The Lottery

by D. K. Wall

  Driving around with no destination in mind was even less attractive, not to mention a waste of gas money, a luxury he didn’t have especially with a looming divorce. They lived paycheck to paycheck, any savings they ever built up raided to pay an unexpected medical bill or buy clothes for the ever-growing boy.

  Life would be great if he won that lottery and he never had to worry about paying a doctor or dentist again. They’d be able to eat in restaurants anytime they wanted, able to buy clothes for Jacob without shopping at the Goodwill or consignment stores.

  But he couldn’t even find that out because his ticket was jammed in his coat pocket in a home he wasn’t allowed to enter. Just another thing he would have to wait for—Danny bringing his clothes.

  Maybe Abe knew who’d bought the winning ticket. Maybe he would break out in a huge grin at the sight of Nathan walking through the door, applauding his luck as Martha hugged him and cried tears of joy.

  Or at least Abe might tell him about a lucky neighbor or even truck driver.

  One way to find out. Swinging by the market didn’t break his restraining order or his promise to Danny.

  His decision made, Nathan stopped strumming his fingers on the steering wheel and turned the ignition.

  He hadn’t seen Abe’s Market that busy in years. Cars were scattered about the lot, parked at angles and blocking the ancient gasoline pumps, not that it mattered because no one was fueling. People he had never seen wandered through the glass doors.

  He eased his truck around the bumpers of parked vehicles until he located the only vacant spot, the same beside-the-road space as he’d been in the day before. He exited the truck and couldn’t help but glance at the ground, hoping to repeat yesterday’s find, but no wad of cash rewarded his search. He spied only discarded cigarette butts among the overgrown weeds.

  After navigating around the cars parked helter-skelter, he entered the store and nodded toward Abe. The older man’s newspaper remained folded on the counter, not even opened for the morning yet. A line seven people deep stood in front of the register. None held groceries or snacks in their hands, just cash, as Abe busily rang up sales and printed lottery tickets.

  Martha greeted him with a wave from the back of the store. She stood behind the counter of the deli, wiping the counters down with a rag. Unlike the crush of business up front, only the same four old men sat around the table sipping their coffee. With Abe unavailable for a quick chat, Nathan cut through the aisles and greeted Martha.

  “Need me to make you a sandwich, Nathan?”

  “No, thanks. I’m having lunch over at Sammy’s in a bit.”

  “Honey, my sandwiches taste better, and you know it. And my sweet tea is much healthier for you than Sammy’s beers,” Martha teased with a grin.

  “Yes, ma’am, they are, but I promised Danny I would meet him there.”

  Martha’s smile faltered at the mention of her son, but she quickly recovered. “Make sure he doesn’t get started too early on the beer. And let him know I would be glad to feed you boys here anytime.”

  “I will. I promise. Doesn’t matter about the beer because I’m only drinking iced tea. I’m headed to the park for Jacob’s game this afternoon.”

  The plan slipped from his mouth before he even realized he had been thinking it. Because of the restraining order, he knew he couldn’t sit with the rest of the parents and cheer the team, but he could watch the game from the Point. He figured that was far enough away to meet the conditions of the restraining order but still close enough to see his son. Of course, he would be far enough way that no one would smell beer on his breath either, but he still would stick with tea.

  “Best of luck to Jacob today.” Martha’s smile broadened, and her eyes twinkled. “Such a nice young man and getting strong. Not sure if Donna told you, but he carried crates of flowers from my house last week.”

  This from the same boy who couldn’t remember to pick up his clothes off the floor. “She didn’t tell me. Glad he helped.”

  “We were chatting while she was getting groceries. I said I needed to restock the flower racks. Jacob just piped up and said he would help me carry them. Neither one of us had to ask him. His dad sure is teaching him right, just like his dad taught him.” Her face beamed with pride. “You know I always saw your dad in you. And now I see you in Jacob, so it’s just like your dad is still around.”

  Nathan flushed. “Thank you. I try to raise him right.”

  “You’re doing a great job.”

  Pride swelled inside him, but so did the ache of not having seen or talked to his son since the morning before. He diverted the conversation back to what he wanted to know. “I heard you sold the winning lottery ticket. Is that true?”

  Martha rolled her eyes and waved her hand in dismissal. “Yes, we sold the big winner. At first, we didn’t know if it was true or not, but then the TV station from down in Asheville called and said they had confirmation. They did a live report this morning from right here in the store about it. Cameras and lights and that pretty young reporter interviewing Abe. You should have seen him strutting around like he had something to do with picking those numbers himself.” She gestured at the crowd waiting at the register. “The weird thing is that these people are buying lottery tickets, and most of them aren’t even from here. They think if we sold it once, we have to sell another winner. Doesn’t matter we have been selling them for a decade and never had a winner paying more than a hundred bucks.”

  “If lightning strikes twice, you’ll really be popular.” After they both laughed, Nathan asked the question he’d come to pose. “Do you know who bought it?”

  “No. We didn’t even know we had sold it at all, and we have no way of knowing which ticket it was. Maybe Raleigh could tell us what time it was sold, but even then, it would be a guess, especially since we don’t have cameras to even go back and see who was here when. Guess we will find out just like everyone else.” She glanced toward the front of the store and shook her head. “But then you know my silly husband will be swearing he knew the ticket was the winner when he printed it.”

  “At least it means someone local won it, right?”

  “I would think so, just because mostly locals buy from us, but not necessarily. A couple of truckers and some salesmen peddling their wares over at the plants stopped before getting back on the road. Could have been one of them, I guess. At breakfast this morning, he listed off everyone he remembered buying tickets.” Martha’s eyes widened. “Hey, he said you bought one. Maybe you won.”

  “Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Nathan laughed, implying he knew he hadn’t won rather than admitting that he hadn’t checked, because then he would have to explain why he didn’t have the ticket. He was there to get information, not to tell his story, so he shifted the conversation again. “Ronnie says one of his won seven bucks. That was his big winner.”

  “Good for Ronnie.” Martha reached out and grasped Nathan’s arm. “I wish you had won it. That would be great for Donna and Jacob. That kid could go anywhere to college, then. He so deserves it.”

  “Maybe he’ll get a baseball scholarship.”

  “I wish you had gotten to go to college. Your dad would have been so proud to see that.” She busied herself behind the counter, cleaning in case anyone came back to order lunch, not that the lottery seekers in the front of the store looked as though they were going to spend cash on anything of value. “You seemed to have so much bad luck. Losing your mom. Then your dad. That wreck. Even Donna getting pregnant, though that boy sure is a blessing.”

  Nathan pressed his lips together. “I had better luck than some. Better than Charlie. And Danny.”

  Martha flinched at the second mention of her son.

  “Besides, college was always a long shot. And once we found out Donna was pregnant…”

  She reached out and patted his hand. “All Danny thought about was the Marines. I figured he and Hank would do that, but I always hoped you and Charlie would do something different. Both of y
ou got good grades.”

  He smiled at the memory. “Shoot, Martha, we got good grades because neither one of us dared take anything lower than a B home to Ronnie.”

  “Like a certain C in eleventh-grade history?” Martha’s eyes twinkled at the memory.

  “Oh, yes. I split two cords of firewood for that C. Ronnie just handed me the axe and pointed.”

  “And grounded you until the next report card, if I remember right. That sure cut into your dating life.”

  “I was so mad at him then. I couldn’t believe he did that right after my dad died because I figured that was an excuse for everything.”

  “You don’t know this, but Ronnie and I talked about that a lot.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. He was so scared he was being too harsh. He felt so bad, knowing how alone and scared you were after losing your dad. He wanted to just hold you and tell you he understood the C. But he also knew your life wouldn’t get easier as an orphan. He thought the state would take you and put you in a foster home if they had even the slightest reason to. He didn’t want you to hate him, but he didn’t want you to play victim either.”

  “I hated him for about ten minutes, but then I forgot it all as I swung that axe.” Nathan stared out the window, lost in memories as he mumbled, “He always seemed to understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  He shook his head as the memories flooded back into his mind. “I was mad at the world. Everything seemed so unfair. And Ronnie was determined not to let me wallow in pity.”

  “Losing your dad was unfair. No kid deserves to be an orphan.”

  “No, but Ronnie taught me bad luck happens. What you do about it? That’s what matters.” A faint smile crossed his face. “Do you know what he said when I told him Donna was pregnant?”

  “What?”

  “I was ranting about how unfair it all was. How could she be pregnant and ruin all my plans? Typical thinking-only-of-me bull.” He shook his head at the shame of the memory. “He came up into my face and asked me if I got her pregnant. I gulped and said yes. His nose was almost touching mine when he asked what I planned to do about it. That’s what he always asked when I complained about something being unfair. So what? Now what are you going to do about it?”

  “And look at you now. Beautiful Donna and an awesome kid in Jacob. Couldn’t be better, huh?”

  Nathan looked down at the floor, studying the cracks in the linoleum—anything to avoid mentioning Donna. “He’s the best.”

  Martha cocked her head, a look of puzzlement crossing her face. He felt her gaze on him and didn’t want to look her in the eyes.

  She asked, “How did the flowers and candy go over yesterday? And you getting home early? Was she thrilled?”

  “Her reaction was, uh, unbelievable. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Desperate to change the subject—and feeling guilty for lying by not telling her everything—he asked, “You get a check for selling the winning ticket, don’t you?”

  She hesitated with a look that said she didn’t want to leave her questions alone, but she relented. “Yeah, we do. Bigwigs from Raleigh are driving over next week to take pictures and give us the check. I think they direct deposit the actual money. The presentation is just one of those big fake cardboard checks and smiles. Abe will be so happy in front of the cameras.”

  “That’s terrific. You going to retire on it?”

  “Oh, honey, I wish. It’s good money, more money than we make off this place in a year, and we are thankful, but it’s not like we can close up the store.” Martha gestured at Abe, who was busy running the cash register and holding court with new customers who had never heard his old stories. “Besides, I think Abe enjoys hanging out in here and talking too much. If he retired, he would have to find a store just like this so he could feel at home.”

  She turned back to Nathan and smiled. “It gives me a place to do my flowers and stuff too. Same thing I would do if retired—gardening and finding somewhere to peddle my blooms.” A wistful look slid over her face. “We sure don’t want to retire down to Florida or something even if we could afford it. God’s waiting room—sitting around and waiting to die. This is home.”

  “Running the store doesn’t sound too bad, then.”

  Martha laughed in her good-natured way. “Maybe we are retired and just don’t know it. We sure don’t run this place to get rich.”

  They watched Abe take money and print out lottery tickets. Every time the door opened for someone to exit, another person came in and joined the line. “They really think you will sell a second winner?”

  Her head nodded slowly in wonder. “Sadly, yes. Everyone wants to get rich quick. I just hope someone nice won it. Take care of others. Do nice things. Like you would. And you would treat Donna like a queen.” Martha turned to look at Nathan and was shocked to see tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh, honey, what is it? Something wrong with Donna? Jacob?”

  Nathan tilted his head back and sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t hide the truth from her anymore. “You won’t believe me, Martha.”

  Martha guided him back to an empty booth in the corner, well away from the four gabbing men. “I will always believe you, Nathan. Now what’s wrong?”

  “It’s a long story,” Nathan replied and told her everything about the day before.

  Martha’s warm hands wrapped around his, holding them as he slumped in the seat, exhausted from telling the tale. Her eyes brimmed with tears throughout his story, and one ran down her right cheek. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “You sound just like Ronnie. ‘Life screwed you, so, what are you going to do about it?’ I can hear him now.” He smiled weakly and shrugged. “I guess the first thing is to find somewhere to stay. Danny’s offered his couch, and Ronnie said I could move back into my old room.”

  He turned and looked out the store window. Another car was turning in from the main road to join the crowd of fortune seekers. “I want to be with Jacob as much as possible, so I’ll work as many hours as I can so I can get a decent place. Hal offered me weekend work with the truck stop, and that will help.”

  Martha tsked and shook her head. “If you work all those hours, how are you going to spend time with Jacob?”

  “That’s what Donna asked yesterday morning when I told her about the offer, but what else can I do? Ronnie can’t give me overtime or a raise.”

  “Come open this garage like I been begging you to for years.”

  Nathan chuckled, a hollow sound since nothing felt funny at the moment. “It’s like y’all are conspiring on me. Donna said the same thing yesterday morning. Danny and I talked about it this morning. Even Ronnie said I should take another job if I found something.”

  “So do it.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money to open a business.”

  “What would you need money for? You have your own tools. And Abe’s got his old tools sitting in there, gathering dust. Open the place up.”

  He looked down at his hands, noticing again the absence of the wedding band. “It’s not like my old truck and the cars Abe used to work on. Modern cars have all these computers on board, and you need fancy diagnostic equipment.”

  “With the check we are getting from the state, we can help you update whatever you need and make sure everything is ready.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Nathan, honey, you could pay us over time. We would figure the details out.”

  He shook his head firmly. “I couldn’t borrow money from you. Besides, I would have to buy the business from you, and I really can’t afford that.”

  “Get off your proud horse and listen. That garage is just an empty, worthless building to us right now, so anything you pay us is more money than we are already making off it.” She gripped his hand in her own and stared into his eyes. “We work out a deal where you fix cars and pay us some rent or something. We put that rent toward you owning the building someday. It’s a win-win.”

  N
athan’s head swirled as he stuttered, “Not sure Abe would go for it.”

  She laughed, a musical echo off the walls. “Oh, honey, are you kidding? You think I talked to you about it without Abe knowing? He’s wanted you to do it for years. Just a few weeks ago, he brought it up again when you fixed the freezer for him. It reminded him of how good you are at repairing things. He always said you were a natural mechanic when you hung out in the garage during high school.”

  Nathan barely remembered the freezer repair. He had walked in to pay for some gas, and Abe was hurrying to empty it of ice cream that was melting. He was trying to pack it in an already-full freezer, scared he would lose hundreds in inventory. Nathan grabbed his tools out of his truck and had it running in thirty minutes. It kept running until some spare parts arrived a few days later, parts that Nathan also installed.

  “That was nothing,” Nathan said. “Repairing it was easy.”

  “To you, yes. That’s what you do. Fix things. You do it all the time. Randy Fletcher brags you fixed his tractor last fall for harvest. And he says it runs better than the Deere guys have ever had it running. Norma Caldwell can’t stop talking about how you helped her when her car broke down up on Spring Street. Not only got it running but better than it had in years. I’ve heard dozens of stories like that.”

  “But helping a neighbor is different from asking people to pay me to fix stuff.”

  “You think they didn’t pay you? Randy’s wife sent you canned vegetables to last all winter. She could have sold them down at the farmer’s market for a few hundred dollars. Norma cuts Jacob’s hair for free. Abe funded Jacob’s Little League uniforms. Every one of them still thinks they got a bargain. They gladly paid you.” Martha’s eyes twinkled as a smile spread across her face. “Besides, you fixing their cars without ripping them off—that would help people. People around here can’t afford new cars every time they turn around, and they sure can’t afford to pay the crazy repair prices of those dealerships.”

  Nathan sat back in the booth and stared at the ceiling fan slowing turning over his head. He couldn’t understand why everyone else thought he could run a business but he didn’t believe it. To daydream was one thing. To talk in generalities with Ronnie or plan with Danny was a little unsettling. But to have such a specific conversation with someone who could make it happen was petrifying.