Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood. Lucky Winston was living proof. An alcoholic father addicted to heroin and a mother who slept in every man’s bed but her own husband’s. He came out of the womb breathing pain and heartache.
Life never gave him anything without a scar to remember it by. He fought daily just for the right to breathe.
That all changed in the summer of ’74 when he became a Lowlife. A member of a brotherhood that was respected and feared in their small town. He now belonged to something bigger than himself, he had a family that looked out for him. That loved him.
“Hey, Lucky, get the fuck over here and check out this sunset,” Tink yelled from the bed of blue pickup.
Tink was Lucky’s closest friend in the gang. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear they were brothers. They were tall, muscular built men, both sporting the same long hair that sat just above their shoulders, only difference being Tink’s was dark, just a shade below black and Lucky’s was dirty blonde. The difference came in handy when trying to tell them apart from behind since they could both be found wearing a fresh white T-shirt and Levi’s on any given day. In fact, all the guys in the Lowlife’s wore it like it was a uniform.
The Levi’s separated them from the Mexicans who wore Chino’s. For the most part they all got along around town. Shit, they figured they were all basically the same aside from their skin color. Living on the poor side of the tracks, fighting for their freedom, stealing for their basic needs and being looked down on from the rest of society.
They had the motorcycles, the Mexican’s had the lowriders but they always had each other’s backs.
Lucky walked to the back of the truck and watched the sun fade down below the hills while Tink passed him a joint and they watched in silence until the last bit of gold faded.
“Sunsets really are a trip, man. It’s like for a few minutes you’re almost promised that everything’s washed away, ya know. Like tomorrow’s really gonna be different.”
Tink reached over and snatched the joint out from between Lucky’s fingers.
“Gimmie that thing man, you’re too fuckin high already, talking like a goddamn hippie and shit.”
Lucky shook his head and cleared his throat.
“Yeah, no shit, let’s get outta here and head back to town and see what happening tonight. Didn’t Roach get home from the pen today?”
“If so, it’s gonna be a good fucking night, man. A good fucking night. Let’s go check out the deal.”
Tink’s smile was spread across his face with a twist of evil like it sometimes did when he knew he was going to get in to some shit. Despite looking like blood brothers, they were complete opposites. It was probably what made them such good friends, they balanced each other. Lucky was more quiet while he observed his surroundings and Tink liked to be the center of attention, usually for doing something crazy as fuck.
When they got back in to town, the word on the street at Foxy’s Liquor Store was that Roach was back and having a homecoming party tonight, aka, a reason to get fucked up on everything he hasn’t been able to touch the last six months. So Lucky and Tink each grabbed a pack of smokes and case of Olypmia beer and headed over to Roach’s pad.
Lucky prayed that Roach’s sister would be there, he’s had a thing for Bunny since she was just plain old Veronica in elementary school. When real feelings started to ride through him for her in high school, she was always linked up with one boyfriend or another but he heard rumors she was now single and he was hoping alcohol might play matchmaker tonight.
Usually hooking up with club member’s sister would be off limits but Roach was only concerned with himself, he could gave a shit who she dated, he always said it was her business who she opened her legs for, not his. Besides Bunny was a tough chick, she held her own and didn’t need her brother dictating or protecting any aspects of her life.
As they made their way around the party giving respects to the brothers and looks to the ladies, the night passed faster than Lucky would have hoped and no sign of Bunny. Eventually Tink ended up riding someone’s Harley through the backyard and in to the living room causing all the girls to come running out in fear of an early suffocating death. Tink only found it funnier when people reacted, so he slammed a beer on his forehead and chugged it down screaming “Lowlifes for life.”
The crowd cheered him on as usual and Lucky sat back in a lawn chair laughing at his best friend.
“He never quits does he?”
He inhaled her before he looked up to see her long tan legs standing next to him. She smelled like gardenias and it almost intoxicated him more than the beer in his hand.
He kept it cool. He couldn’t lose his reputable image over a broad. Even her.
“He’s just showin’ off. Think he does it for the girls.”
“Well, I’m more for the strong and silent type myself.”
With a flash of her beautiful smile and her long black hair swinging over her shoulder, she walked away.
Lucky watched her walk over to some guys on the patio, and one of the shot callers of the neighborhood, Oso, placed his arm over her shoulder. She was property of the Latin Angels. They may have all shared the streets peacefully around their neighborhood, but they did not fucking share property.
Lucky’s gut almost swallowed his heart at the realization. He didn’t know her, but he wanted to. He fucking wanted to so badly.