Lottery

by Kimberly Shursen

  aleb had always wanted to own a boat. He’d taken classes at the yacht club when he’d been married to Katherine and had received his captain’s license. Last week, he’d taken the seventy-five foot boat out with the salesperson. Today Caleb was taking it out by himself to decide if he would purchase the ninety-two thousand dollar cruiser.

  “Oh, my,” Samuel said when he stepped on board the stark white cruiser with a wide navy stripe on each side. The awning could cover the entire top deck or roll back leaving a portion of the upper stateroom open for sun worshipers.

  Caleb’s eyes started at the back skimming over the wide swimmer’s platform that could be used for sunbathing or diving into the ocean; over the built-in benches that hugged the back and sides of the boat that were covered in a plush white leather, and the rich dark veneering that encased the control panel.

  One step up from the cockpit was a spacious stateroom. The white leather wrap-around seating that could seat a dozen or so people was across from the full-sized refrigerator and wet bar. With an abundance of built-in cabinetry, there was even a stainless steel Weber grill.

  “Come on, Sam,” Caleb motioned and went down the few stairs between the passenger and driver’s seats.

  Underneath, a whole new world evolved. A luxurious curved sectional upholstered in the same white leather as the cushions on the upper level took the length of one side of the boat. On the other side, a galley kitchen, complete with a stainless steel sink with two-burner gas stove were embedded in the white marble countertop. A sixty-two inch television rested inside one of the cherrywood cabinets.

  “What do you think?” Caleb stretched out his arms. “Is this big enough for all of us?”

  Samuel scratched his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Caleb walked to an open door beyond the grand stateroom and waved Sam inside.

  Caleb took a few steps into a lavish bedroom. The queen-sized bed was covered in a beige suede spread with an array of decorative pillows strewn across the top. Caleb faintly caught the musky odor of cedar in the two open closets. The entire lower level had an abundance of oval shaped porthole windows with shirred curtains that could be closed for privacy or opened for light.

  “Look at this bathroom.” Caleb walked toward an open door. The floor-to-ceiling marble tiled shower was sandwiched next to a countertop with two deep-bowled sinks. Above each basin were rectangular mirrors framed in ornate silver frames. Caleb nodded back at the stateroom. “There’s another half-bath by the stairway.

  “You really know how to drive one of these?” Samuel asked, not commenting on the amenities.

  Caleb smiled. “Let’s go see.”

  Cruising in the bay, Caleb tried to explain to Sam how to use the chart plotter, color radar screen, and the VHF radio that was attached underneath the counsel. “Even has air conditioning and heat.” Caleb glanced up. “Oh, and a surround stereo system.”

  Except for the ripples of gentle waves from passing barges and cruisers, the waters were calm; the skies above them cloudless. The colorful sails on the sailboats in a nearby regatta billowed in the breeze. As they travelled further out into the bay, the clamor of traffic and the clang of streetcars began to fade.

  “Breathe in that fresh air,” Caleb commented to Sam, who sat in the passenger seat across from Caleb. “Here, take the wheel for minute.” Caleb stood.

  Samuel slapped a hand over his chest, his eyes wide. “Me? But, I don’t—”

  “Just keep it straight. Just like driving a car, only easier.”

  “Be right back.” As soon as Sam took the wheel, Caleb hurried down the few stairs into the stateroom. He needed a drink. He’d promised Ling he would cut down, and would … just not today. Between Sam telling him he’d heard Caleb talking to himself, and that damn Weber trying to order him around, his nerves were frayed.

  Caleb took the flask out of the inside pocket of his jacket and twisted off the top. He took a quick glimpse at the stairs to see if Sam had followed him. When Caleb didn’t see him, he gulped the clear liquid. After Caleb popped a couple of breath mints into his mouth, he tucked the container back into his pocket and went back up the stairs. Taking the passenger seat, he looked out over the rolling mounds of Marin Hills. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

  “I wish you’d drive,” Sam said, a worried expression on his face. “I just don’t feel comfortable.”

  “You’re doing great.” Caleb hoped Sam wouldn’t suspect he’d been drinking. “Ever think you could go under the San Francisco Bridge instead of over it?”

  Sam was quiet.

  “You said you wanted to learn to fish,” Caleb said.

  “Always wanted to, but never had the time.”

  “Well, now you do.” Caleb pushed the sunglasses up on his nose. “We’ll go soon.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “I can’t swim.”

  “That’s why there are life jackets.” Caleb nodded at the benches in the back. “The seats are storage benches. There are enough jackets on board for a dozen people.”

  “Caleb.” Sam broke the silence. “We need to talk.”

  Caleb stiffened.

  “I know you’ve been drinking,” his father-in-law started.

  Caleb stared straight ahead, his stomach starting to ball into knots. He didn’t need this right now.

  “I’ve seen you talk to yourself, and now the drinking again. It has to stop.”

  Feeling the build-up of pressure over the past few weeks, Caleb had to talk to someone. Day after day, week after week, guilt was taking him like a fast-growing cancer. “Everything’s all fucked up,” Caleb blurted, put his hands on the dashboard and leaned forward.

  “Tell him, you coward,” Weber piped in.

  Sam looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

  Caleb slapped his knee. “World’s fucked up, Sam.” The words started to tumble out. “Started with the lottery ticket.” He tossed his hand in the air. “Weber died, and someone was on the boat, and then everything got all fucked up,” he babbled.

  “I don’t understand what—”

  Caleb shot out of his seat, his hands clenched into fists. “I fuckin’ killed people,” Caleb took off his sunglasses, and wiped off the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “I killed them to make your daughter happy.” He pointed an accusing finger at Sam. “Your daughter.”

  Sam took a step back, his face slowly draining of color. “Killed?”

  Seeing the fear in Sam’s eyes, Caleb knew he’d made a mistake. Jesus. He put his sunglasses back on. Caleb put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re like a father to me, Sam. If there’s anyone who will understand why Web … I mean, why I did what I did, you will.”

  “I think you’ve had too much to drink. You don’t know what you’re—”

  “Sayin’?” Caleb stumbled backwards and caught hold of the dashboard to stop from falling. “You’re trying to break up my family.” He shook his head, the anger building. “Not going to happen.”

  Sam let go of the wheel. “Let’s go back.”

  “Tha’s all you’re gonna say?” Caleb mumbled, reached over Samuel and turned off the boat. “I spill my guts and all you say is let’s go back?”

  Sam put his hands up in front of him. “Look,” he said calmly, “let’s just forget about this and go home.”

  Caleb glared at him. “You’re lying. I thought you’d understand.” Caleb pinched the top of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “Oh, God.”

  “I do.” Sam slowly took a few steps into the aisle. “Really. I do understand,” he said unconvincingly.

  Caleb shook his head back and forth. “No … no … no.”

  “Get rid of him now,” Weber hissed.

  “We’ll have a cup of coffee and discuss—”

  “Noooo,” Caleb shouted and grabbed Sam’s neck. “You’re just like my ol’ man. Judging me … telling me I’m not good enough.” Trying to get away from Caleb, Sam’s fists struck at Caleb’s head … arms … shoulders.
Caleb grasped Sam’s throat with both hands and tightened. Sam tried to speak, but couldn’t get his words out.

  Caleb held his breath, squeezing harder … harder as he stared into Sam’s terrified eyes. “Fuckin’ just like my dad!” Caleb’s teeth clenched, he couldn’t stop the rage.

  “Get it over with,” Weber told him.

  Tighter… tighter…. Caleb’s thumbs pressed into Sam’s Adam’s apple. Sam was no match for Caleb who had a good forty pounds and six inches on his father-in-law. When Sam’s legs and arms started to slow, Caleb knew he was in control. Seconds before his body went limp, Sam gurgled, saliva oozing out both sides of his open mouth.

  “He’s not dead, O’Toole,” Jack hissed. “Don’t stop.”

  Caleb slowly let loose of his grip, and watched Sam’s body slump to the floor. “Oh, Jesus, no.” He glanced at his open palms, and then slowly fell to his knees, tears spilling onto Sam’s face shirt. Caleb shook his head, covering his face with his hands. “I loved you like a father … I did, Sam … oh, God … why couldn’t you just accept me? Why did you … make me … do this?” He tilted his head back, bawling uncontrollably.

  “Quit your crying and get to moving,” Weber instructed.

  Caleb opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized until now that he and Sam’s struggle had led him to the back of the boat. Paranoid someone could be watching, he turned his head in every direction. When he didn’t see anyone around, he slowly rose to his feet.

  “Get rid of the body,” Weber ordered.

  “Fuckin’ shut up, Weber!” Caleb wiped his eyes as he walked back to the helm. “You have no idea how I—”

  “Feel?” Weber guffawed. “The hell I don’t.”

  Caleb heard a rustle, started to turn, and let out a gasp when Sam jumped on his back.

  “Bastard,” Sam rasped, his hands squeezing Caleb’s neck.

  “Told you he wasn’t dead,” Weber stated.

  “Shit.” Twisting and turning, Caleb tried to pry Sam’s hands off of his neck. “God damn it, let go!” The weight of having Sam on his back sent him into the side of the boat. Trying to loosen Sam’s grip from around his neck, Caleb began to ram Sam into the side of the boat. Over and over again, Caleb smashed Sam’s back into the side, each time with more force. When the weight suddenly lifted, Caleb heard a splash. Breathless, he turned and saw Sam in the water.

  Heart beating rapidly, Caleb leaned over the side. “Sam?” he called watching Sam helpless in the water, his arms and hands slapping on the surface rapidly trying to stay afloat.

  “Let the SOB drown,” Weber taunted.

  “I can’t,” Caleb shouted. “I fuckin’ can’t, man.” Sam’s face contorted in terror, he choked out, “Heeellllp.”

  Caleb had made a mistake. What the hell had he been thinking? He leaned over the side as far as he could and reached out his hand. Sam’s face turning purple as he struggled for breath, Caleb stood up abruptly. “I have to make this right.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Caleb heard Weber say.

  Caleb’s mind raced, Weber was right. If Sam lived, he would take Ling and Ahna away. Sam would also tell Ling that Caleb had tried to kill him. Tears blinding him as he made his way back to the cockpit, he started the boat. Not looking back, he pushed the throttle down. A few seconds later, he glanced back over his shoulder and could only make out Sam’s fingers above the wake the boat had left behind. “Jesus … I can’t.”

  Heart pounding, Caleb turned the wheel and raced back. No longer seeing Sam’s hand, he stopped where Sam had fallen in. Fumbling to turn off the ignition, he ran to the back of the boat and jumped into the bay.

  Eyes open, Caleb searched through the cloudy abyss for his father-in-law; one way, then another, and back again. Lungs on fire, he rushed to the surface, gasped in air, his eyes frantically scouring the surface for any sign of him. “Sam?” His heart breaking into a million pieces, he tilted his head back and cried louder, “Saaammm?”

  He dove back under. Sam couldn’t have gone far … the water was too calm. Caleb came up for air twice before he spotted Sam moving in slow motion away from him. Swimming as fast as he could, Caleb caught Sam’s hand, and gradually pulled him close. When they surfaced, he slapped Sam’s face a few times, but it was too late; he was gone.

  “Take him somewhere else,” Weber told him. “Dump him a long ways away from here so they’ll never find the body. But leave something behind.”

  Caleb wrapped an arm around Sam’s chest, unable to control his emotions, he sobbed as he pulled Sam to his chest. Sam was the only man who had ever meant anything to Caleb.

  Holding him tight with one arm, Caleb used his other arm to manipulate them through the water. When Caleb reached the boat, he let go of Sam briefly, and hoisted himself up to the swim deck. Quickly, he bent over and caught the collar on Sam’s shirt before he slipped away. It took all of Caleb’s strength to slowly pull the dead weight up onto the platform.

  Drenched, Caleb glanced around the bay. A lone barge was too far away to have seen anything; a pleasure boat was at least a half a mile away. “Weber?” Caleb called. Nothing. What did Weber mean by leaving something behind?

  His clothes drenched, Caleb was freezing and hadn’t brought anything to change into. He worked Sam’s body up and over the back of the boat.

  After Caleb started the boat, he took out the flask and polished off the gin. Suddenly, it came to him what Weber was trying to tell him; Caleb had to leave something behind to prove this was where Sam had fallen in.

  Frantically, he opened each bench, searching for something to cut off a piece of Sam’s clothing. When he found a surrogated knife in a survival kit, he knelt down next to Sam, trying to avoid looking at his face as he cut a piece off of Sam’s shirt sleeve.

  “Not enough,” Weber told him.

  “What the hell do you want me to do?” Caleb asked, exasperated.

  “Blood.”

  “Blood?”

  “Just do it,” Weber replied. “Get some of his blood on it.”

  Caleb placed the piece of cloth under Sam’s thumb, and sliced through the meaty flesh. He watched Sam’s dark, red blood quickly saturated the cloth. Caleb glanced at the knife … the cut in Sam’s thumb … and then at the look of horror that was frozen on Sam’s face. How the hell could he have done something so evil?

  “Stop thinking and move!” Weber shouted.

  Caleb stood and tossed the piece of bloodied material over the side of the boat, and then shook out one of the blankets he’d brought for the trip. He covered Sam’s body and went back to the helm.

  Caleb felt as if he was detached from his body when he started toward the Golden Gate Bridge and then out into the Pacific. With the vast ocean surrounding him, he tried to make peace with Sam. “I promise I’ll take care of Ling and Mei,” Caleb said in between sobs. “I’ll make you proud of me, Sam … you’ll see … I’ll make you proud of me.”

  When Caleb found a quiet, peaceful place where no one was around, he picked Sam up. Holding his father-in-law in his arms reverently for a few seconds, silent tears flooding his face, Caleb drew in a breath, and then tossed Sam’s body into the ocean.

  “Forgive me,” he said emotionally, watching the water spin in circles where Sam had gone in.

  He drew back his arm and threw the knife as far as he could.

  A few minutes later, Caleb turned the boat around. When he reached the spot where Sam had fallen in, he’d jump into the water as his clothes were almost dry. When the Coast Guard arrived, it would look as if Caleb had been searching for Sam.

  “Now you’re thinking,” Weber chimed in, but Caleb ignored him, realizing he’d never go on a walk with Sam again; never look at another picture Sam took with the camera Caleb had given him, and Ahna would never know her grandfather.

  Caleb knew there’d be an investigation. But when a piece of his clothing was found, the answer would be that Sam had probably been attacked by a shark or a swarm of fish. There was no sign
of a struggle on board, and Sam hadn’t been strong enough to leave any bruises on Caleb.

  Ling and Mei would tell the police how close Sam and Caleb were, and with no motive, the only thing left of Sam Jameson would be a piece of his bloodied shirt.

  hen her phone rang, Jenee picked up her cell and glanced at the caller ID. “Ling?” she answered excitedly. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “Must be karma,” Ling said. “I really needed a Jenee fix. Caleb and Dad are gone for the day so thought I’d call you as it’s quiet around here.”

  Jenee sat down at the kitchen table, which was still covered with breakfast dishes.

  “It’s cold here. Like in the forties this morning,” Ling said.

  “We’re supposed to get into the sixties today,” Jenee said. “But it’s going to rain. Better than ten below zero, however.”

  “How are the kids?” Ling asked. “Did Eli get his braces on?”

  “He did. Doesn’t like them, but Justin and I tried to explain as well as we could to a three-year-old that he had to wear them so his legs would get stronger.”

  “Must be hard for the little guy,” Ling said.

  Jenee picked up Baileigh’s cup and finished the last ounce of orange juice. “And, of course Justin has already got him throwing a football.” Jenee stood and walked to the sink, “What’s going on with you guys?”

  “Ahna took her first steps.”

  “What? She’s not old enough to walk.”

  “She’s almost one. Can you believe it? Caleb is like a mother hen. He’s crazy about her.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” Jenee started to pick up the breakfast dishes. “She’s so dang precious. I can’t wait to see her again.” She glanced out the window at the gray skies and rolling dark clouds. A storm was revving up.

  “I have a question,” Ling said.

  “If you’re going to ask when you can come to Kansas, I want you to come today.” Jenee picked up Eli’s half-eaten bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

  “I need an assistant,” Ling said.