Standing on Quicksand Read online

The Lottery winner

  For Donald Bouring it started as just another typical day and that was fine by him. He drove to work along the exact same route he had taken for 24 years and parked in the same area of the parking lot, if not the exact same spot, on the outskirts so as to avoid any door dents. He arrived at his small office cubicle just before 8 AM. It was a tiny work space in a virtual maze of chest-high beige colored partitions. He just about always followed the same routine as if it were a finely choreographed dance rehearsed many times. To him repetition was like a cozy warm blanket on a cold morning. First the brief case was gently laid on the desk then he hung up his trench coat on a plastic hook that he had placed adjacent to the entrance just for such a purpose. After sitting in his chair there was a procedure in which he placed his driving glasses in a case in the top drawer of the desk. These were then replaced with a set of reading glasses after thoroughly cleaning them with a lens cloth and properly stowing the glass case. He went about pressing several buttons above and below the desk to start his computer 'booting-up'. While waiting, the brief case was opened and files were shuffled to and fro into various stacks. There was the stack of items needing immediate attention, the stack requiring consultation with other individuals or waiting for return phone calls, the stack of moderate importance not involving current projects, and finally the stack which could be filed when time permitted. He extracted his lunch from the brief case as well, it generally consisted of a sandwich, piece of fruit, and a Hostess Ding-Dong. He had always liked that particular treat since childhood and refused to for-go it as an adult. The lunch was set in a place of honor at the inside corner of the small desk where it would sit until precisely noon. Having gotten everything in order it was time for a cup of coffee. He always used his own mug which he had brought from home years ago, this way he could be assured it was properly cleaned. Decaffeinated with one cube of sugar and two teaspoons of creamer was the way he always liked his coffee, none of this new-fangled foamed milk or over-sweet syrups for him. Returning to his cubicle he took his keys and wallet out of their prospective pockets and placed them into the top drawer of his desk. Something caught his eye on the floor as he sat down. Apparently the lottery ticket he had bought the previous week had fallen onto the floor. Upon picking it up he placed it next to the computer screen. He had added the buying of a lottery ticket each Thursday morning into his routine four years earlier without telling a soul to add a bit of excitement to his otherwise uneventful life.

  After having several hours of productive work he felt in a rather 'chipper' mood and decided to get another cup of coffee. Upon returning to his desk the lottery ticket caught his eye again. He decided that a tiny breach in protocol could be absorbed and he would check the winning lottery numbers now instead of waiting for lunch. The anticipation had been strung out far enough and despite the fact that he full well knew that the chances of winning the lottery were quite miniscule it still brought a bit of excitement. He punched some keys and brought up the internet connection to the official state lottery board website. After browsing thru the first few pages he found what he was looking for, the listing for winning numbers from the previous Saturday’s drawing. He mumbled the numbers under his breath as they came up on the screen.

  "22, 17, 38, 9, 32"

  As he often did he played a little memory game with himself and tried to associate in his mind the numbers that had been drawn and any other numbers, such as birthdays, ages, events, and addresses he knew. On occasion he was able to associate all the numbers with his personal repertory. This time he could only get four; his nephew was 17 years old, when they first got married they lived in apartment nine which was a cramped basement apartment he will never forget, his wife’s birthday was March 22th, and 1932 was the year his parents had been married.

  He glanced down at the lottery ticket next to the screen and mumbled those numbers to himself. He didn't always play the same numbers but would rather let the ticket machine pick the numbers at random.

  "9, 17, 22, 32, 38"

  His brow became slightly furrowed and he looked back at the screen. Once again he mumbled the winning numbers to himself. That was strange, they seemed to be the same numbers but in a different order. He immediately checked the date of the drawing on the screen to make sure he was looking at the right numbers then checked the corresponding date on his ticket stub. The dates did indeed correlate. Did this mean that he had won the lottery? He checked the amount of money which had been accumulated in the lottery pot, $8.7 million. Donald Bouring had never won anything. He simply sat stunned for a few moments letting this news sink in. He did not want to get anxious over nothing. After searching the back of the ticket stub, right under the chances of winning chart, there were instructions about how to go about collecting. He glanced over his shoulder a little nervous and then poked his head up over the field of cubicles. On occasion other men in near-by cubicles had played pranks on him so he half expected someone to jump out laughing at him but no one was paying any particular attention to him. On those occasions when pranks occurred he attempted to laugh along but it was only a mask shielding an uncomfortable, withdrawn feeling. There was a phone number to call and get information. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number. It rang four times before someone answered.

  He knew that if it was in fact true and he was in possession of the winning lottery ticket than he had to find a way to keep this quite. If people knew that he had won, he and Mildred would surely be inundated with phone calls and requests from every charity under the sun, let alone friends, family and long lost acquaintances who might want a loan. Donald could imagine the phone ringing off the hook even though he had long ago had their number and address unlisted. He figured that if anyone needed to call them they would be given the number directly. His hidden fear was the scam artists. They could be pretty convincing and it seemed only a matter of time, knowing how gullible Mildred was, before they would be fleeced for all their winnings. That would just not do.

  “Hello, I may be in possession of a winning lottery ticket and I’m wondering what the procedure is for collecting the money?” Donald inquired in low hushed tones so as to make sure no one in adjacent cubicles could hear.

  “It is quite simple. If the amount is under $100 than you can get the pay-out from any location that sells tickets just by signing the back of the ticket and turning it in. If it is more than that you can come down to the Lottery office between 8 and 4. We’re out her on the East Highway just before Farm Road 68. We can take care of you.” a kindly women stated.

  “If the winner would like to remain anonymous is that possible?” he posed.

  “Well you are lucky then because besides having to report the information for taxes our lovely state allows you to remain anonymous if you so desire.” She paused ”We get that question all the time” she reassured him.

  “Thank you for your time” He hung up.

  He sat dazed for quite some time and in a very uncharacteristic reaction reached for the Ding-Dong from his lunch pile. Robotically he unwrapped it and began to eat it staring at the picture calendar that hung on his partition wall. It has been a gift from his wife, Mildred, this past Christmas. It was one of several reoccurring presents that he received every year. Each month on the calendar was filled with beautifully photographed pictures of wondrous places around the world, the kind of places that in a younger day he had always wanted to travel to. Back in a time before he had slid down the slope of mediocrity, back when he idealistically yearned for more, to accomplish something meaningful as opposed to being a cog in the machine. One major set-back then was money, or lack of it to be more precise.

  From the calendar he glanced to his computers screen saver longingly. A scene of serene tranquility showing turquoise blue waters lapping on the shores of some South Pacific hideaway stared back at him. It has been one of the pictures from a calendar many years previous, an image that had struck a chord with him. Whenever he gazed upon it his face went slack, mouth hung slightl
y open, and eyes got round as saucers. He was so moved by it that he searched the internet for it and posted it as his screen saver ever since.

  Donald lifted his hand to his mouth again then absently stared down. The Ding-Dong was gone, finished, so instead he scratched his chin. A longing had been awakened and slowly a plan was forming in his mind. If he wanted to get all the preparations done before he was expected home that evening he would have to start immediately. He would be leaving early today, he nodded to himself. He grabbed his jacket and headed out, uncharacteristically leaving everything in its current state of disarray.

  His first stop was the giant shopping mall just outside of town, because it would have everything he needed. Donald knew it very well having walked it countless times for exercise during the long winter months so he was able to go straight to the luggage store. The shopping took a while as there seemed so many, a plethora of baggage choices.

  Donald definitely knew that he did not want a suitcase made of fabric that was so popular now-a-days. People may have been led to believe that these types of bags were more versatile with many pockets and reasonably priced but he knew better. These bags were flimsy and cheap, they seemed to have a designed obsolescence to them. No, he would not be settling for one of these fabric bags, he wanted luggage that would stand up to the world-wide travel that it would have to endure. Something like the American Tourister commercials that he remembered from his youth where a gorilla thru it around a cage and still couldn’t dent it.

  He picked out a complete set of hard-case luggage with multiple bags of varying sizes, Two large, a medium, and two small ones.

  A cellular phone store was the next stop on this shopping spree.

  He began browsing and was quite annoyed at the sales-man. Well you couldn’t really use the term ‘man’ to describe him as he was quite young. Donald wondered if the sales-’boy’ had learned to shaved yet. As with most people of that generation he was staring at his smart phone, obviously engrossed in some non-sense while oblivious to the rest of the world around him.

  “Aahem” Donald coughed.

  The sales-boy glanced up and finally realized that in fact a customer was present before pocketing his phone.

  “Yes, hello, welcome to the Fone Store, how may I help you?” he stated robotically as if rebooting an internal program.

  “Well, I’m looking for a phone…” but before Donald had finished the salesman had launched into another sub-routine of his internal programming describing the various versions, ticking off the technical features and summarizing license plans for the most popular models.

  Normally this might have irritated Donald, having a smug young sales person assume they knew what he wanted, but today he calmly replied, “That’s all well and fine but I have a specific criteria for the phone I’m in need of” he paused titling his head up and diverting his eyes, “It needs to get coverage anywhere in the world, is that possible?”

  “Well this one over here has great coverage, the best network, it is one of the most extensive in the US, you’ve probably seen their commercials…”

  “Yes, Yes, that is all well and fine, but when I say anywhere in the world I mean places as isolated as an island in the South Pacific for example or rural parts of Nepal”

  “Oh,” he replied with startled surprise” so places that might not be within range of a cel tower” This younger generation always were good a stating the obvious noted Donald.

  “That’s right, That’s right”

  “Well those are over here at the back of the store, we don’t have many models as they have quite expensive plans but they are satellite phones, versions of your standard smart phone that use a network of satellites in orbit to send and received a signals when the standard cel towers are unavailable” The sales boy continued to drone on as Donald examined the phone being referred to. Besides being a little thicker and having an extra-large extendable antenna it was just like any other smart phone. “Oh and the other reason we don’t sell a lot of these is the price. It is considerably more expensive, almost $1,000 for the phone alone. Do you still want it?” the sales-boy concluded.

  “Oh yes, as a matter of fact I’ll take two” confirmed Donald.

  “Wow, Well OK I’ve never actually sold one of these before” replied the sales boy with a tone a few octaves higher.

  “Well there always has to be a first… and a second” Donald added with a hint of humor.

  After leaving his personal information, signing contracts, and paying the deposit Donald gave the technician in the shop some time to set up the phones and connect them to the network. Donald checked his watch. While waiting he could run one last errand. There was a florist shop near the entry where he had come in and flowers were just the right thing, perhaps a bouquet made up of some of his wife’s favorite flowers. He had to be honest that it had indeed been some time since he’d bought flowers for his wife. The thought just never occurred to him to spend his hard earned money on something that was already dying and would inevitably wither in a short period of time. He’d only thought of it now because it would certainly make his wife happy and that was a good thing with the news he had to deliver. Yes, Yes a bouquet of red roses with purple chrysanthemums, her favorite, done up nicely would definitely put a smile on her face and be most unexpected.

  Leaving the flower shop he shook his head. Boy, flowers were certainly expensive; it’s no wonder why he didn’t buy them more often. A small grin did creep onto his face though as he made his way back to the phone store because it didn’t matter how expensive they were, it was not something he was going to have to worry about after visiting the lottery office in the morning. He patted his pocket where the lottery ticket was safely tucked.

  After picking up the phones and getting instructions about how they worked he checked his watch again. It was about time to leave if he was going to make it home at his usual time.

  Donald was going to have a busy day tomorrow. First would be how to tactfully and delicately quit his job in such a way as to not draw any suspicion that he was not doing it for any other reason than an inauspicious one. He definitely didn’t want anyone at work to know that he had won the lottery, they were all a bunch of two-faced snakes who, he guessed, would not hesitate to try and take advantage of him. He was too smart for them though. He had been there for over a dozen years but really had no one he would particularly miss. He had just been a cog put to work for the larger machine.

  It was strange because while he did not have an appointment and thus would not be late it gave him a little satisfaction to know exactly where the Lottery office was so he drove slightly out of his way to see its location.

  Donald swung the car into his driveway just as the clock on the dashboard hit 5:29PM. The garage door slide shut, leaving the luggage and bags in the trunk, he entered the kitchen thru the garage door. Mildred had her back to him and was mixing something at the stove. As soon as he opened the door his nostrils had been assailed with wonderful aromas of dinner being prepared.

  “Donald is that you?” she screeched without looking around. Donald breathed deeply, feeling the lottery ticket in his pocket one more time before closing the door.

  The sound of the shutting door prompted his wife to turn and her eyes light up with the sight of the bouquet of flowers. “Are those for me?” she rushed over giving Donald a kiss on the cheek and taking the flowers from him. She busied herself with unwrapping, cutting the bottoms and finding a vase in which to arrange them as she talked. “What do I owe this pleasure, what on earth has prompted this?”

  “Well I have some big news, really big news” Donald set his brief case and bags down, “the kind of news that is going to require a celebratory drink and a sit down” he added before proceeding to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of Champagne that had been sitting in the back, unopened since their anniversary the previous month. The bubbly efflorescence flowed into the champagne glasses, frothing happiness.

  “Oh my, I can’t wait
to hear” Mildred said, bringing over the vase to the table to sit next to Donald. “What is it, what is it?” she squeaked enthusiastically.

  Donald handed her a glass and raised his, “Something big happened today and it will change our lives forever.” He had his wife sitting at the edge of her seat, literally. “I was promoted today, and not just any tiny bump up in salary, this is a huge promotion and one I have been secretly soliciting for months now.”

  “That is great, that stupid ole’company has finally recognized you for the work you have done after all these years!”

  “Well really I won’t even be working for them anymore, in essence I’ll be an outside contractor but there is a downside that I needed to talk to you about.” He stated solemnly.

  His wife gazed with a tentative smile, tilting her head slightly.

  “While I am getting paid considerably more it will require me to do a lot more traveling, I’ll end up being out of town a whole lot more, probably several weeks a month doing inspections of some of their factories around the world and writing up reports about what I find. The management have thought of this as they know how trying it can be on family life so they typically include a satellite phone for the contractor and their family too more easily stay in touch”.

  “Oh my” Mildred brought her hands up to her face to cover her smile, she almost looked on the verge of crying, “I’m so happy for you, this is so wonderful. While I’ll miss you if that is what is required for your work than we’ll have to find a way to deal with it. Let me turn off the dinner and let’s go out and celebrate.”

  “I wouldn’t hear anything about it, that dinner smells wonderful, let’s just stay in and have dinner just the two of us, we can celebrate right here”

  Whipping her eyes,” OK, that would be grand, I’ll get it ready” she said bouncing off to the kitchen tor ready dinner.

  Donald Bouring sat back in his chair, grinning and raised his glass, downing the contents. His simple lie had worked. While he loved Mildred he knew she would just get in the way with all of her opinions and nagging. The ability to travel unrestrained and do as he liked was what he really wanted. For the first time in his life, he had a prickle of freedom. Yes that would do just fine, she would never suspect.

  The end.

  Interlude #5

  To find the answer is sometimes easy, it is the search for the correct question that is difficult.