Lucky Karma
Lucky Karma
Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah.
Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray.
I've been kissed by a rose on the gray.
Sam used to say being kissed by Holly was like being kissed by a rose.
“Jaggy and painful?” she had asked, eyebrows raised, the first time he said it.
“So beautiful, it hurts,” he had replied and the butterflies in her stomach popped open the champagne and started to party.
It’s this moment she’s thinking about as she eats her oatmeal at Camp Barneo, just sixty miles from the North Pole, wishing Sam were here with her. Listening to this song, she feels that, in a way, he can be, even though he never will. They may have been skydiving before, but skydiving at the North Pole is something else. It’s pretty crazy really - so it would’ve been right up Sam’s street!
She remembers the time she went with him to catch a Komodo Dragon for his zoo. She hid in the bushes, away from its claws, watching him. He said it would be a piece of cake since they were solitary animals, but he was lucky not to have become lunch! The animal had stood on its hind legs, using its tail as a support in what Holly was sure was a move to snap at his throat. Sam’s eyes had filled with wonder rather than fear, surprising Holly even more as she crouched shell-shocked in the bushes. When he finally caught it, he named her after Holly, who once again found that she wasn’t sure whether she should feel honoured or insulted.
It was always like that with Sam - crazy. Whether she was skydiving with him, watching him catching dragons or being complimented, it was always something out of the ordinary. A man like Sam, you’d expect him to die in some insane way, not doing something as undramatic as painting the gutters. It was a doorstep that finished him. He hit his head on the way down. The doctors say he would have died instantly. Somehow it was little comfort to Holly.
The song ends and she hears a crowd cheering behind her. Never able to contain her curiosity, she turns around, pulling her earphones out of her ears. A group of strangely well-dressed people are crowded around the entrance to the mess tent. Standing up for a better look, she sees a couple who have obviously just gotten married, enter. She smiles. It’s exactly the kind of place her and Sam would have gotten married. Somewhere out of the ordinary.
Not wanting to be reminded of Sam any more, she puts her many layers back on so she can leave the tent and head back to the lodgings to retrieve her skydiving kit. She squeezes through the crowd, now in a loud chorus of “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow”, and accidentally catches the bride’s eye. Holly flashes her the cheeriest smile she can muster, but in her haste to leave she doesn’t notice the horseshoe hanging in the doorway and whacks her head hard enough to make her dizzy. In her disorientation, she stumbles over her own feet and falls backwards, hitting her head on the table.
“I thought those things were supposed to be lucky,” is her last thought before everything goes black.
Once she’s woken and her eyes have refocused, she realises she’s in the first aid room. Suddenly sitting bolt upright, startling the doctor and earning herself another bout of dizziness, she asks, “What time is it? I’m supposed to be going skydiving at one.”
“Not after suffering a blow like that, you’re not,” the doctor replies, gently pushing her back down on the bed.
“But-”
“Not buts,” he says sternly. “And anyway, it’s ten past.”
Holly lets her head flop back down onto the pillow. It’s karma, she thinks, I should never have asked Sam to do anything as mundane as paint the gutters.
“You’re lucky not to have suffered a concussion,” the doctor says, then begins talking about lack of amnesia, but Holly stops listening. Lucky karma; there’s something. She wonders how lucky she’ll be during the next two bad things karma is yet to dish out. But if she’s learnt anything today, it’s that luck can swing round and hit you in the head.
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah.
Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray.
I've been kissed by a rose on the gray.
Sam used to say being kissed by Holly was like being kissed by a rose.
“Jaggy and painful?” she had asked, eyebrows raised, the first time he said it.
“So beautiful, it hurts,” he had replied and the butterflies in her stomach popped open the champagne and started to party.
It’s this moment she’s thinking about as she eats her oatmeal at Camp Barneo, just sixty miles from the North Pole, wishing Sam were here with her. Listening to this song, she feels that, in a way, he can be, even though he never will. They may have been skydiving before, but skydiving at the North Pole is something else. It’s pretty crazy really - so it would’ve been right up Sam’s street!
She remembers the time she went with him to catch a Komodo Dragon for his zoo. She hid in the bushes, away from its claws, watching him. He said it would be a piece of cake since they were solitary animals, but he was lucky not to have become lunch! The animal had stood on its hind legs, using its tail as a support in what Holly was sure was a move to snap at his throat. Sam’s eyes had filled with wonder rather than fear, surprising Holly even more as she crouched shell-shocked in the bushes. When he finally caught it, he named her after Holly, who once again found that she wasn’t sure whether she should feel honoured or insulted.
It was always like that with Sam - crazy. Whether she was skydiving with him, watching him catching dragons or being complimented, it was always something out of the ordinary. A man like Sam, you’d expect him to die in some insane way, not doing something as undramatic as painting the gutters. It was a doorstep that finished him. He hit his head on the way down. The doctors say he would have died instantly. Somehow it was little comfort to Holly.
The song ends and she hears a crowd cheering behind her. Never able to contain her curiosity, she turns around, pulling her earphones out of her ears. A group of strangely well-dressed people are crowded around the entrance to the mess tent. Standing up for a better look, she sees a couple who have obviously just gotten married, enter. She smiles. It’s exactly the kind of place her and Sam would have gotten married. Somewhere out of the ordinary.
Not wanting to be reminded of Sam any more, she puts her many layers back on so she can leave the tent and head back to the lodgings to retrieve her skydiving kit. She squeezes through the crowd, now in a loud chorus of “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow”, and accidentally catches the bride’s eye. Holly flashes her the cheeriest smile she can muster, but in her haste to leave she doesn’t notice the horseshoe hanging in the doorway and whacks her head hard enough to make her dizzy. In her disorientation, she stumbles over her own feet and falls backwards, hitting her head on the table.
“I thought those things were supposed to be lucky,” is her last thought before everything goes black.
Once she’s woken and her eyes have refocused, she realises she’s in the first aid room. Suddenly sitting bolt upright, startling the doctor and earning herself another bout of dizziness, she asks, “What time is it? I’m supposed to be going skydiving at one.”
“Not after suffering a blow like that, you’re not,” the doctor replies, gently pushing her back down on the bed.
“But-”
“Not buts,” he says sternly. “And anyway, it’s ten past.”
Holly lets her head flop back down onto the pillow. It’s karma, she thinks, I should never have asked Sam to do anything as mundane as paint the gutters.
“You’re lucky not to have suffered a concussion,” the doctor says, then begins talking about lack of amnesia, but Holly stops listening. Lucky karma; there’s something. She wonders how lucky she’ll be during the next two bad things karma is yet to dish out. But if she’s learnt anything today, it’s that luck can swing round and hit you in the head.