The Lottery Winner

This jail cell is not what I had in mind when I bought that lottery ticket.

Then, it was the fantasy!

Quick money. Easy living. Saying goodbye to the stressful life of running grocery store.

Gad.

But winning one hundred forty two million dollars was nothing like that.

That night on the way home from the store I stopped at the gas station and bought 5 lottery tickets, a fifth of Jim Beam, and a turn signal light for my car.

I joked with the sales clerk that I would be back the next day to collect on my winning ticket.

A customer behind me laughed. The clerk grinned. Squeezing the paper sack I left the store.

Mid morning the next day, in the grocery office, I reached a lull. The cashiers were busy but did not need help. There was a steady but uneventful stream of customers coming in the front doors. The beeping of the cash
registers created a fleeting vision of slot machines. Hence…

I pulled the lottery ticket out of my pocket, the same pocket that held my car keys, and a wine cork, something I nervously picked off the counter at home the night before. Just a crazy habit. Putting a wine cork into my pocket.

I was alone in the office, so I went onto the web and brought up the state lottery site. The Mega Millions drawing numbers were posted.

I matched an 03. I matched the next number, 16. I put the ticket down on the counter and stretched my neck so I looked straight up to the ceiling of the store. Slow down. One number at a time.
I matched the third number, 20.
The fourth number, 29.
The fifth number, 48.

My God!

For a moment I could no longer look at the numbers posted on the screen. One more number and I was the winner. I didn’t want to look. I rationalized. Even five numbers would bring more than $150,000.

That would be enough. The grind of working this hard would come to an end.

I looked at my ticket, at the Mega number – 02.

I looked at the Mega number on the state lottery site – 02.

If I had a defibulator I would have had to use it. My heart seemed to stop. I heard my name being called from somewhere in the store. But my mind was adrift without an oar.

Then there was a customer. A real, live, living customer, banging on the glass door to the office, rattling the lock, waving a hundred dollar bill.

"Can you change this for me?"

I glanced at the cashier. She shrugged. Meaning she did not have the change.

Breaking that one hundred dollar bill was the last thing I remember.

When I woke up I was in the county jail. In this cell.

What happened?

My wife’s face seemed to appear from behind a curtain.
Hers was a kind face, a pleasant face, a loving face, but when the lines on her forehead sagged southward, I knew there would be trouble.

"What got into you?"

I looked like a school kid suddenly called on in class.

"You wrecked your car. Your kids are in tears. And you have held yourself up to the community like you don’t belong. Like you should be exiled."

She paused.

How could I answer when I didn’t know what happened?

There was a mirror in my cell. I asked the wife to excuse me while I took a glance at the glass on the wall.

Bruised cheeks. Dried blood under one nostril. A swollen lip. Eyes that looked like they were at the wrong end of a telescope.

Another person entered the cell area. The police chief. Douglas Cantor. I felt relieved to see him.

"You have never done anything this crazy, Ed. What happened?"

My wife. The police chief. They both now looked concerned. Their expressions showed they awaited an answer.

I put my hand into my pocket. There were no car keys. Just a wine cork.

I felt my other pockets. Especially my shirt pocket.

No lottery ticket.

That would give them the answer they were looking for.

A one hundred and forty two million dollar lottery ticket would explain it all. What ever it was that I did.

But where was it?

I swore that if I ever won the lottery I would not tell anyone…except my wife. Not even the kids. Heck, they would want a bigger allowance.

But now I needed that ticket. I wanted out of this jail cell.

Finally, I heard myself say the words: "I won the lottery."

Chief Cantor said, "That is your story? You won the lottery?"

My wife just kept repeating my name…Ed…Ed…Ed.

The next day I was released from the jail cell, awaiting a court date.

I went immediately to my grocery store office. Regular customers seemed shocked to see me. My employees pretended like I was the same old Ed what had left 24 hours before.

I searched the office for my lottery ticket.

Then I walked out to the parking lot to check my car.

I always parked behind the store, right at the corner. The car was not there.

I learned that the car had been pulled from a drainage ditch and towed to the police impound lot. I had one of my kids drive me there.

I explained to the fellow at the counter that I just needed to check something in my car, the blue one parked out there behind the fence.

He called the police department for permission.

I could hardly get one door open. It creaked. Metal scraped metal. Glass shards were everywhere. It looked like a raging bull had slammed into the sheet metal.

Inside the car I searched on the seats, under the seats, in the back, on the dash, everywhere…no lottery ticket.
Back at the counter I asked the employee if I could speak to the tow truck driver who brought the car in.

"We haven’t seen him," the man said. "He dropped your car off, I guess he quit after that. No answer on his phone."

My stomach wanted to heave. I got light-headed and banged my way outside where the sun seemed as hot as Mars.

My kid asked: "Dad did you find your lottery ticket?"

"No. No I didn’t," I said.

"But I know who did."