"Sounds alright to me," said Jimmy. "OK!"
The man pulled a small drawer out and sorted through some trinkets, and then he gave Jimmy a fluffy thing, like a rabbit's foot. It had a small chain with a clasp attached.
"You put that on," said the man, "and see if your luck doesn't change!"
"Thanks!" said Jimmy.
We waved to the man as we left.
"First bit of luck I've had in my whole life!" said Jimmy, patting the charm.
"It might be covered in germs," I said.
"Lucky germs!" smiled Jimmy.
We came to the traffic lights. They changed to "Walk" just as we stepped up to them. It was precisely good timing.
"See that!" said Jimmy. "Perfect!"
I was beginning to wonder if Jimmy's luck really had changed. Usually the lights changed to "Don't Walk" when we got to them.
We came towards some shops.
"I wish I had some money," said Jimmy. "I could really do with an ice cream."
As he said the words, money came floating down out of the sky. It landed at Jimmy's feet and he picked it up, staring at it in wonder. He turned it over and over.
"Fifty bucks!" he said.
We both had the biggest ice creams the shop could make. Mine had four different flavors. Jimmy's had chocolate all over it. We walked along, slurping and licking and dripping ice cream.
"This is cool!" said Jimmy. He had different colors all round his mouth and down the front of his shirt.
I grinned at him.
But I was wondering. What if it was possible to have too much good luck? Dad used to say that nothing worthwhile was easy, that it was better to work for what you wanted. If everything came from the sky, he told me, there'd be no point to life. We'd turn into cabbages. Or couch potatoes. Lazy vegetables, anyway.