When Luck Goes Missing

Rabbit’s feet. Horseshoes. Four-leaf clovers. Pennies. These are your common, run of the mill lucky charms. Mine was a five-foot, 80-year-old woman by the name of Estelle. She was a common sight at the craps table and a lover of 80s heavy metal. She was also my grandmother.

It might seem odd to have a person as your good luck charm. I don’t think it’s any weirder than walking around with a dead rabbit’s foot in your pocket, though. It first became clear that she was my charm during elementary school.  

She made a point of coming to as many of my soccer games as she could. It did not take long for me to notice a pattern. Every game where she dotted the stands, we won. I would be unstoppable. Perfect passes, amazing assists, and even the occasional goel. 

However, when she was absent. It was like I was a completely different player. I would stumble and trip. I would miss the net by an embarrassing margin. The entire game would be off. After a while, I would plead with her to come to every game. 

As the years went by, my evidence only grew. When she would drop me off for school, I would ace my exam that day. She would take me grocery shopping and we would be the millionth customer and win a brand new bumblebee yellow Raleigh bike. She would fill my Christmas stocking with scratch off lottery tickets and each one would be a winner.

I felt like the luckiest person in the world. Until one week ago. The parking garage I parked my car in during a trip to the city burnt down. The next day, I received a jury summons. And that weekend my apartment flooded. 

It was no coincidence this started after she disappeared. It’s been a little over one week since I last saw her. Now I’m standing outside her favorite casino. I took a few deep breaths before I headed in to find some answers. 

The cops suggested sundowning. They said she probably just wandered off. “This happens all the time,” they said. I wasn’t impressed with their sympathy. Worry grew inside my chest until it physically hurt. 

I stepped through the revolving doors, and the air-conditioned air kissed my face. I wove my way through noisy slot machines and tables with clouds of smoke floating above until I found the craps table. 

A half hour passed before the dealer went on break. I stepped into his path.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Can I ask you a quick question?”

He gave me a look that only someone being interrupted on their lunch break could give.

“I’m sorry, but this is very important.” I held up a picture of her on my phone. “This is Estelle. She’s a regular here and she’s missing.” His annoyance went down a notch. “Could you look and let me know if you’ve seen her recently?”

He took the phone from my hand and brought it closer to his pimple filled face. “Yeah, I know her,” he said and handed the phone back.

“Do you remember the last time you saw her?”

“I’ve been on vacation for a few weeks. I’d ask Henry. He’s always here.”

“Who’s Henry?” He pointed to the dealer, who had relieved him and walked off without another word.

Not wanting to interrupt Henry during his shift, I parked myself in front of a slot machine where I could still see his table. I slowly slid coins into the machine while I waited. Of course, I lost all my money I put in. 

Finally, Henry was stepping away from the table. I approached him and went through the same speech as I had with the younger dealer before him.

He also recognized her. “Oh yeah. I know Estelle.”

“When was she last here?” I asked.

He scratched his head. “I think it was last week.”

“Last week?! Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. She was in here with some other old lady– older lady.”

“Did you happen to see who she left with?”

“No sorry. When my shift was over, she was still playing. I told the cops the same thing. They haven’t found her yet?”

“No.” I took the phone back and stared down at her photo. The cops were still looking for her and I know they know what they’re doing. Yet, I couldn’t just sit at home not doing anything. After a week without answers, I went looking for them. “Thanks for talking with me.”

“Sure thing,” he said before walking off. 

It was promising that she was seen a week ago, but I didn’t know who she was with. I had already talked with all of her friends and none of them had seen her in the last week either. I had been telling her for years that she needed a cell phone. She had refused. Said she did not want the government knowing what she was up to. 

I stepped out of the casino and back into the heat of the day. Sweat immediately started dripping down my face. Without a car I had to take the bus, and I made the walk back to the bus stop. 

It felt like I would need a bit of luck if I was going to find her. How could that happen when what I’m trying to find brings me luck?

She used to always tell me, “Luck is just a poor man’s hard work.” So that was what I was going to do. Put my head down and get to work. I glanced at my phone and the time read 11:11. I tapped the numbers and made a wish. Maybe a brief attempt at luck wouldn’t hurt. 

The bus was ten minutes late and the only open seat was next to a man who smelled as if he hadn’t showered in a week. I pulled out my phone while trying to hold my breath. Tears were threatening my eyes as I looked down at a photo of the two of us.

“Hey, I know her,” the man beside me said.

“What? You do?!” I asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, one of the ladies from Golden Girls. So cool that you got to meet her.”

I faked a smile and he went back to the video game he was playing on his phone. I turned my gaze to the window. After two stops, I exited the bus and made the short walk to her favorite bookstore. They had not seen her in weeks. 

Next, I went to her favorite second hand store and her favorite deli. I walked away from each being no closer to knowing where she was. It was raining, and I had forgotten to bring an umbrella. 

The bus stop was at least sheltered, and I ducked under and took a seat on the bench. Someone had left their newspaper, so I picked it up and flipped through it while I waited for the bus. It was a two week old paper, but it was something to pass the time.

On the fifth page was an advertisement that took up half the page. It read Hairband Bender: Cruise to Your Favorite 80s Metal. I read the details. It was a week-long cruise with 80s cover bands. It left port six days ago and was returning tomorrow at noon. 

Something in my gut told me she was on this boat. When the bus arrived, I decided I wouldn’t take any more stops and headed directly home. It felt like my search was up. Now I just needed to wait. 

The following day, I stood in the harbor near where the boat would be docking. I arrived an hour early and paced the entire time. 

Finally, I could see a ship in the distance. It felt like hours before it finally docked and people were filling the exit ramp. I held my breath. There were several older ladies, but none were my grandmother. Just as I was telling myself this was a stupid idea, I spotted two older ladies walking arm and arm down the ramp. 

The grip that had been holding my chest tight for the past week disappeared completely at that moment. I ran to her and pulled her into a hug. 

“Oh hi darling,” she said.

“Grandma, I’ve been so worried about you.” 

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“What happened and why didn’t you call? This is why you need a cell phone.” 

“We were at the craps table and this man named George won big. He bought the whole table tickets for this cruise. We had all had a few drinks, so it sounded like a great idea.” They both giggled. “I was going to call the next day, but no one has service out at sea.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

It wasn’t my lucky charm I cared about losing. I cared about losing her, and I was grateful to have her back. I hugged her again before we started walking away from the ship and they began telling me about the cruise. 

“You’ve got something stuck to your shoe,” she told me before continuing to tell me about the attractive drummer from the night before. 

I stopped and leaned down to pick up what I figured would be a stream of toilet paper. Instead, it was a fifty-dollar bill. I guess it’s not so bad having my lucky charm back, either.