The Ticket
By Frank Kelly
At precisely noon, Elmer Chadwick placed his key in the lock of his business and shuffled through the falling leaves to Rita’s Restaurant, just two blocks away. As he walked, his mind was occupied with work. Elmer owned a small tax and accounting service and business had slacked off considerably; he’d even had to let his receptionist go. Florrie had fled the office in tears even though he’d given her two month’s salary as severance. Hell, soon he was going to have to fire himself! Thank God he didn’t have a family to support! He’d often spotted homeless people living on the streets and wondered how they did it. If things didn’t pick up, he was going to find out first-hand. The restaurant was packed and he had to settle for a stool at the counter. Climbing aboard, he greeted Tessie, the waitress, and ordered a ham sandwich and milk. While waiting, he chatted with Ted Lawrence, who owned the service station on the corner. Ted was loudly bemoaning the economy. “If we don’t get them Democrats out of Washington pretty soon we’re gonna all be on welfare.” Elmer, a Democrat, nodded politely and when his food came he continued to listen to Ted while chomping on his sandwich. In his mind’s eye he could still see the tears streaming down Floorie’s face and the pain returned. Hell, maybe Ted was right. Even doing his own paperwork there was barely enough to make his payments. He crawled off the stool and made his way to the cash register where Rita Blake stood waiting. Rita was seventy desperately trying to look thirty and the makeup on her face was so thick that Elmer always expected to see it crack and large chunks fall to the floor. “Hey, El, how ya doin?” she asked, taking his cash and making change. “Fine, Rita; how about you?” Elmer replied, taking the two one dollar bills and a dime Rita handed back. “Can’t complain; you wanna buy a lottery ticket with that change?” Elmer looked at the bills in his hand and shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” “What numbers do ya want?” Rita asked. Elmer shrugged. “I don’t know.” “Do ya have any favorite numbers?” “Nope. Why don’t we use your birthday?” Rita threw back her head and roared. “Now, El, you ain’t gonna get my birthday,” she said as she regained her composure. “That ain’t goin’ on any ticket.” “How many numbers do I need?” “Ya need six. Just pick some.” “What’s the jackpot, Rita?” “I dunno. Couple hundred million I think.” Elmer finally rattled off numbers while Rita filled in the spaces and he took the ticket and placed it in his pocket. Back in his officer he tossed the ticket into his desk drawer and spent the better part of the afternoon bringing the books on the Dayton account up to date. He closed and locked the door a little before five and climbed into his ancient Volvo for the drive home. Selecting a TV dinner and plopping down in front of his television, he watched Fox news and Wheel of Fortune. He was able to guess the phrases well before the contestants and wondered how they were selected. Maybe he could get on the show and win a few bucks. It’s not like he didn’t need them. Halfway through a police drama he fell asleep and woke about nine. Without waiting to see the news he went upstairs and climbed into bed. He lay there for a few minutes thinking about Florrie and then fell asleep. He was snoring loudly when his winning numbers were announced at the end of the news broadcast. |
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