Step On A Crack

Chapter VI

"George? George?...oh finally, you're awake."

"Wha...?" George began to sit up only to find a hand placed on his shoulder.

"No, don't try to sit up just yet," the EMT said as she shined a penlight into the man's eyes, one at a time. "How many fingers am I holding up?" she asked.

"One? Hey lady, why would you only hold up your middle finger like that?"

The paramedic's frown turned to a smile as a familiar face joined her in the back of the ambulance. It was the police officer from the grocery store.

"I'll take it from here, Jillian," the officer said.

"Please do, Nick. He's why I hate this job sometimes," the woman said, removing a blue latex glove. She then exited the rear of the vehicle. "The bastard makes me sick."

"Alright, so what was all of that about?" George asked.

"She gave you the one finger salute because that old lady from the grocery store died on the way to the hospital shortly after you left," the policeman said. "It was everything we could do to get any medical response team in the area to volunteer to come treat your injuries."

"Okay, I see. What about the guy on the ladder?" George inquired.

"Thankfully, he survived the fall, although he's gonna be in the hospital for quite a while. The other guy, well...Look, most of us, not me mind you, but a lot of the guys and gals feel that it should have been you lying out there with a large toolbox on your head."

"Oh," George replied. "Hey, can I go or am I under arrest?"

"No, you are free to go," the policeman said, shaking his head. He then looked around to see if anyone was listening. "You can go George, but if I were you, I would lock myself indoors for a couple days, 'cause I think I know what's going on here. See, my granny was Romani..."

"A what?"

"Romani, erm gypsy. She immigrated to the United States when she was a teenager after the Second World War. I learned enough from her to know that you've got Bad Luck following you around and it's hurting other people."

George raised an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth. "Bad Luck, seriously?"

"Mock me to your own peril my friend, but you should really consider what I'm saying. You opened an umbrella indoors and that old woman died. You and I both know you didn't really kill her, but people perceive things how they want. Either way, I am assuming you probably also walked under that ladder, although I can't say for sure. Either way, I do know that you you were involved in breaking that mirror out there and the poor fellow lying on on the ground next to it paid the price," Nick said, throwing a thumb up over his shoulder toward the sidewalk.

George winced. "Yeah, that guy actually saved my life."

"Man, that sucks...um, for him."

"Tell me about it," George remarked sadly. This was probably the first time he actually cared about what happened to another human being in his entire miserable existence.

"Well, from all reports you are an out-and-out asshole to any and everyone, arrogant as can be, and have managed to piss off half of the city in one afternoon. It shouldn't be a real surprise that Bad Luck has taken an interest in you."

"You talk about it like it's a person," George said.

"It may not be a person, but it's definitely real. Any other instances of Bad Luck happen to you today?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah a couple things. First, I picked up a penny on tails and got beat up, but I caused that. Then, there was this black cat and I got hit by a bus," George replied. "I thought that was my fault, too."

"Okay, wow! You need to be really careful George. Have you been messing around with any magic?"

"Magic?"

"Yeah," the policeman said seriously.

"Um, no." Lie.

"Okay, because playing around with things like that when you don't understand them can get you hurt, or worse, killed. If I didn't know any better I would say you are definitely going to die very soon unless you are really careful."

George stared at Nick in shock. "How can you say that?"

"According to my Granny, Death comes in three's. It's a rule, a universal law really. If Bad Luck wants you dead, it has to kill two people you are associated with before it can get to you. Usually it's people who love you, but..."

"Okay, I get that. So, first, what do I have to do?"

Bang, bang! Jillian the EMT slapped her hand on the shell of the ambulance twice. George nearly jumped from his skin. "Everybody out! We got a call over on 23rd.," she said. "I imagine you won't be far behind, Nick."

Nick's radio squelched. "All units, 10-32, man with a gun..." The police officer turned down the radio and looked over at George. "Duty calls, good luck, George." Nick patted George on the shoulder, turned, and bolted from the ambulance toward his patrol car.

"Wait! Nick! What can I do? You didn't tell me, yet!"

"Go home, George, and lock the door!" Nick yelled over his shoulder.

"Out, dickhead!" Jillian shouted. "I got people who need medical care that deserve it and they are waiting on me!"

George stepped from the emergency vehicle clutching his bandaged hand to his chest.

"By the way, you should see a doctor about that hand," Jillian said and then slammed the ambulance doors with a thud.

George flinched. "Damn, even with my powers...shut up with that stupid shit, you arrogant fool," he thought to himself. "This is serious!" George wondered how in the world he could stop Bad Luck if it wanted him dead. Nick was very serious about the reality of its existence and there was obviously more to the story. Unfortunately, the policeman didn't have time to tell him how to stop it and now George couldn't go back to the library since he was banned from returning. He was stuck.

"Killer!" someone shouted, shaking George from his thoughts.

"Murderer!" yelled another.

George lowered his head and limped off toward his home.