Lucky Penny Chapter 1

My brother flunked his SATs. The tuition for the private school he needed to get into was ten thousand dollars.

My mother called me, her voice slick with a fabricated sweetness. “Honey, your brother needs this chance. We’re just… we’re at the end of our rope.”

“There’s cash in the register at the supermarket where I work,” she continued, her words tumbling out in a rehearsed rush. “Tonight, after my shift, I’ll bring the money home. You just tell everyone you stole it. I’ll call the police, they’ll come get you.”

“Your Uncle Joe will find out. He’ll pay the money to get you out, I know he will. The store gets its money back, you’re fine, and we’ll have the tuition for your brother. It’s a perfect plan.”

I was so stunned by the sheer audacity that I couldn’t speak. I just said no. But she kept crying, telling me how hard her and my father’s lives had been, begging me to just help them this one time.

I finally snapped.

“Why should I? Your hard life has nothing to do with me.”

“You two seem to have no trouble making babies. Maybe you should try watching more TV instead.”

* * *

I was a sickly child. My first few years were a revolving door of doctor’s visits. I’d be sick for two weeks, healthy for two weeks, like clockwork. My mother’s payday and my father’s payday were the starting pistols for my next illness.

My Uncle Joe always joked, “She’s a lucky penny, this one. Knows just when to show up.”

My parents didn’t find it so charming, especially not when my mother got pregnant again. The fine for having a second child back then was steep, money they didn’t have. Someone gave my mother a rotten piece of advice. She stuffed my few ragged clothes into a tattered backpack and left me on my Uncle Joe’s doorstep.

Before she left, she knelt down, her instructions a hurried whisper. “Your uncle always said you were his lucky penny. Well, today I’m giving him that luck.”

“Your Aunt Clara can’t have kids. A real hen that can’t lay. She’ll be so grateful to have you.”

“Now, you be good. Your uncle, he married into that family. He doesn’t have much say, no real standing. You understand who’s in charge over there. Don’t be like you are at home, with no sense. Just keep your head down, get by. And don’t forget to come home for holidays and summer breaks. You’ll need to help me out when the baby comes.”

She finished, straightened up, and ran. She ran like a demon was chasing her.

The front door was closed. The porch roof was tiny, offering no shade. I sat under the blazing southern sun for four hours. By the time my aunt and uncle got home, I was barely conscious.

“Joe, what in the world is that lying on our porch?” I heard a woman’s voice, laced with alarm.

Then, Uncle Joe’s voice. “Looks like a little girl, Clara.”

Aunt Clara sounded exasperated. “Honestly, Joe, you’ve got kids on the brain. Who would leave a child out here? She’s as thin as a dried corn stalk.”

Uncle Joe didn’t argue. He really doesn’t have a say in this house, I thought hazily. I can’t cause him any more trouble. He always seemed to like me.

My consciousness began to fade, the world dissolving into a low hum.