All that Glitters...
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Sally was tired, she’d just worked a double shift at the call center. The voices of disgruntled credit card holders still swirling through her mind. Some were angry at getting charges they didn’t recognize. Others were fearful about a lost or stolen card. She was there to take care of them, to ease their fears and explain that the unrecognized charge was actually a restaurant or a software company that, as it turned out, was eventually acknowledged by the cardholder. It was tedious, boring and sometimes frustrating, and the pay was not great, but at least she had a job.
As she walked across the parking lot to her car, snow began to fall. She closed her eyes and lifted her visage to let the cooling flakes kiss her face and refresh her. She’d left home early and hadn’t made herself any lunch. So, all she’d eaten all day was a sandwich which posed as “chicken salad” and several cups of coffee. Now, with another day behind her and tomorrow being her day off, she reached for her key fob and unlocked her car for the drive home.
As she slipped in and reached out to pull the door shut, something on the pavement under the door caught her eye. It looked like a lottery ticket, which she started to ignore. Then, suddenly she had second thoughts, leaned down and picked up the piece of paper and slipped it into her coat pocket.
The drive home was not long. She lived only five miles away, but now the snow had begun to come down more heavily and her driver’s side windshield wiper wasn’t working well and neither was her ten-year-old car. So, she took the drive home slowly. Focused on the road and the snow, she forgot about the lottery ticket in her pocket.
The next morning, she allowed herself an extra hour in bed. Her partner, Joyce, had been up for hours, feeding the dog, reading the paper and drinking coffee. When Sally did get up and wandered into the kitchen to get herself a cup, Joyce was outside, clearing the newly fallen snow off the sidewalk and driveway. As she sat at the table sipping her coffee, she could hear the radio that Joyce had left on in the kitchen. “Last night’s Jumbo Jackpot of $35 million dollars had one winner and was purchased at a local grocery store.” For a moment, she drifted into a daydream about what she could do with $35 million dollars but laughed at the absurdity. Then, she remembered the lottery ticket she’d found last evening.
She walked into the mudroom, reached for her coat and felt for the side pocket and then for the lottery ticket. Looking at the Jumbo Jackpot slip of paper with a single row or numbers across it, she wondered… Back in the kitchen, she reached for the morning paper that Joyce had been reading. Turning to the back page, she found the results of last night’s Jumbo Jackpot drawing: 12-45-2-10-21 and 38.
She placed her ticket down on the paper beside the results and carefully compared the two sets of numbers: 12-45-2-10-21 and 38. She took a deep breath and checked again: 12-45-2-10-21 and 38.
The numbers matched completely. She was a winner of $35 million dollars. Well, there would be taxes and the payout was less than the annuity, but even at that, she would end up with several million dollars: no more call center, a new car, a new house, a new life! What would Joyce think?
Sally sat there, lost in thought, holding the precious square of paper. But, it wasn’t her’s. Sure, “finders keepers” and all that, but she didn’t really believe that way. Someone had bought that ticket. Someone had hopes and dreams; had chosen those numbers, perhaps numbers that meant something to them, a child’s birth date, an anniversary, or maybe they were just a computer’s random selection of numbers. Regardless, this was not rightfully her ticket and her money. But was it not? The ticket was bought by someone, but it was lost and found its way to her through a twist of fate. Was she meant to have this? Was it a gift, guided by some unseen and unknown spirit, her guardian angel, perhaps. Oh, life can be too complicated. That damn lottery ticket had been lost and she found it and she was meant to benefit from that find; end of story.
She got up and went to the front door, where she could see Joyce finishing off the last few feet of snow from the sidewalk. Pushing the storm door open, she shouted out to her, “good morning, Dear. I have some good news. Please come in now.”
Joyce, looking up from her shoveling, “I’ll be in as soon as I finish this last patch of snow.”
“No, please come in now. This is exciting news.”
As Joyce turned to walk toward the house, the bright morning sun now just over the top of their house, blinded her for a moment. She slipped on a bit of black ice, under the uncleared patch of snow and fell backward, hitting her head on the row of bricks that bordered the sidewalk. She died instantly, never knowing what Sally was about to tell her. Sally, standing at the front door, saw it all happen and was powerless to do anything about it. She threw open the storm door, dropping the lottery ticket on the porch and ran out in her pajamas to help Joyce, but it was too late. She could only kneel by the lifeless body of her loved one, cradling her bloody head in her lap and weep.
On the front porch, the now forgotten lottery ticket lay, as the light morning breeze teased and coxed it along the boards, until it was lifted enough to float off the porch and down the driveway, never to be seen again.
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the Name of the Lord.”
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