Jackpot
Page 13
“Wait!” howled Griffin in anguish. He wasn’t going to make it —
In desperation, Melissa whipped her smartphone out of her pocket and slid it along the sidewalk. The device skittered across the concrete and slipped inside the steel frame just as the heavy door came around.
The case dented; the screen cracked. But the door remained open a few inches.
It was all the time Griffin needed. He burst into the lottery office at 5:59:58, October 6, two seconds to expiration.
Wordlessly, Griffin slapped the ticket into the clerk’s hand.
At first, she seemed irritated to be bothered so close to closing time. “Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”
“No!” Griffin croaked. The long elaborate story formed in his brain, but he was so physically and mentally exhausted that he could only point to the slip and rasp, “Check it out.”
She noticed the date first, and then the numbers. “This is it! This is the one! Why would you delay so long? Another few seconds and I would have locked you out!”
Griffin could only shake his head. He didn’t have the strength for this explanation, either. As she registered the ticket in the Giga-Millions machine, the small office began to fill up. First came Victor, the team, and Darren, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. They were followed by Mr. Fielder, Mike, and the bookmobile librarian. Bringing up the rear was Mr. Bing. As he held the door open, Luthor and Penelope slipped inside. They curled up in a corner in perfect harmony and watched the humans go through their paces.
Mr. Bing sidled up to his son. “Griffin, what’s going on?”
Griffin pointed to Mr. Fielder. “That guy is the missing thirty-million-dollar winner. We found the ticket for him.” He shrugged out of the SweetPick. “Oh, yeah, and I field-tested your invention. Darren helped.”
“I saw that,” his father chortled. “Those Brazilians are going to be eating out of my hand.”
Nobody made a move to unwrap Darren.
The clerk spoke up. “Who is the owner of the ticket?”
Mr. Fielder stepped forward. “That would be me.”
Darren began to jump up and down. “It’s mine! I’m trying to raise my hand, but they tied me up when they stole the ticket from me!”
The clerk frowned at him. “No one under eighteen can play the lottery.”
“I’m small for my age!”
“He’s annoying for his age,” Pitch explained.
“He’s annoying for any age,” the clerk agreed. She addressed Mr. Fielder. “Sir, my advice to you is to call a lawyer, because you just became a very wealthy man. Congratulations.”
Wild cheering erupted in the office. Griffin knew a thrill that had nothing to do with money. Operation Jackpot — the most incredible long shot of anything he’d ever attempted — had succeeded. It was almost as unlikely as winning the lottery itself, and every bit as satisfying.
“I don’t need a lawyer,” Mr. Fielder replied. “I’m extremely well organized.”
It got a laughing cheer from the Cedarville crew and an exasperated rolling of eyes from the bookmobile librarian.
“Yeah, get a lawyer!” pleaded Darren. “My mom’s a lawyer! Hire her!”
“Your mother’s a patent lawyer, Darren,” Mr. Bing reminded him.
“That’s how good she is,” Darren insisted. “She even gets patents for the dumb stuff you invent!”
“Give it up, Vader,” groaned Ben, stroking Ferret Face beneath his T-shirt. “You’re just trying to cut yourself in for a piece of the action.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Darren challenged. “We all deserve a cut of the money. If it weren’t for us, that ticket would be stuck in a macramé book worth zero!”
“And don’t forget the fund to create a national monument at Woodstock,” Mike chimed in. “Nothing could be a worthier cause than that.”
“Hold on! Hold on!” Mr. Fielder held up both hands. “It seems to me you folks have a lot of opinions on how to spend my jackpot. This isn’t my first lottery win, you know. I’m wise to all the vultures who start circling as soon as there’s a little cash to be had. Well, I’ve already made up my mind where the bulk of this money is going.”
An expectant silence fell in the lottery office. Even Luthor and Penelope sat up at attention, sensing that something important was coming. Ferret Face peered out of Ben’s collar. What was Mr. Fielder planning to do with thirty million dollars?
“Ever since my retirement, these wonderful people have kept my mind engaged and have provided a second home,” announced the man in the macramé cap. “They’re like family to me. That’s why I’m planning to make a large donation to the Green Hollow Public Library.”
The stunned silence in the lottery office was broken by a gasp from the bookmobile lady as she collapsed into the arms of Mr. Bing and fainted dead away.
On October 7, the Green Hollow Public Library officially forgave Mr. Tobias Fielder $2,274.75 in overdue fines. It was the least they could do. Thanks to his huge donation, the library was planning a major expansion. The staff also removed the DO NOT LEND TO THIS MAN signs, featuring his picture, from the checkout desks and — reluctantly — his personal dartboard from the break room.
“For that kind of money, he can steal any book he pleases, with our blessing,” the chief librarian announced off the record.
Mr. Fielder was famous. The newspapers called him The Luckiest Man in America, and he was interviewed on all the TV networks about his second lottery win. Appearing on CNN in his trademark macramé cap, the big winner shrugged off questions about why he waited until the last second to claim his prize.
“I’m extremely organized,” he assured the interviewer. “I knew exactly what I was doing.”
He made no mention of the eight kids who had moved heaven and earth to track down his missing ticket against all odds. But that didn’t mean the group from Cedarville was unappreciated. The team, Victor, and even Darren received generous donations to their college funds out of the Giga-Millions jackpot.
Darren’s disappointment was bitter. “College fund!” he spat. “That ungrateful weirdo wouldn’t have thirty cents if it weren’t for me! And what do I get? Money I can’t touch unless I spend it on extra school! It’s enough to make a guy hurl!”
“You’re lucky you got anything more than a kick in the pants after what you did,” Pitch informed him.
Another large beneficiary of the lottery win was Mike’s favorite cause — a national monument at Woodstock. “If society has to be obsessed with the almighty dollar,” the hippie storekeeper commented, “then you might as well spend it commemorating something cool.” The donation from Mr. Fielder put the monument fund over the top. There were no immediate plans to begin construction, though, since the volunteers were too laid back to think so far ahead.
There were also a few minor charges that Mr. Fielder was only too happy to make good on. A new smartphone was purchased for Melissa. Of all the miracles she had performed with technology, the greatest had turned out to be using her old phone to keep the lottery office door from closing.
Also two auto repairs: one station wagon — rear bumper; one bookmobile — front bumper.
Mr. Fielder kept a chunk of his winnings for “the necessities of life,” which might have meant buying a bigger house so he could fill it with more stuff. He was also planning a major financial investment. He had made a deal with Mr. Bing to become a silent partner in the SweetPick business. He had no interest in sugarcane but believed that the device could be used in the harvesting of hemp, which would provide him with an endless supply of yarn for macramé.
None of this would have been possible if the SweetPick hadn’t finally received its patent approval. Amateur video of the U-Bundle mechanism taking down Darren had put the trademark panel in such a good mood that the invention passed with flying colors. No one could be certain how the YouTube link had reached the patent office, but Melissa had been able to trace the e-mail to the computer in Mrs. Vader’s law office.
“Well, what do you know?” Griffin commented. “Darren’s mom really is a good lawyer.”
* * *
Ferret Face was munching on his breakfast pepperoni when Ben turned up at Griffin’s house the next morning.
“How’s the big guy?” Ben asked.
“Pretty good,” Griffin replied. “You know what? I think he understands what’s happening today, and he’s psyched.” He handed Ben an enormous bag of dry dog food. “Can you carry that?”
“Can anybody?” Ben disappeared behind the towering package. “Don’t even think about it,” he told Ferret Face, who came out to investigate the good smell. “This isn’t for you. It isn’t for fifty of you.”
Griffin clipped Luthor onto his leash, and the three started off, Ben straining under the kibble, and Griffin struggling with a gigantic sack filled with favorite pillows, blankets, dog toys, and Milk-Bones.
By the time they reached Honeybee Street, it took the combined strength of the two of them to keep Luthor from dragging them down the sidewalk, bouncing them off mailboxes and fire hydrants.
“Wow,” Ben commented in a strained voice. “I guess it’s a pretty big deal making up with your best friend — even if you’re a dog.”
“Best friends don’t have to make up. They may take breaks, but they’ve always got it going on.” Griffin peered intently at the smaller boy. “Right?”
“Right.” The massive bag of dog food concealed Ben’s broad smile.
Every tree and fence post at the Drysdale house was decorated with balloons and yellow ribbons. A banner across the porch declared: WELCOME HOME, LUTHOR. The Doberman couldn’t read, obviously. Yet there was no question in his mind that all this fuss had something to do with him.
Then the front door was thrown open and there she was, his adored Savannah, her face alight with joy. The whole team was on hand, including Victor, to witness this homecoming. He saw Cleopatra, and his new friend, Penelope. Even Lorenzo, the albino chameleon, who didn’t get out much, had left the terrarium to greet him.
Quivering with excitement, Luthor eased back on his haunches, ready to launch himself at his loved ones. All at once, he hesitated, as if sensing that there was something that needed to be done first. He turned back to Griffin, sat down, and offered one paw.
Griffin held out his hand and the two shook, almost like two businessmen finalizing a deal. Then the big dog gave in to his impulses and flung himself into Savannah’s arms, bowling out the welcoming committee in the doorway.
“Oh-sweetie-I-missed-you-so-much-I’m-so-glad-you’re-back-where-you-belong … !”
There was a party, of course, featuring cupcakes for the humans and Luthor’s favorite snack — Swedish meatballs.
“I heard on the news,” Logan announced, “that they’re thinking of making a TV movie based on Mr. Fielder’s two lottery wins. I’m definitely trying out for the part.”
Pitch laughed. “Have you noticed that he’s a little older than you? Like fifty years?”
Logan shrugged. “With some makeup and a macramé hat, I could pass for him in front of his own mother.”
Savannah gestured to where a stuffed and contented Luthor lay flat on his back, Penelope curled up by his ear. “Look at them,” she cooed, dreamy with happiness. “Who could have imagined that those two would end up getting along so well?”
Griffin turned to Victor. “Speaking of getting along, I owe you a big apology. I’ve been down on you ever since you came to Cedarville, and I’m sorry. I never gave you a chance.”
Victor shook his head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I was wrong about you being a bully. Darren was a jerk about that, but I should have had the brains to make up my own mind. The way you stood up for Ben at the frat house — you’re the total opposite of a bully.”
Savannah was still focused on Penelope, who crawled onto Luthor’s belly and fell contentedly asleep again. “Tell your dad’s allergist not to hurry,” she said to Victor. “As far as I’m concerned, Penelope can stay here forever.”
Victor flushed red as a tomato. “I have kind of a confession to make about that. My father doesn’t have allergies.”
Ben was mystified. “So why did your cat have to come live with Savannah?”
“Well” — Victor was shamefaced — “she isn’t exactly my cat, either.”
Melissa parted her curtain of hair. “Whose cat is she?”
“I got her at the pet shop about twenty minutes before I brought her over here.” He saw them staring at him openmouthed, and decided to come clean all the way. “After getting picked on so much in Bass Junction, I was determined to make friends in my new town. I saw you guys, and you were awesome, but it’s hard to break into a tight-knit group. I needed a way in. And when I heard about Savannah and animals, I came up with the idea of Penelope.”
The team was horrified.
“You lied to us!” exclaimed Savannah.
“Dude, that’s cold!” added Pitch.
Ben was so shocked that Ferret Face appeared at his collar to investigate the disturbance. “We trusted you!”
Melissa retreated behind her hair, which was where she usually hid from confrontation.
“Does this mean you don’t care about our Oscar predictions?” Logan asked in desolation.
“Of course I do!” Victor pleaded. “I care about all of you guys! That’s why it’s important for you to know the truth. It started out as a way to break into the group, but everything else is totally real!”
His heart in his eyes, Victor looked from face to face, seeing disbelief, anger, resentment, suspicion, and, in Melissa’s case, nothing at all.
Only Griffin, his former enemy, wore a wide smile. “Hey, don’t be so hard on him,” he told his friends.
Ben blew his stack. “Are you crazy? He played us like a piano — to the point where we even turned against you! Don’t you understand what he did?”
Griffin grinned. “I understand perfectly, and you should, too. It was a plan — and a pretty good one.” He threw an arm around Victor’s shoulders. “The kid’s a planner, just like me.”
The team officially had its newest member.
GORDON KORMAN’s first five books featuring Griffin Bing and his friends are Swindle, Zoobreak, Framed, Showoff, and Hideout. His other books include This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall! (published when he was fourteen); The Toilet Paper Tigers; Radio Fifth Grade; the trilogies Island, Everest, Dive, Kidnapped, and Titanic; and the series On the Run. He lives in New York with his family and can be found on the Web at www.gordonkorman.com.
DON’T MISS ANY ANTICS OF THE MAN WITH THE PLAN, GORDON KORMAN:
SWINDLE
ZOOBREAK
FRAMED
SHOWOFF
HIDEOUT
Copyright © 2014 by Gordon Korman
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Korman, Gordon.
Jackpot / Gordon Korman. — 1st ed.
p. cm. — (Swindle ; bk. 6)
Summary: Griffin Bing and his friends are trying to locate Mr. Fielder’s missing thirty million dollar lottery ticket, and thwart the local bully, Darren Vader, who wants to find it for himself — and Mr. Bing’s latest invention may help.
ISBN 978-0-545-56146-4 (jacketed hardcover) — ISBN 978-0-545-56147-1
1.Lottery tickets — Juvenile fiction. 2. Inventions — Juvenile fiction.
3. Bullying — Juvenile fiction. 4. Friendship — Juvenile fiction.
[1. Lottery tickets — Fiction. 2. Inventions — Fiction. 3. Bullies —
Fiction. 4. Friendship — Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.K8369Jac 2014
813.54 — dc23
2013007882
First edition, January 2014
Cov
er art © 2014 by Jennifer Taylor
Cover design by Elizabeth B. Parisi and Whitney Lyle
e-ISBN 978-0-545-63349-9
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.