Chapter 1
The Strange Fate of Luke Edmunds
Chapter 1
Luke Edmunds wanted a fix. He needed one really bad, but there wasn't anywhere he was going to get one in here. They locked the door at night and the pharmacy window had bars. No matter how hard he begged, the self-righteous medical staff on duty would only give him his daily dose of suboxone and some vitamins to shut him up. He would have thrown the chest of drawers through the window and made a break for it but everything in the room was bolted to the floor.
Luke confined himself to lay curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, suffering from the effects of addiction withdrawal. He wallowed in a stupor of self-pity.
Oh God damn it! God damn it! God damn it! I hate rehab!!!
Suddenly, a facility orderly opened the door and peeked his head inside.
"I'm here to get your vitals, man. Are you going to give me a hard time again?" The orderly asked as he rolled the vitals machine in.
"I want to get the hell outta here, man!" Luke whined.
"We've already been through this, Mr. Edmunds. The ER rolled you in here after they stabilized you. You OD'ed. Did you know you were clinically dead for two minutes? If you didn't have some good medical staff you wouldn't be here right now."
Luke sat up and held out his arm to get his blood pressure taken. "Do what you gotta do, asshole. Then get the hell out. When my seventy-two hours are up, you'll be hearing from my lawyer."
"Yeah, whatever pal." The orderly wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Luke's arm and turned on the machine. He took Luke's temperature and left the room abruptly, locking the door behind.
Luke looked up at the camera mounted on the high ceiling and flipped it off.
Take that, you motherfuckers. You could at least give me a blanket!
Luke shivered violently as he rolled back up, hugging himself tightly and rocking back and forth. It was going to be a long night for Luke Edmunds.
Oh god! I wish I was dead! After a while, he drifted off into a fitful night of savage sleep, tossing and turning with the most vivid and dreadful dreams of his young life.
After a week of treatment at the Springbrook Rehabilitation Facility in upstate New York, Luke was starting to feel more like a human and less like a human turd. As the withdrawal symptoms slowly faded, he was allowed out into the local populace to 'socialize' with the rest of the inpatient losers. This was not his first rodeo, not even his second. It probably won’t be his last. He had forgotten how many times he had been committed to involuntary rehab but he knew his first time was around fourteen years of age. He was twenty-one now, he knew he had the eventual pleasure of being arrested and placed in front of a judge for sentencing on drug charges when he was done with his time in rehab.
Damn, he was jonesing for a fix. He wondered if could bum another cigarette off one of these other losers next break. And to hell with that nicorette gum!
Luke was sitting in the day room in his green paper scrubs, staring blankly at the television screen, when Bob, the day orderly, approached him.
"Edmunds, you have a visitor," He said.
"Oh yeah, well tell dear old Dad to go to hell, I have no interest." Bob just shook his head.
"I don't think it's your father. He looks like your lawyer."
Well, that was quick. "Okay, Bob. That's entirely different. Lead the way." Luke got up from his chair and followed the large orderly into one of the meeting rooms.
The man in the three-piecee suit was sitting at the desk with his briefcase open and a stack of papers neatly arranged. He was a tall black man who looked around thirty-five years of age, well-muscled, and sharply dressed. He extended his right hand to shake Luke's hand.
Luke looked at him like he was infected with the plague and then looked the man in his eyes and said. "Who the hell are you?" The man retracted his hand and gave him a blank stare.
"I'm your Uncle's lawyer, Victor Hodges. I handle his estate. I'm afraid I have some bad and possibly some good news for you."
Luke stared blankly at the man's face.
"I'm afraid your Uncle passed away last night in his sleep. The doctor said he didn't suffer. So that's the bad news."
"I barely knew him. I think dad hated his guts but he never talked much about him. Wasn't he some kind of scientist or something?" Luke searched his childhood memory. He met him a couple of times when he was a little kid about eight years old. He recalled the smell of his old stogies he used to smoke. Luke thought it was what probably killed him.
"So. What did i do wrong now?"
"Besides the obvious?" The lawyer looked around the room in a mocking fashion.
"Listen, if you're here to keep me out of jail, so be it. If you're here to bust my balls, fuck off, I got some serious sleeping I have to get to." The lawyer gave him a nonchalant look.
"Believe me, Mr. Edmunds. I didn't choose to be here, but I am still in your Uncle's employ and as soon as you sign these papers, right here, right now, I will still be in your employment unless you want other legal representation."
"What? You mean I get a free lawyer?"
"No, Mr. Edmunds. You'll still be paying me."
"Ppphhhhhtttt." Luke gave him the raspberry, flipped him the bird, and then turned to go back to bed.
"I don't think you understand, Mr. Edmunds. I didn't give you the good news. You are the sole beneficiary of your Uncle's estate." Luke stopped in his tracks. He turned back around to look at his Uncle's lawyer.
"You happen to be a very, very rich man, Mr. Edmunds. If you sign these papers, by tomorrow night at the latest, you will have access to assets in excess of two billion dollars." Luke's eyes widened like saucers. He couldn't believe what he just heard. “Given that you're facing a long stretch in the state penitentiary, I suggest you sign them. If not then go ahead and return to your room and good luck with the New York court system.”
He could not think of anything to say "What? When can I get out of here?"
"I've already made…certain arrangements. I can have you released today, if you like." The lawyer said.
"Well, hell yeah! Let's do this already. I've got places to go and people see!"
And then things literally went to hell after that. For real. They literally went to flame-broiled, pitchfork carrying, Satan ruling HELL after he signed those papers. Far from Luke Edmunds wildest imaginings, his life was about to become more complicated than he could have ever surmised.
CHAPTER 2
Luke felt like a new man as he was allowed to get dressed in his street clothes and was being escorted out of Sunnybrook. Bob the orderly followed him out the front door and seemed to be happy Luke was leaving.
"Don't come back, kid."
"Don't worry Bob. I've got enough money I can do rehab in one of those real nice facilities the movie stars go to. I won't be back in this dump, ever."
"You'll be dead by then. I've seen it once, I've seen it a thousand times, you're a loser. And you ain't gonna get any better. All that money doesn't mean squat if you're six feet under the ground."
"Maybe so, Bob. But I'm a filthy rich loser and I'm fixing to have some fun before I kick it. And that's all that matters."
So with that, Luke bid a fond farewell to the Sunnybrook Rehabilitation and Recovery Center. He gave the place his good-bye finger and went to get in his lawyer's waiting...limousine? Sweet! This keeps getting better and better.
The limo left the parking lot and started north on route 85. Luke settled in to the comfortably plush seats the luxury vehicle had to offer and relaxed.
He had spent the last year couch surfing, homeless. Sleeping in store fronts and parking garages in New York City, eating out of dumpsters and trying not to get stabbed or shot.
"Well, I could go for a beer. Can we stop off somewhere?"
His lawyer shook his head in a thinly veiled look of disgust. "You're three minutes out of rehab and you want a fix so bad you can taste it? That's pretty pathetic, Mr. Edmunds. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you remanded into my custody. However, your Uncle knew a lot of influential people in high places. You need to stay out of trouble for a while."
"Why so formal? Call me Luke."
"So when can I fire you again? Right now or after the funeral?" Luke added.
"After. And there's another stipulation. You have to wear one of your uncle's suits to the funeral. After the services are completed, you're on your own, if you wish it."
"Oh. I hope so. I don't need a fancy lawyer to help me blow all my Uncle's money. If that's even possible."
An awkward silence.
"So all I have to do is stay clean and sober for twenty-four and wear some old man's suit to his funeral?"
"That's correct, Mr. Edmunds."
"Weird. This isn’t some kinky sex thing, is it? Two bill is a lot of money but I've got my limits and…"
"No. It's not, Mr. Edmunds!"
"Okay, Mr. Lawyerman. I had to ask...But what if it doesn't fit? The suit I mean."
"Don't worry, Mr. Edmunds. It will fit. It always fits."
Luke was puzzled about what his temp lawyer said but blew it off. He had already busted his balls enough.
The rest of the six hour car trip was made in relative silence. All that Luke was concerned about was that he would soon be on easy street for the rest of his days and nobody could tell him what to do or how to run his life, ever. In a few days, he was to learn that the truth was a relative term.
"Upstate New York? Where the hell are we? There's like...nothing out here, man!" Luke said as he awoke from his slumber. He wiped the drool from his chin as he stretched and yawned.
"Relax, Mr. Edmunds. We've been on your Uncle's estate for the last twenty minutes. He owned three hundred acres of prime Andirondack property. The mansion should be minutes away.”
"Really? A mansion? I own a mansion?"
"Not until late afternoon tomorrow, Mr. Edmunds."
As he pulled into the long circular drive, the huge water fountain featuring a giant stone gargoyle with water spraying from his mouth and nose was the first thing that caught Luke's attention.
"Wow. That thing is pretty ugly, man. What kind of nutcase was my Uncle anyways? Dad always said he was an inventor of some sorts."
"You could say that. Your Uncle was a scientific genius, of sorts."
"So what'd he invent? The pet rock or the frisbee…?"
Victor ignored the young man's question and exited the limousine's opened door.
"Come, Mr. Edmund's. I will introduce you to the staff…and we will try on that suit."
Luke stepped outside into the driveway and looked up at the massive five story mansion standing before him. He let out an impressive whistle. The building was as massive as it was ornate.
"Woah! Elvis eat your heart out!" Luke said in an awed voice.
They walked slowly up to the front doors of the mansion. Victor in the lead, Luke the shorter man by a head, behind him. The doors were huge, about fifteen feet tall and made of solid oak with intricately carved decor which revealed its considerable age and craftsmanship.
Victor rang the doorbell and waited patiently for someone to answer.
A few moments later, a housemaid answered the door.
"Monsieur Victor! Good evening, you must be so tired from your trip."
"Good evening Claudette."
Claudette turned " Excuse-moi, Monsieur Edmunds, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." The young maid curtsied gracefully and opened the door wider. "Please, come in. The study is prepared for your arrival and refreshments await. Please follow me." She turned on her heels and santured into the dimly-lit foyer.
They followed the young miss through the hallway into the main entranceway. Luke took his eyes off the maid long enough to look around. His jaw dropped at the opulence of the spacious entrance.
"Woah! Look at this! It's like Homes of the Stars, only better. How big is this place?"
"It's a lot larger than you think, Mr. Edmunds. This way…" Victor stepped into a side room into what was the study. The smell of old cigars and leather furniture made its way into Luke's olfactory senses. It was a library of sorts, with many books resting comfortably on innate, wood carved bookshelves. There was a fireplace and several leather plush chairs surrounding it. The room was decorated with many expensive antique items, tables, and an old grandfather clock in the corner. To Luke, the place smelled rank with money. Old, unrelenting money.
Victor walked over to a brandy decanter and poured himself a stiff drink. Luke's ears perked with the sound of the clanking of glass and the pouring of liquid.
"Hey. Yo. Vic, don't you think I want one of those?'
"Tomorrow after the funeral. You can have anything you like as much as you like. Not until after."
"Well, that sucks."
Victor pointed at the trays of snacks on a silver tray "Eat some of that, Mr. Edmunds. You don't look well."
Luke surrendered and started picking at the snack tray, not realizing he was as hungry as a wolf.
"If you gentlemen do not need anything else, I shall tell Chef Joseph you have arrived. Dinner will be ready in two hours."
"Could you tell Maurice to bring the suit for a fitting, Claudette?"
"Yes sir, right away." And the young maid walked away with her legs looking nice in the light of the exit way.
"Stop staring, Mr. Edmunds. She's way, way too old for you."
Luke shrugged his shoulders. "She doesn't look that old!"
"Everything inside Edmunds estate, including the grounds, is never what it seems, Mr. Edmunds. You'd do well to remember that."
"More riddles,man? What am I, Bruce Wayne?"
"No, Mr. Edmunds. You're as far away from Batman as the Earth is to the sun."
Maurice, the tailor, was a short smallish man, similar to Luke's size. He was bald and wore a handlebar mustache and the attire of any haberdasher worth his salt. He brought with him a fine, expensive looking three-piece suit with a black tie and golden cufflinks.
"Do we have to do this now? The funeral isn't until tomorrow afternoon." Luke complained. He was tired and he wanted a fix.
"I insist, Mr. Edmunds. And at least you'll be well dressed for dinner. So please, follow Maurice to the nearest cabinet bathroom and feel free to 'freshen' up.'" Maurice stood by, waiting patiently.
"Listen, Yo. I'm getting really tired of being told what to do. I'm going to go along with this for now. But I'm telling you, I'm starting to lose my patience."
"Of course, Mr. Edmunds. I thank you for your understanding. This all must be overwhelming for you. I'm just asking you to be a little more patient. You can do whatever you like after…"
"...after the funeral, yeah. I got that, Chief. Okay. I'll play along...for now." Luke interrupted. With that, Luke followed Maurice down a dark hallway to the nearest bathroom.
Luke felt better after getting something in his stomach and getting a nice hot shower. He found a pair of shears in the medicine cabinet and even trimmed his beard a little. He started dressing in the clothes Maurice had laid out for him.
It had been years since Luke had worn a suit, at the wedding of his best friend Alex to be exact. Forget that tie though. I don't do ties. He left the tie on the bathroom sink and exited to the adjacent bedroom. Maurice was standing patiently for him with a smile on his face.
"You look exquisite, sir. Simply smashing! There is the matter of the tie, sir."
"I don't like ties. I don't do ties."
"Sir. This is one of the finest suits ever fashioned. It was your Uncle's since he was about your age. This suit is one of a kind, it deserves to be...complete."
Luke sighed. "Alright, Maurice. But as soon as dinner is over the tie is coming off, okay?"
Maurice smiled again and produced the black tie in his hands. Funny. Luke thought, I left that tie in the bathroom.
"Fair enough. Very good, sir. Shall I assist you with your tie, sir?"
Luke nodded. He doubted he could remember how to tie a tie anyways. Maurice slung the tie around his neck, fashioned a windsor knot with expert ease, and adjusted it accordingly.
"Marvelous, Sir. You really should see for yourself." Maurice gestured to the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. Luke stepped in front of it and stared at himself. He looked and felt...different.
"Wow. I barely recognize myself. I look like a secret agent."
"Yes sir, James Bond should look so good, sir."
"I like my vodka martinis shaken...not stirred." Luke said in a fair imitation of Sean Connery.
"You did a good job, Maurice. I thought Uncle Thad was way taller than me. How did you know my size?"
"I really cannot take too much credit, sir. The suit always fits."
"Yeah. So I heard." Whatever. "Well, sorry Maurice. After tomorrow, I don't plan on wearing a suit ever again, or I would keep you on. You seem good at what you do."
"Thank you, sir. That's very well, sir. I have many other clients and I think this is the only suit you will be needing from now on, sir."
Dinner
Luke was already bathed, dressed and hungry when Claudette came to escort him to the dining room.
"Monsieur Luke! You look magnificent!" She exclaimed in that french accent he found to be so attractive. He would have blushed if he had any color in his face.
"Uh. Mmm. Thank you...Claudette, is it?" He fidgeted. It had been a long time since he had been alone with a girl this pretty.
"Oui, Monsieur Luke. I've been serving your Uncle for many, many years now. I was ...very sad at his passing. I am so...sorry."
"I didn't even know him, really. I haven't seen him since I was a little kid."
She led him into a long room with high ceilings and ornate woodworking along the walls. There was a large, long table in the center of the room with food displayed on expensive looking cookware. There was also fine china and silverware set-up like a banquet at a fancy ball or a state event. It was darkly lit and reminded Luke of a set from a Dracula movie.
"Woah. Look at all that food! I would have settled for a sandwich."
"Chef Joe wants to impress the new master of the house, no?" Colette said. "Monsieur Victor, will join you in a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable, Monsieur Luke...if you need anything at all, please ring the bell." She pointed to a silver bell on the wall.
"Okay, Hey, you can just call me Luke. Just plain Luke ..you can drop the…"
He turned to face Claudette but she was gone, nowhere in sight.
She pulled a Batman, he thought. Just like every other pretty girl in his life. She pulled a Batman.
Luke sat down and helped himself to dinner, he felt maybe he should have waited but he suddenly felt an overwhelming need to eat. As a matter of fact, he felt better than he had in years. Like he could run a marathon or some such thing. Usually he barely ate anything.
He helped himself to what he thought was duck and some mashed potatoes and gravy, some broccoli, and some drink that was kind of like fruit punch. Non-alcoholic. Pity.
He looked over the room and saw a liquor cabinet on the far wall. He was pretty sure it was locked. He went over and tried the handle and the door swung open effortlessly.
Inside, he saw a fully stocked supply of expensive looking liquor… Maker's Mark, Jack Daniels, Crown Royal...and more.
Score! He pulled the Jack Daniels bottle, pulled the cap off and took a big sniff. The heavenly aroma activated something deep inside him, a craving, an anticipation of satisfying that craving. He went to put the bottle to his lips and take a deep tug of the whiskey. And couldn't. What? He put the bottle up to his lips again. He couldn't bring himself to drink. What the hell?!
A familiar voice came from behind him that had been haunting him all day.
"You can't do it. Can you?" It was Victor, his lawyer. He had been a sarcastic thorn in Luke's side the whole six-hour trip up and he was getting tired of it.
Busted. Luke looked nervously over his shoulder at Victor and then longingly at the bottle. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and put it back.
"Hey, I don't need a drink. I can stop…"
"...whenever you want, right? Listen to yourself, you're an addict cliche, did you know that?" Victor interrupted.
"You've been up my ass all day, asshole! You need to back off!" Luke shouted. His patience was finally shattered.
"So. I've been rough on you, huh? Fine. I brought you a little present. Something you really want. The same thing that put you in the hospital in the first place…" Victor threw a syringe down on the table in front of him. Luke's eyes went wide with surprise as his mouth went dry and his body started to shake. The glint of light from the metal needle caught Luke's undivided attention. He felt his body shake with great anticipation.
"Where...where did you get that?" He couldn't take his eyes off the syringe.
"Does it matter? Go ahead. Mr. Edmunds. Shoot up. My treat."
"Don't think I won't, pal. Money doesn't mean that much to me! My dad's got money and it didn't do anything good for him!"
Luke went over and picked the syringe up and looked at it intensely. He felt the craving deep within his soul, the answer to it, was right in his very hands. His body, a trembling mass of craving that wasn't sexual in nature, but something more oppressive, dark and irresistible. Luke stood frozen in place, unable to move.
"Go ahead, Mr. Edmunds. No one here is going to stop you. There's plenty of spoons here on the table. Here, I have some rubber tubing for you." Visitor tossed the tubing on the table also. Luke started sweating and pulling at his tie as if it were constricting, suffocating him.
Luke stood there like it was an eternity, shivering and sweating. With a shaky hand he slammed the syringe down on the table so hard it shattered, spilling its contents all over the table.
"This is some kind of scam! Isn't it?" Luke screamed. "You want my money! You lawyers are all the same! Money this! Money that!"
"Wrong again, Mr. Edmunds." Victor retorted. "This whole scene was to prove a point!"
"What? You're a psycho! What man offers a guy a fix after he gets clean!" Luke wanted to bite his tongue, realizing what he just said.
Victor paused. The silence cut the air. His eyes softened and revealed a look of pity.
"As long as you wear the suit, you can no longer get high or drunk. It won't let you."
Luke stood there and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on! What the hell is with the games! The suit! The suit! What's with you and this suit!"
"It's not about me. It's about you and what you're wearing. Once you put on the suit, you can't take it off, ever. Not while you're still alive."
"Shut up! You're a nut case. Is this, like Punk'd or something? Where's the camera?"
"I'm afraid I'm being very serious and I hope you come to take this serious too.. I don't know why your uncle picked you to wear the suit, but over the years I've learned to trust his judgment."
"Yo, this is total bullshit! This is some kind of scam, and I can prove it! I'm done with you, and I'm done with this suit!" Luke started pulling on his tie like a hung man gasping for air. He started struggling with it, his hands pulling on the Windsorwindsor knot Maurice had tied.
"What did you people do! Super glue this shit!" After a futile struggle, the tie remained in place, Luke's frustrations grew.
"I understand you're going to need time to adjust, you won't believe this but we are all trying to help you."
"Help me! You're trying to drive me insane! With me in the nuthouse, I'll be out of the way and you can help yourselves to my inheritance! Is that it?"
"No, Mr. Edmunds. Luke...your money is useless to us." Luke started laughing hysterically like he was already driven insane. The look in his eyes was of hurt and desperation.
"I can offer you some small relief for your addiction. The suit will let you have this one small compromise." Victor produced a pack of cigarettes and a light and set them down on the table.
Luke snatched them up immediately and headed for the doorway.
"Where are you going?"
"I need some fresh air, pal." Luke answered, fumbling with the pack as he left.
"Stay close to the house, Mr. Edmunds. It's not wise to go into the woods here at night. Better you stay inside."
"Save it, weirdo." Luke replied as went to find a door to leave.
