hit the horn again and again. He started to pull out to pass me just as a car was coming around the bend in the road. He swerved back into the lane but must have seen that it was not my vehicle going so slow as he did not hit his horn again. On we crawled. A quick look in my rear-view mirror established that there was now a line of five cars behind me. As we passed an access road to the right, the kid used the area to pass both my car and the old person on the right. Gravel flew everywhere.

Where’s a cop when you need one? I said out loud. We were coming to a stoplight up ahead.

Please don’t turn left. I repeated over and over like a mantra.

The white hair stopped at the red light. No turn-signal.

Yes. I heard myself say.

When the light turned green, instead of going straight, the white hair turned left across the turning lane that would have resulted in a major accident if anyone had been in the lane. Really?! The use of the interrobang is intentional.

I made a split decision to go straight. I knew a way that was a little longer but would get me back to the road and hopefully in front of White Hair. When I hit the posted speed of 45 mph, the cars behind me began to properly space again. Then that flash of light hit me. I continued on while blinking my eyes. Within three miles of the traffic light, I rounded the bend to see that a police car had pulled over the kid who had passed us on the right. The officer was writing up a ticket as the kid stared off into space. And thus, my first omen was complete. I came to the left turn I needed to make to get back to my desired road and stopped at the stop sign. As I looked left, I saw a long line of cars slowly moving in the direction of the stop sign. I turned right with a smirky smile on my face. As soon as it was safe to do so, I reached across the windshield and tapped Martha to activate her. Recalculating. She said to me.

As I drove, I thought about the quit smoking study I had just completed. I had heard about it on a radio ad. A major Philadelphia university sponsored the study. The basic premise of the study was that you had to be a certain age and have a desire to quit smoking. I called the number and they told me it would be a three-week period. I would get a physical and take a few tests and that they would pay me a set amount of money for each visit. Some people would be given the drug; Sandex, and other people would be given a placebo. You had to keep a checklist each day of certain times you smoked cigarettes and agree to call in or come down for your check-ups. The fact that they were going to pay me for trying to quit smoking was all the incentive that I needed.

I knew right away that I had been given the drug because the second night I took the pill; I had the most incredible dreams. This was one of the side effects. I loved the dreams. They were multicolored flashes and splashes of the most amazing situations. I talked to other participants while waiting for the various tests they put you through. Some people hated their dreams because they were so scary and frightening but I never had those types of dreams. Mine were great. I finished the entire study which apparently most people did not do. The worst thing that happened was that during one visit, they put me inside a MRI machine that was a long tube that slid me into its inner bowels. My personal assistant was a young college student named Michael who treated me with kid gloves. I found out later that for every patient who completed the study, the assistant got a good bonus check. The one thing Michael did wrong was to ask me if I was claustrophobic. I hadn’t even thought about it until he brought it up and then it locked into my mind. I was in that machine for about an hour. There was a screen inside that showed pictures and my guess is that somehow it registered my brain impulses based on the picture. There were quite a few pictures of people smoking interspersed with various other pictures. Michael and the woman running the machine could talk to me while I was inside the machine and they gave me instructions such as roll to the left, put the pillow behind your neck and take ten slow breaths and exhale very slowly. Toward the end, I was beginning to freak out. I started to get agitated and fought the urge to tell them to get me out of there. Once the test ended and I got out of the tube, Michael wanted to take me immediately to another testing room. I firmly told him that I was going outside to smoke a cigarette first. Probably not the response that he was looking for. All in all, I enjoyed the study even though I did not quit smoking or even feel the desire to quit. I did have one regret. There was an African American woman in several of my groups. She may have been a little younger than I was but I found her to be stunning. During one of our breaks, I introduced myself to her and she told me that her name was Aleta. I thought she said, Aleda, but she spelled it for me. We became very friendly as the sessions continued. I loved her sense of humor and she had a certain style that just drew me to her. She wore no rings on either of her hands which I found unusual. To me, it became evident that she liked me as her face lit up every time I walked into a session where she was. During one instance, I could tell that she wanted to do something together after the session. My hesitation was based on my usual caution. I stayed cautious and told her that I was looking forward to the next session. She seemed disappointed but told me she’d see me in a couple of days. On the ride home, I had a long talk with myself and decided at the next session, I’d ask her out to lunch. When I went to the next session, she wasn’t there and I never saw her again. All I had was her first name. I tried to get Michael to get her last name and phone number for me. He gave me ‘the patient files are confidential’ line. This seems to be the story of my life. Just too cautious for my own good. I was almost to the turnpike entrance so I turned on the car radio. A song by Elvis Costello was just beginning.

Chapter 2

Radio Radio

As I slowed to get a ticket at the turnpike tollbooth, I looked at Martha and was pleased to see that the bulk of this trip would be on the turnpike. I placed the ticket safely in the glove box (I often wonder how many people keep gloves in the glove box, I don’t.) and slowly pulled into the entrance lane. I watched as the car ahead of me accelerated like a race car start to edge in front of a car that would not pull over into the center lane. The best piece of driving advice I ever received was from my high school driving instructor. What he told me was to assume that every driver on the road was either crazy or drunk and to drive accordingly. Never assume they will stop at a stop sign, red light or when you have the right of way. Shortly thereafter, there was a lull in the traffic and I easily joined the traffic. Martha told me to stay on the road for the next 250 miles and estimated the driving time around 41/2 hours. I knew it would take a bit longer as I planned to make some rest stops for food and leg stretching. It was almost 9:30, so I figured to get to Pittsburgh around 3 pm and that would be ahead of rush hour. So far, so good.

I now turned my attention the car radio. As I stated earlier, I love the radio/speaker system in this Blazer. The sound is clear and clean. And the volume can give the Roland 808 a run for its money. Great bass. Now I have been a mobile disc jockey for over twenty years. I got my start at the college radio station in my freshman year. I grew up listening to all sorts of music and when a friend of mine said he was going to join the radio station, I went along to keep him company. The radio station had a small FM signal that basically reached the campus and surrounding town. What we found out was that you needed third class operator permit in order to be on the air. The Federal Communications Commission center gave the test on selected dates and if you passed all three sections then you were issued a license. The closest center was in Buffalo, New York about four hours away. We could send away to get a book with all the information we would need to study for the test. Well, that was enough for me, I already had enough studying to do but my friend, Phil sent away for it.

When the book finally came along with test dates, Phil started studying it. Phil had been in the Army and was now attending college on some kind of grant. He had an Oldsmobile Cutlass Convertible that made him very popular around campus as he was one of the few people who had a car as a freshman. My guess was that Phil was about 24 years old while most of us were 18 or 19 years of age. Together, Phil and I were an odd couple as he was short haired and wore Arrow shirts with khaki pants. On the other hand, my hair was extremely long, almost to my shoulders, and I lived in t-shirts and jeans. But we got along well and his nickname for me was Hippie. Never once did he ever call me my real name, just Hippie. He said it with admiration and affection that was not the case with many other people at the time.

On an October, Tuesday, when I didn’t have any classes and Phil was willing to skip one of his, he decided to drive to Buffalo to take the test. He asked me to go along for company and we left at 8:00 am so we would be there in plenty of time for the 1:00 testing time. As he drove, Phil had me read the FCC manual to him and ask him various questions from it. By the time we were almost there, I had gone through the manual three times.

It was around 11:30 when we hit the outskirts of Buffalo and Phil asked if I wanted to get lunch. We drove into this little New York village and found a diner on the main street. It was an old silver diner with a stool counter and tables. As soon as we entered the place, it got quiet. Sit anywhere you like. The waitress said without looking around.

We chose a table. Then the waitress came over and handed Phil a menu and dropped mine in front of me.

What the ... I began to say but Phil stopped me. It’s your hair.

This had been happening to me a lot lately but it still took me back. I picked up the menu and one of the specials was hamburger w/ fries and a drink - $2.69.

That hamburger special looks good.

Phil nodded.

While we waited, I flipped the pages of the Seeburg table jukebox. The entire selection cards were full of only country western songs. And while I had nothing against country western, I wasn’t going to waste a quarter on these songs.

The waitress returned and said to Phil, What will you have, sir?

Phil replied with, The hamburger special.

Then looking at Phil, she said, What will ‘It’ have?

He looked at me knowing I was about to go off and said, My friend will have the same. And we would each like a Coke as well.

Phil handed his menu to the waitress and then she turned to me. I knew this was going to be a dilemma for her and waited to see how she would approach it. There was no way I was going to hand it to her. Before anything could transpire, Phil took my menu and handed it to the waitress with a smile, I glared at him. We don’t need any trouble right now. He said to me.

When the waitress returned with our meals, she placed one in front of Phil and one in front of me. Then Phil reached over and switched the plates as she stood there. This I didn’t get at first. He then said to her, Is this okay or would you like to get me another one. She flinched a little and took the plate.

Thank you. He nodded.

I looked with astonishment at Phil and before I could say anything, he said, Please, not now. Let’s just eat lunch, pay for it and get to Buffalo. I waited until she returned with a new plate for Phil and we ate our lunch. The irony was that it was an excellent hamburger.

She brought the check and Phil took it, left a tip and went to the cashier to pay. I went outside and lit a cigarette. When he came out, we got in the car and were back on our way. I offered to pay for my half but Phil said that it was his treat since I had come along with him.

How did you know? I asked him.

I didn’t. I figured that if I switched them, she would not let me eat the one they had tampered with. I caught her and she knew it.

What do you think they did to it? I asked.

You probably don’t want to know. And just for the record, Hippie, if you’re going to go around looking like you do, you better be very suspicious of people who don’t like what they think you stand for.

That was very sound advice!

We arrived in Buffalo, found the FCC building, parked the car and went inside. This test takes about two hours, Phil said, What are you going to do? I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I’ll take it too. Phil had already registered so he paid his money and got his seat number. Mine was a little more complicated. Since I hadn’t registered, they had to see if someone did not show up and if that was the case, I could take the test. So, I filled out the form, paid the $10.00 that was a fortune in those days, and waited. The woman at the desk smiled at me.

Don’t worry, honey. They never all show up.

She was correct. So, when the time came, I went in the room, opened the test and began. It was not very hard in my opinion; a lot of ‘common sense’ questions. There were three parts to it and only the reading of dials and output gauges caused me any sense of concern. A lot of it was right from the manual which I had read cover to cover three times in the last four hours. When I finished, I handed the test in. Phil was still working on his, so I went outside and smoked a cigarette. I came back in and started to talk to one of the staff. In our general conversation, he told me that a person could work with another person in a radio station as long as one of them had a license. No one at the college radio station had mentioned that to us. When Phil came out, we got in the car and started back. I told Phil what the staff guy told me. He was as surprised as I was nobody told us about this. Then he started talking about the test.

Did you know that watts are power and ohms are resistance? He asked me.

What?

The question about watts and ohms.

I didn’t have any question about watts and ohms. I stated.

In a few moments, we realized that we had different tests. Our drive back to campus was uneventful. We did not stop at any diners although Phil managed to point out every diner that we passed on the way back. We even made it back in time for supper. Phil liked to drive fast.

About four weeks later, Phil was waiting for me in the dorm.

Go to your mailbox. The test results are back.

I went to my mailbox and got the mail including a large brown envelope from the FCC. I hurried