Tommy Donovan leads a simple life. He works his shift at the country club, hangs out with his friends, and smokes enough weed to put down a small elephant. He’s got a problem, however: his mother is selling their house and wants him to join the Marines. When Tommy decides to expand his nickel and dime high school pot operation into a sprawling distribution network, he will encounter vicious drug dealers and sociopathic real estate kingpins, all the while stumbling ass backwards into money, love, and maybe even a little bit of growth.
Well, money and love, anyway.
“One for good luck” is a stoner comedy, a police procedural, and neo-noir crime story reminiscent of the works of Elmore Leonard and Carl Hiassen. It’s got bad people doing bad things, sharp dialogue, and its tongue planted firmly in cheek.
Tommy Donovan leads a simple life. He works his shift at the country club, hangs out with his friends, and smokes enough weed to put down a small elephant. He’s got a problem, however: his mother is selling their house and wants him to join the Marines. When Tommy decides to expand his nickel and dime high school pot operation into a sprawling distribution network, he will encounter vicious drug dealers and sociopathic real estate kingpins, all the while stumbling ass backwards into money, love, and maybe even a little bit of growth.
Well, money and love, anyway.
“One for good luck” is a stoner comedy, a police procedural, and neo-noir crime story reminiscent of the works of Elmore Leonard and Carl Hiassen. It’s got bad people doing bad things, sharp dialogue, and its tongue planted firmly in cheek.
CHAPTER 1
It was graduation day, and Tommy Donovan was smoking his last joint as a high school student. It was 7AM, and as was his habit, the first one of the day. Breakfast was the most important meal, after all, and what could be better than blazing up a doobie to increase his appetite? At 5’8” and 130 pounds he could stand to put on some weight. He could stand to grow a few inches too, but there wasn’t enough ganja in the world for that.
He had already showered and dressed. The desk chair was still next to the window where he had his last smoke the previous night. No need for his mother to catch a whiff, and then hear the commentary about how he was poisoning himself, and the next thing you know you’ll be shooting heroin, and I’ll get a call that you’re dead in an alley. That is, if she were home and awake. There was a good chance neither of those were likely. This morning was an exception. She was home, awake, and sober. A rare trifecta. Unfortunately, he forgot to open the window.
“What’s wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you? Next thing you know….” Shirley yelled from downstairs.
Shirley. Who names their kid Shirley? Tommy thought. He wouldn’t know. Both of her parents had passed away before he was born. Shirley Goldstein. They didn’t even share a name. He was named for a father, Thomas Donovan Sr., who disappeared long before Tom had a memory of him.
Tommy cut her off. “I know Ma, I know. If it’s so bad, how come it’s legal in every other state in the country, like Denver?”
As if she were one to talk. A suspended license, two wrecked cars, and numerous dents to her current beater of a vehicle invalidated her right to criticize him for substance abuse.
Tommy walked downstairs.
“Mom, you don’t have to yell. It’s no big deal.” He walked past her. She sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, a half-filled ashtray in front of her, and a cigarette between her yellowed fingers. Her tirade stopped while she took a long drag.
Tommy looked through his glassy eyes into the pantry. Cereal? Nah. Oatmeal? Ugh. Who eats that crap? He settled on a package that contained two cupcakes, moved to the coffee maker and filled a cup halfway, then topped it off with milk. There was a small container next to the coffee maker filled with packets of sugar. Tommy stirred three into his cup. How much longer is she going to carry on?
“It is a big deal. Maybe not now, but how are you going to get a job? A good job, where you can get benefits and a pension. A job where you can support yourself. I’m not going to be around forever to take care of you. You think you won’t have to take a drug test for a job like that? Your job in the pizzeria? You think you’ll be able to support yourself with that?”
Like she gives a crap. The pizzeria job was long in his past. He never told her. Selling weed to his classmates put spending money in his pocket and a stash in his dresser drawer. Unfortunately though, Shirley did have a point. Most of his classmates were going off to college, and some of the rest into the service. There weren’t going to be enough buyers, and no school to use as a storefront.
“I can’t get a job without a car, and I can’t buy a car until I make some money. Maybe you could lend me a few bucks to get one? I could probably pick up something decent for maybe 10,000. You can help me out with that, right?” Tommy knew his mother had some money, but getting a buck out of her wasn’t easy. She made Scrooge look like a spendthrift.
“It sounds like you smoked something too strong. You ever hear of Uber?”
“Okay. Okay. Why are you giving me attitude? I’ll figure it out.” What a fucking bitch.
“Figure it out fast. I’ve got a plan, you know. Now that you’re out of school I want to move out of here, maybe to Arizona or Florida. Maybe meet someone there while I still have my youth and good looks.”
“Good idea, mom.” Finally she’ll be out of my face. “Maybe I’ll do something in real estate. It did okay for that guy Goldstein.”
“Oh sure, you can try that. You can put an ad on the side of a bus- I’m Tommy Donovan, the biggest pothead in Garden City. Let me sell your house. Come on, get real.”
“I gotta start somewhere.” The fog in his head started to lift. Oh, and I’ve got an idea where I’m going to start.
Her plan was simple. Shirley was still a few years away from forty and to older, retired widowers she could be the likeness of Scarlett Johansson, except for her not-so-petite size and plain looks. It worked out well for her once before with Goldstein, former husband number one. She ended up with an apartment building in Brooklyn that had generously supported her since. Mr. Goldstein got the better of the deal. His life sentence with Shirley was commuted after two years. Four subsequent husbands yielded nothing. In fact, the last one cost her a late-model pickup truck. His father was smarter than the others. Donovan the senior and Tommy’s mother never married.
Tommy finished the first cupcake in three large, quick bites. Some plan. His mother tried marriage four times and got one hit. A baseball player goes one-for-five and he’s on the bench. The only difference now was that her sights were much lower. Instead of an apartment building, Shirley would settle for dinner out and a night on the town.
With his stash running low and buyers soon disappearing, he was going to have to do something. Maybe he could get an apartment in Brooklyn? Maybe he could own his own building? Maybe he would get his the old fashioned way: he could inherit one.
Centered around main character Tommy Donovan Jr., One for Good Luck is an easy read with simple, and occasionally laugh out loud, dialogue and narration. Tommy isn't what anyone would call intelligent, but he is nice, handsome and also extremely lucky.
A recent high school graduate with no real prospects to speak of, he ends up getting a job at the local country club. This job allows him to expand his former high school pot slinging into a full-fledged operation for one main reason- rich folks love drugs. Suddenly Tommy is Mr. Popularity at the country club and rubbing elbows with the crème de la crème of local society. This lucrative growth in the weed business is what propels him into wealth, but also introduces him to some dirty drug dealers, one insane real estate agent and puts him on the cops' radar. What ensues are some interesting hijinks, including several where you want to shake Tommy for his pure ignorance at well, life as a whole.
Parallel to Tommy's adventures, his mom Shirley is trying to shake up her life and move to Florida. Insert Duke, her sort of friend and love interest, who also owns a restaurant and bar that Tommy's new girlfriend manages. Also there's the two stereotypically crass cops investigating a murdered drug dealer, and finally sociopathic and gorgeous Patti, a real estate broker and drug dealer and murderess.
While I appreciated the tongue-in-cheek edge that Pory employs throughout, I felt that some portions were really unnecessary to the overall story. Sure, Shirley's character arc kind of helps explain Tommy's motivations and lack of intelligence, I felt that she was just used to fill some space between chapters. There were other instances of this happening, where some scenarios didn't really propel the story forward. Additionally, the last sentence was definitely a twist, but I almost found it to be too much on top of the other craziness that became Tommy's life.
Overall, this was certainly worth the read and recommended as a light and fun way to break up the more dense books on your to-read list!