There's a moment when the sun disappears, when darkness falls, and you're left
with just your fears. That's the moment you feel your first pang of doubt.
That's the moment when the night comes out. When the night comes out
presents luck Man. You are about to meet a man named Harvey Luckman.
Yes, his last name is Luckman, known for bringing well, amazing luck
to everyone around him. However, there's a secret he carries with him,
a secret from which he is running for his life, the kind of luck
that only comes when the night comes out. So here's the deal. I
don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to get the introduction out
of the way. My name is Harvey Harvey Luckman. Yeah, yeah,
I know it's a weird last name, lived with it all my life.
The honest truth is that my life is even stranger than my last name.
See, I'm a lucky guy. Wait before you shrug inside and throw up
your hands and walk away, let me explain further. I've always been a
lucky guy to have around. My friends were always winning baseball games with impossible
plays or last minute walk off home runs. If my friends were playing games
and I was nearby, they'd win. I have always brought luck to those
around me, So why am I not hugely rich? Why do I have
a shitty job and a small house in the middle of nowhere? Why do
I spend my time away from other people as much as possible. The hitch
in this weird genetic quirk is that I bring tremendous luck to people around me,
but never to myself. In fact, whenever I bring good luck to
someone else, an equal amount of bad luck has to happen to me.
The universe wants a balance, and that's how this works. You see.
Yeah, I know it's shitty. Want to hear the next shitty part.
I have no control over it. The good luck just happens, and then
the bad happens to me. Most of the time. I get a weird
tingly sensation when it's happening, but it seems to happen, and whether I
wanted to or not. What a pisser, huh. I Remember when I
was thirteen, there was this stupid contest at school. You could win a
new bike if you guessed the closest number to this jar filled with marbles.
The damn jar sat at the entrance to the school, and no one knocked
the damn thing over. Somehow, My best friend Stevie wanted that bike so
badly he spent days trying to come up with numbers to guess. The day
before the contest was to end, I patted him on the back and told
him to write down the first number that came to his head. He did.
The next day, they revealed he was off by only four marbles.
That night, on the way home from school, feeling happy for my friend,
I ran over a nail. My front tire popped, hit a curb.
I flew over the handlebars and landed on my legs so hard it cracked.
Then a truck came by and ran over my bike, mangling it.
I helped Stevie win a bike, but dramatically lost my own. I spent
weeks in a cast. Stevie rode by on his sparkly new bike almost every
day while I healed. It hurt and took weeks, and it removed a
sizable part of my summer vacation while I recovered. Of course, at the
time, I did not know this was a power or an ability. It
just seemed like a random coincidence, and it was bad for me, oh,
well go on. However, before too long my reputation grew. It
was my mom who first tried to take advantage of me. I don't know
how she heard about the rumors of me being a good luck charm, but
one night she asked me to come with her to bingo night. This had
never happened before, and I was all of about ten years old. The
last place I wanted to be on a Friday night was the local church basement.
While older ladies played the game. She leaned in her marker in hand
at least a dozen cards spread out in front of her, and whispered,
could you let a bit of luck rub off on me? Harf? I
just smiled and said yes, even though I had no idea how to go
about doing that. Like I said, I didn't have any control over it.
I just wanted my mom to do well well. She won that night,
I mean she won big. It seemed every round she was the first
one to stand up and say bingo, so much so the rest of the
group started casting angry stares at her. Soon after the last round, the
others at the Bingo night gathered around our table. My mom yelled at them
for being sore losers while they hurled accusations of cheating at both of us.
Even though these were mostly ladies and their sixties or older, I was getting
scared. My mom pushed through the crowd, got her big cash prize and
some of the other things we won, and we high tailed it out of
air, peeling out of the parking lot onto the road. Once there,
still driving too fast and high on her winds, we were t boned at
a four way stop. My mom blew right through. Of course, the
oncoming car hit my side, caved in the door, and sent me sideways
before the entire car went spinning around like a crazy top. I was hurt
pretty bad. I broke my leg again. Mom was fine, but much
of the prize money went to medical bills and getting the car fixed. It
was Mom who first proposed the idea that maybe I was blessed and cursed at
the same time. I could bring luck but had to receive all the bad.
Did that stop her from wanting to keep winning at bingo and all the
other gambling she could get to. No way. She just kept the winning
to a minimum, leaving early from other bingo games and drove home safe.
She sat up my room with padding on the walls, and did everything she
could to guard me from harm. I still would slip in the bathroom,
trip going down the stairs, or stuck my foot into the legs of the
coffee table and break a couple of toes. So my mom and I basically
ended up on some kind of twisted gambling slash bingo circuit. Since I couldn't
really control how much she won, most of the time we could only visit
the casinos or the bingo halls maybe once or twice. Then, of course,
there were the repercussions. My mother could not very well take me to
an emergency room. They all had rules about abused kids, and I was
so covered with cuts, bruises and badly healed broken limbs. There was no
way to explain it away as childhood clumsiness. Plus, what was she going
to tell them? Oh, yeah, I was touring various casinos and gambling
establishments with my preteen son. My mom and dad made a lot of money.
We also won cars, trips and other big deal things, so we
always had the latest technology such as TVs, game consoles, computers, et
cetera. As for me, if my parents gave me part of the winnings,
I'd end up mugged, or a kid at school would push me down
and take it. They would win and I would lose. Balance. Balance
sucks. I hate balance to the point where I hate scales and teeter totters.
Do you have any idea of how hard it was to not have a
goal in life? I mean, I was good at building things with my
hands. It was the one time I felt in control of things with my
eyes closed. I could take a part in appliance or electronics and put them
back together. I was also good at inventing things, improving our old TV,
so the reception was perfect. This was back when he still had rabbit
ears or an antenna on the roof kiddos, five years before it was a
thing everyone had. I figured out a version of Wi Fi. The problem
was I couldn't be around people or try to make money with the inventions.
If I showed the new and improved versions of whatever I'd been working on,
it would be stolen and someone else would become rich. If I worked in
an office, the entire company would rock it to success. Well. I
lost my car, house, clothes, and sanity. I was eventually pulled
out of school I learned at home. I began doing repairs for people and
made sure to just keep the devices running, not advancing them. I made
a living before I was college age, and when my parents got older and
passed, I inherited the money. Somehow most of the money stayed. Perhaps
the universe figured losing my parents to get it was not good luck. You'd
have to ask the universe about that, because there was no explanation given to
me. If you do talk to the universe, give me the number,
because I have a few choice words. I made sure not to get involved
in investing the money. I left it to the broker. He had success,
and it trickled to me. I kept things level, I told the
broker I wanted to be the safest and most boring client he had. As
long as I did not try to level up, everything went well. As
long as I kept to myself as much as possible, things were good.
Was I lonely, Yeah? Sure I was? But what could I do?
As I got older my abilities grew. I didn't even need to be
near the person to infect them with luck. I just had to think about
it. So no sports teams to root for, not for me. Once
I wished one of my favorite actors would win an award. He did,
but the next day I fell through the floor of my house down to the
first floor and fractured my femur again. Spent months with a cast up to
my goddamn hip. Ever fractured your femur before. It's not nice. I've
done it six times. I keep quiet. I don't wish people well.
With practice, you can learn not to have hope for people. Sound sad,
I know, but I only have two femurs. I am here living
my lonely, insignificant life, just trying not to break any more bones or
have random meteors crash on my head. When the de Mille family moves in
across the street, well, I live in the middle of nowhere, so
the term street is a bit of hyperbole. It's a big front lawn,
then a small black top road, and then another vast lawn, and then
a small farmhouse. I saw them move in, but tried hard not to
wish them well. They seemed nice, but I didn't want to get involved.
Then one morning, I'm out in my shed working on a lawnmower and
trying to mind my business when I hear something behind me. I turn around,
and there's this adorable little toe girl holding a stuffed dog and smiling at
me. Well hello, I said, trying hard not to instantly adore this
cutie. Can I help you? My name's Angela. We just moved in
across the street. What you doing? I couldn't help but smile. It
was that smile that got me where I am right now. I think if
I had just shut the shed door and been the mean neighbor, maybe none
of this would have happened. I'm fixing a lawnmower, I replied, Hey,
do your mom and dad know you're over here? She ignored the question
and stood on her tiptoes to try and see the lawnmower. Did you break
it? Well? No, I run a business. I fix things for
people. Someone else broke it, and I'm fixing it. This caused her
eyes to light up, as if I had just produced a live rabbit out
of my shirt. Wow, can you fix anything? I shrugged? If
it has electronic senate? Probably Just then I heard a woman's voice calling for
Angela. Think that's your mom. Let me help you back across the street.
The little girl just grabbed hold of my hand like it was the most
natural thing in the world. I worried that this was too much contact.
Was I infecting her with luck? What about her mom? It didn't matter.
Of course, I am terrified of the world, but I'm not a
monster. I was going to help a little kid get back to her home
and her parents. Although the country road was not always busy, when traffic
came, it was usually as trucks and cars speeding across the asphalt. She
wouldn't have stood a chance. Hi there, I said, trying on my
best smile. Once I had crossed the road. Like the proverbial chicken,
I believe this one belongs to you. The young woman as blond as the
girl, looking like an older version of Angela, smiled and looked relieved,
Then with relief over with she appeared slightly mortified. I am so sorry,
Angela. I told you not to cross that road by yourself. Angela smiled,
looked down at her shoes, but then winked at me. Sorry,
mommy, I'm so sorry about that. I know you have work to do.
They told us you keep to yourself and run a repair business. Over
there, she wanders, I'm so sorry. I held up my hands.
Nothing to worry about, No harm done. Just make sure, a little
lady, you do not cross the road like that. Cars and trucks come
down there really fast, and they'll never see a little squirt like you in
the road. Angela smiled sheepishly. My name is Jessica, Jessica de mil
Yes to my friends. She extended a hand. A dangerous thing happened.
Then something I had been fighting by being isolated as much and for as long
as possible happened. I felt warm and fuzzy toward another per The cute girl
and the pretty lady made it impossible for me to stop it. I extended
my own hand. Harvey, Harvey Luckman. Jess gave me the traditional cock
eyed look upon hearing my name. Yes, that's my real name. I
was trying to come up with a reason to make my exit as quickly as
possible. I already knew the warm and fuzzies were triggering the luck powers.
If I liked someone, it was out of my hands. Good luck would
flow from me into them, and the bad would come down hard on my
head. Jess was faster than me. I was rusty, to say the
least. You have to come over for dinner tonight. Meet my husband Daniel.
She knew I lived alone, she knew I had a business of my
own. Thus I was the boss and made my own hours. How could
I say no? I had no excuse other than being a jerk, and
I did not want to be a jerk to this woman and her little girl.
Uh what time? And there you go? You get where this is
headed. That night, the de Mille family had me over and just told
me she had found a ring from her mother she thought was lost forever.
That night I lost my TV remote and I never found it again. Small,
but it gave me a sick feeling inside. It was like the power
had been asleep but was now waking up. Start with a little thing,
then really kick into gear. I had a sumptuous dinner. We laughed a
lot. The husband, Daniel, was also a great guy. He was
a pilot. It turned out mostly he did short flights from a local municipal
airport. He transported business executives from one place to another, working for a
charter airline. He had started with a business partner. He had loved flying
from the time he was a kid, so this was his dream. He
got to be home every night and spend his days in the sky more danger
a risky job, and I I liked the guy and his family. I
could almost feel the look inside me boiling up. That night, Daniel got
a huge paid gig. For the next day, a client he and his
business partner had been pursuing for months signed. On the next day, two
of my biggest paying clients died in an apartment fire. Yeah, the luck
thing can be a real bitch. It'll slap me, but outright punch someone
else in the dick to ensure my slap hurts. I did my best to
remain quiet and keep to myself. However, little Angela was always waving to
me and always wanting to come over. I tried to ignore her, I
swear to you, I tried to leave her be and pretend the family wasn't
even there. In the end, how could I resist? Soon I was
helping her come across the street and she would watch me work. She'd ask
me a billion questions, and I did my best to keep her entertained.
She seemed quite interested in what I was working on, so I would show
her. Then Dan would come over at night beers in hand. Most of
the time we'd sit on my back porch and look up at the stars.
He told me about his youthful desire to be an astronaut, how he had
dreamed of rocket ships to Mars. He also told me about his dream of
building his own airplane. He had thoughts and plans for a new jet design,
and dreams of finally putting them into action. He spoke glowingly of these
ideas. I felt that sinking feeling again. I liked the guy. I
was a frightened man who had lived a terrified life. But there had been
a time when I had dreams too, maybe not to visit other planets,
but dreams. Nonetheless, I knew I'd put some luck into him. I
would infect him like a virus. Something would happen, and his plane designs
would come to life. He'd change aviation with luck that big I feared what
would befall me. To my surprise, nothing happened. I mean, I
was expecting a tornado to hit my house or a random meteor to just fall
on my shed. But nope. In fact, I got two new business
clients who were more lucrative than the two who had died. Shit. I
was not about to dance on their graves. But if this was the price,
I was for it. Sure enough, Daniel got a huge windfall.
The big clients came rolling in and they had to expand the charter plane service.
They hired two new pilots, and he could pull back his hours work
on his own plane designs, but also still managed the company freakishly. Good
things kept happening, of course, because I had infected the Demel family with
luck. Random relatives they never knew they had died and left them huge amounts
of money. Just could not buy a losing scratch off lottery ticket. A
stock investment they made decades ago on a startup SUD paid off. When the
startup became huge. They cashed out half their stock and saved a huge bundle.
The entire time, I kept waiting to lose all of my business.
I waited to have the bank for clothes, or for a goddamn truck to
just run me down in my own driveway. It did not happen. We
had glorious weather. The skies were clear, got enough rain to avoid a
drought. The summer got warm, but not too hot. Yeah, to
be honest, I dared hope things were better for me. Maybe the power
just wore off, I thought, or maybe whatever piece of crap part of
the universe had seen fit to give me the stupid ability had finally relented,
give me a break. You know, would I be telling you this story
if that were the case, Would I still be talking? Nope? The
universe was just as cruel as always, perhaps more so. You see,
that's the truth of it all. When you stare at yourself in the mirror
every morning, you think you've got things figured out, even if you have
a fucked up ability like mine, you get used to things. In the
trenches of World War One, soldiers adapted to dead men by making them part
of the trench wall. They slept in puddles of water up to their knees.
I had a friend growing up who lived right next door to a major
airport, and you just got used to the planes taking off and landing.
I had just gotten used to the bad luck kidding me. I expected it.
I did my best to plan for it, even though I never knew
what would happen. I built my life around this, and when it was
suddenly gone, I had almost no idea what to do with myself. And
it went on for a year, Yeah, an entire year, just enough
time for me to become comfortable, just enough time for me to think it
was over, just enough time for me to let my guard down. One
year later, after becoming all my most a part of their family, Daniel
had his plane built and was ready to fly. Yeah, it was a
big fucking deal. Like the press was there and they were taking pictures and
shit, feel me. The first flight was a colossal success. The plane
was some hybrid thing using electricity and a lot less fuel. Don't ask me.
I can fix things as long as the things are like lawnmowers. I
don't do planes or claim to understand aerodynamics. The plane continued to fly,
and there were orders for the fancy new engine or whatever. I kept my
head down, kept doing repairs and tried my best to keep working on the
things I needed to work on. My customer base was growing. It was
great, of course. It ended almost a year to the day Daniel announced
he and his family a were going to fly off to California for a week.
To my surprise, they asked me to go. Shocked, I also
felt a shock of pure terror run right through me. It started with me
checking the calendar. Sure enough, a year, just three hundred and sixty
five days of happiness, with no broken bones or major hospital stays, just
twelve months of achieving success and some form of contentment. So of course the
universe was going to take that away from me. It was here when I
needed to decide. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that
something was going to go horribly wrong on this flight. If I didn't go,
it would happen and the luck would not occur. If I went,
I knew there would be an extremely unlikely piece of luck, but it would
also come back against me. And if the luck would prevent injury or death
for the Demils, well I think you can guess what this was going to
mean for me. I sat there a stupid smile on my face when Daniel
asked me to go with In my mind, I weighed the options. Then
I thought of their little girl. I thought about Jess and how I had
become such a part of their family. I'd love to go. I told
them there it was. I knew then I was in trouble. What would
you do? I did my best to put my affairs in order. I
had no family and the only friends were the Demil family, so they got
whatever money I had. Should I die, Angela would have a trust fund
so she could go to college or do whatever she wanted with it. I'm
not telling you this so that you feel sorry for me. I'm not looking
for an oh you poor soul. Nor am I looking for your pat on
the back or some Nobel peace prize either. I am no hero. If
you think even for a second, I didn't spend days thinking about how to
get out of this, you are sorely mistaken. I tried to think of
a way to save my myself while also saving the family. I mean,
I thought about sneaking into the airport or hangar to sabotage the planes so it
just couldn't take off. But I was hardly a member of the Mission Impossible
team. I had never broken into my own home, let alone a secured
location. I thought about trying to sabotage the ded mills themselves. Maybe I
could start a small fire, damage their car. Yeah, but there was
too much risk to hurting them. You know. What it came down to
was that the only way I could ensure the good luck would infect them in
a way which would ensure they all survived was to go with them. Because
I had seen with my own eyes how the universe worked, my luck power,
impossible things happened. It was not outside the realm of possibility that a
giant hand would just come out and grab the aircraft out of the air and
set it down on the ground. The same hand would then squish me like
a bug. I was just res I don't know for sure how someone with
a fatal illness feels when all the options run out, but I hope they
reached the level I did. I was scared, don't get me wrong,
but I was also at peace. I figured I could do at least one
good thing before I checked out. So the day came, I laughed and
joked with the family. I entertained Angela with my impersonations of animals and cartoon
characters. We had a blast all the way to the airport. I was
calm. We got there, all piled out of the car, got to
the plane. I saw them loading some luggage. The plane itself was gorgeous,
sleek, almost like a mini concord. The engines looked so small.
It amazed me what Daniel had built. I was dazzled by the business he
had built too. The plane rumbled down the runway. The sun was bright
above us. The endless expanse of blue ooh was like a personal invitation from
God. I did my best to absorb it, take it in. It
was hard because Angelo wanted to play Peek a boo. The earth fell away
beneath us. I watched it go, with everything getting smaller and smaller,
and that magical way flying in a plane does, like standing above a model
train. Set up and up. We leveled off just above twenty thousand feet.
Clouds fitted beneath us like cotton. It wasn't long after that before things
went wrong. The right engine made a noise you never want to hear from
a plane engine. Then smoke steamed from the wing. The entire plane shuddered.
I saw the fear cross both Jess and Angela's face. Then, just
as I was about to speak, the engine on the left did the same
as its twin. The entire cabin shuddered once more. Then it was eerily
quiet. Jess and Angela screamed and cried. They talked over each other so
fast I couldn't make out any sound. Daniel did not come out of the
cockpit, and I knew he was going to try to go down with his
plane. I couldn't let that happen. I closed my eyes, took a
deep breath. Open that closet door. I pointed, my eyes still closed.
What Jess replied, Open the door quick. Now I could already feel
the plane gliding, but heading down fast. Dimly through the cockpit door,
I could hear Daniel calling out his Mai days and trying to figure out how
to save a hopeless situation. Why there's just our coats in there. It
was true. We had opened the closet earlier and put away some things,
mostly it was towels. I knew there was nothing in there to save us
when we got on, but now the luck infection was a full effect.
Just do it, please quick. Jess opened the door and what appeared to
be several parachutes fell out onto the floor. She gasped, these were not
in there, before she stared at me. I smiled, I know.
Put that one on. Still in shock, Jess put on the parachute.
I helped her get it secured, just somehow, knowing how to do it.
Sure enough, there was a series of buckles and harnesses to allow Angela
to be strapped to her mother. I don't even know if such parachutes exist,
but when the world was bending to the luck virus, it didn't matter.
I picked Angela up, kissed the end of her nose, and strapped
her in. I can't leave without Daniel, Jess said, her eyes wide
and appearing at shock. Angela had stopped crying too, Her eyes were wide.
I think they felt this power, this energy, the fact reality itself
was bending over backwards to change coming from me. I oh no, I
replied. The plane was still descending. This was okay. I thought if
they jumped too high they would suffocate. We had to get lower. I
walked to the cockpit. Daniel was in there, frantically trying to restart his
burned out engines. Even the radio was no longer working. Daniel, he
turned his head and I saw tears streaming down his face. What have I
done, he asked. I held up the parachute. What is that?
He asked, The confusion cutting through the fear. Put it on your family's
waiting for you. Daniel stood up from the controls. Out the window,
the ground was getting larger and closer. The plane was remarkably stable, though
gliding in a way that would only happen if you were a man who infected
reality with luck. I suppose I don't understand, Daniel said, but he
took the parachute. I helped him strap it on. I know you don't,
but you and your family will be fine. I let Daniel back out,
open the door, and the wind cut through the cabin. It slapped
me in the face, and I saw fear in their eyes again. Just
jump, I said, the shoots will open automatically. I was dictating the
reality. I thought this was my last hurrah. I knew it. All
the luck within me was flowing out into this family, into the plane.
Without a ligne to attach to, there was no reasonable way for the shoots
to open automatically. These were not experienced skydivers, though, so the shoots
needed to open on their own. The family was terrifying. I was too,
and despite this, they moved to the door. I could see a
mountain range now, all of it coming too fast. Just as Angela came
first, eyes wide shaken. What about you, Jess asked, don't worry
about me. I put a hand on Angela's cheek. I smiled at her
and she smiled back. Then I pushed them out the door. I heard
Jess yell as they flew away from the plane. As soon as they were
clear, a shuote unfurled above them. Lucky, impossible look. Daniel came
next. Tears were drying on his cheeks. I don't understand. I don't
understand any of this. Go go now. I pushed him too. I
watched from the open door as his chute opened and he fell away. I
turned back toward the cabin. To my surprise, there was another parachute on
the floor. I smiled, A crooked grin slipped it on. I jumped,
and of course my chute didn't open instantly. When I pulled the rip
chord, a flap opened and clothing flew out of it like a bug's bunny
cartoon to laugh. The plane crashed into the mountain a moment later. So
here I am falling through the sky. I'm too far away from the de
mills to see if they landed safe. But they had the luck. You
know, I'm sure they made it. You know, it's kind of a
relief. It's hard to face yourself every day. I know the only way
to make it to the next day is to not help people. The ground
is coming up fast. I think I see trees the sad life of a
man with an ironic last name, a life of fear and pain, then
of isolation and selfishness, finally ending on a note of hope and perhaps salvation,
the kind of ending you can only find when the Night Comes Out.
You've been listening to When the Night Comes Out, a weekly horror anthology podcast
with stories by Brian w Alaspa and narrated and produced by Ali James, music
by Vivekabishek. For Brian's work, visit his website at Brian w Alaspa dot
com or visit Amazon dot com for his books of fiction and nonfiction. For
Ali's work, find her on Facebook at Ali James Projects. Don't forget to
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