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Printed from https://p15.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2124209-The-Lotto
by Mike
Rated: E · Fiction · Relationship · #2124209
Revision with grammar and spelling corrected.
THE LOTTO

          She wiped the tears from her eyes, knowing that as has become customary, she'll straighten her makeup on the bus ride to work. The morning started and was ending in the usual manner. Everything was fine for a while then it all degenerated into a one sided fight. It was always the same fight, about money. He was concerned that she was spending money they didn't have to spend on things they didn't need to spend it on.
          The morning started out well, she got up after the alarm went off and got the coffee going. After getting partly ready for work the coffee would finish and she would wake him up. Setting in the kitchen having coffee together they would chat with a bit of small talk. She was getting her cloths ready for her waitress job and had just set down to start on her make up.
He reached down and picks up her pocket book and sets on the table for her, just trying to help out a bit, when he notices a pink and white lotto ticket stuck down the side pocket. Immediately his whole demure changed. His attitude took a fast plunge as he started to berate her for spending money on such foolish items.
          “You know we can't afford to gamble like that!!” reaching for the pink ticket.
          “It was only 2 bucks”, she squealed as she grabbed the ticket from his hand.

The angry and surprised look on his face told her it was again going to be one of those mornings ending not to well.
          “I work hard and long for my pay and tips, I should be able to spend a bit on whatever I           want”
          she muttered under her breath, knowing she was throwing fuel on his fire if he would hear her.
          “But we have to manage the little we get right now, we can't be taking chances with what little we have.” His voice starting to raise,“ Am I the only one that realizes how broke we are ? Am I the only one trying to get us back on track again? You need to be more responsible with the money and not be throwing it away on foolishness.”
          Again her tears started flowing. Every morning this week practically the same argument. She was working and bring in the money. He was either worried bout spending it or depressed because he wasn't the bread winner and off he would go belittling himself in a tirade that would end with him blaming her, as usual, regardless. To him it was all her fault and there was no other reason.
          From experience, she knew all she could do was continue to get ready for work. The pain inside bubbling over as her tears would roll, destroying her make up as she moved around the 3 room apt still getting ready for work. His voice still rumbling on like a slow train carrying a lot of pain to her ears. She knew she shouldn't let it bother her so much, she did buy a lotto ticket, but it was only one and only 2 dollars. Her first thoughts were he should get over it. Two dollars wasn't going to break them anymore then they were already broke. But on the other side, it was two dollars that could have bought creamer for coffee or maybe a loaf of bread so they could have toast for breakfast.
          He had a way of doing that. Turning everything around so it was always her fault. Pulling her uniform over her head she felt angry that he would once again cause her to 'think she was in the wrong'. His words could be very painful at times, and it seemed he was always aiming for her anymore. He was always critical of her decision-making, and now in the past several months it has increased ten fold. She was feeling that she could do no right, that the whole situation was her fault.
          Feeling the room closing in on her, she wiped the tears from her eyes and glanced at the clock as she was putting her makeup back into her pocket book. It was time for her to head to the bus stop.
          “I'll see you this evening, time for my bus”, she sobbed, tears still leaving trails of dark mascara down her cheeks. Even as she stepped through the duplex door she could still hear him rambling and cursing bout the situation.
          Finally, outside in the cool air and just half a block from her bus stop, she allowed herself a deep breath and slowly pulled her self-esteem back out of the hole it plunges into whenever he goes on a tirade like that. The early morning uneventful walk to the bus stop helped calm her nerves as usual. Light of the sun was just starting to show when the bus came around the corner and moved to the stop where she was standing.
          As she stepped upon the bus and dropped her token in, she looked around at the passengers. This early there was only a few passengers on board and she was sort of familiar with them. After riding the same bus almost every day for past several months you get to be known and get to know those around you as well.
          The looks, hiding their true feelings, she has seen numerous times. Quickly taking a seat near the front as she always does, she retrieves the makeup case and starts reapplying her eye shadow and cleaning up her tear stained face. Why doesn't she just wait till she gets to the bus to put her makeup on, would save on doing it two or three times. Her thoughts in a quandary, first blaming him and getting angry at him, then turning upon her own self feeling foolish and stupid for making the same mistakes all the time. Spending money they really can't afford to spend.
          Looking around the bus and trying to smile and nod hello as she repaired the damage she always tried to imagine that no one noticed her. She would try to believe that everything was OK and normal and her life wasn't a miserable wreck. Looking out the window she could see several of the other riders on the bus thru the reflection. They would be looking at her with pity on their face, till she would turn away from the window and see the faces would be nondescript, no reaction or recognition at all, everyone seemed to be deep in their own thoughts and troubles.

          The door slammed closed before he even finished his last ramble. Looking up from his coffee and the table and seeing he was alone again in the room, he felt again the pains of remorse. Fine job he did, once again, no, actually for the fifth time this week he had crushed and hurt her over garbage. Why does he do that ? It seemed like it was going to be a good morning. He felt good, very little pain as he hobbled into the kitchen. She was fluttering around getting ready for work. Her cloths on the ironing board and coffee on the table. His cup at his seat and she was setting across from him looking into the small mirror on her compact as she painted her eyebrows on.
          All was well with small talk till he reached for her pocketbook on the seat near him. His intention was to set it up where she could reach it easily. The intention and reality didn't meet. He noticed a familiar pink and white piece of paper stuck in the side of her purse. He lost it, somewhere in his head a switch flipped and so did his mood. Why was she spending money!! She should know that they couldn't be doing that. Why couldn't she understand?! It was the principle not the dollar that he was angry about. And it all seemed accumulative. Once his temper would flare it seemed that all his anger would spill out, regardless of what started it. Like a snowball down hill, no matter what started it, it was going to roll its course and just crash everything as it grows. His anger was like that, over the last several months he would find himself very short tempered and blaming her for everything, which he knew was crazy. His getting sick was not her fault.
          He knew what had to be done. Setting there at the kitchen table as he does every morning after she leaves, a revelation hits him. He knows what has to be done...what has to happen. His resolve is calm now, as always once she leaves. He finishes his coffee and heads down the hall. Limping and breathing heavy, using the wall to steady himself as he enters the bedroom. Setting down on the end of the bed he sees himself in the mirror. Wow how much he has changed.
          The disease had changed him tremendously, or rather the drugs changed him. Everything, from his physical appearance to the way his emotions are, has been changed by the drugs and disease. It was an old looking man that stared back at him from the mirror. The sight of his own disheveled self just reinforced his resolve. Reaching into the drawer his fingers felt what he was looking for and beside it was a bottle of Jim Bean.
          A Christmas present from some now distant friends. Pulling the bottle out he looked at the clock and knew he had plenty of time. Opening the bottle he took a long drink of the golden liquid and felt it burn all the way down. He had already taken his medications so he knew the alcohol would not mix well with them. He wanted to be clear-headed when the time came. He wanted no one to say it was because he was drunk. Taking another drink he figured on taking a nap before she got home. Just to get his head straight first.
          He knew he was in the wrong. It was her fault though. She didn't seem to be trying to help their situation any. Of course, she cared for him. Has been there the whole time throughout his issues. But she was getting tired, he could tell. Guilt was overwhelming him for the situation he was in. He knew it wasn't something that he could have caused or prevented. It was just something that happened and they had to deal with. Few more drinks and his thinking was starting to ramble.
          Glancing at the bottle as he took another drink he realized it was half gone now. And felt the alcohol smoothing out his brain cells. Looking into the mirror he saw there were tears on his cheek. He didn't even realize he was crying. Putting the cap on the bottle he reached into the drawer and pulled out what he was after in the first place. Looking it over and examining it a little he laid back in the bed and decided to have a nap before she got home.
          The bus had stopped and she stood and moved toward the door. Glancing back at the remaining passengers with a small smile, she started to step down from the bus. The bus drivers “Have a nice day, hope the tips fall good for ya” still ringing through her head, as she moved down the street to the restaurant she waitresses at. It was only a few steps from the bus stop which was good for her. She only had to cross the street to catch the same bus home in a few hours.
          The restaurant had a few customers when she entered and headed back to the area she would put her coat up and store her pocket book. As she put her stuff away she noticed the ticket and guessed she would get a print out of the numbers before she left and compare them. This was pretty routine for her cause she had been buying tickets twice a week for months.
          Buy the ticket the day before the drawing. Hide it then check it on ride home. Stick losing ticket into post that once held a sign at the bus stop. Funny she thought how many losing tickets would it take to feel up that pipe.
          “You have a call party in station 3, hon.” One of her fellow waitress pointed out as she was leaving the storage room. Getting her mind back into the work mode as she stepped over to the table and greeted them with a beautiful smile that she didn't really feel. He work face was on and would not change until she clocked out.
          After taking the tables order she walked to the cash register and asked the hostess to print out the lotto numbers for her, just like she did twice a week. Getting the printed piece of paper she slid it into her apron pocket to check it later in the day. They were starting to get busy and she was in her zone now. Delivering her orders and refilling stock made her day rush by. Being busy meant the clock seemed to fly around the numbers.
          He woke up after a few hours. His mouth was dry and felt like somebody had stuffed cotton balls in it. Setting up he felt the room start moving and swirling. He struggled to get his emotional bearings and looked around slowly. Remembering he had something important to do, he ran both hands over his face and through his hair, dropping them to his side and looking into the mirror again.
          He felt the cold steel under his hand when he dropped them and his idea flooded back into his head. Yes, he knew what he had to do. He knew when she got home she would say something at the door as she entered. He also knew as usual, she would put her things on the kitchen table and come down the hall way to the bed room to change cloths and wake him from his usual slumber.
          He left the door only partially closed so she wouldn't see him or much of the room till she was already into it. That’s what he would do. This would fix everything with very little effort even on his part. The conclusion of all the issues. They wouldn't argue anymore. He wouldn't hurt her any longer. Even now his love for her was gut wrenching strong and pushed guilt all through his body.
          It was heavy. Heavier than he had noticed before. Turning it over in his hand he thought how strange something so clean and shiny, so nice to look at with clean lines could change things so immensely. Pushing the clip button dropped the empty clip into his hand. The feeling of the metal was actually cold but smooth. Reaching into another drawer he pulled out a half filled box. It was much heavier. Opening the box he got out two bullets and put them into the clip. Closing the box and placing it back into the drawer he knew he only needed two.
          After putting the box of ammunition away he put the two bullets into the clip and shoved the clip back into the gun. Pulling the top of the gun back it fed a bullet into the chamber. Watching himself in the mirror was like watching a movie. Weighing the gun in his hand he looked it over. Turning it this way and that...running his other hand over the smoothness of it. Feeling the coldness and wondering if it was really cold or just him. Running it along his face and cheek and feeling it their and watching in the mirror, it was like being in a dream state or watching a movie. He didn't feel like he was part of this scene. Everything was ready now. Door was just the way he wanted it. He knew it was going to be a surprise, he also felt this was going to end her pain as well as his.
          Rubbing the nozzle of the gun over his face he wondered things, slowly wrapping his lips around the end of it he watched the mirror. It looked so natural and the calm he felt at that moment was like nothing he had felt in a long time. Everything was coming together now. He felt his decision was the best in this circumstance.
          The only question going through his head right then was, “am I going to hear the click?”
          The morning and afternoon had flown by. She had been busy the whole time and was making a killing in tips. The tips had fallen real well today and she was so happy. Tonight he was gonna be OK, they would have a few dollars and he may have a little relief from the pressure. Just before leaving she stopped and sold her ones back to the cashier as they always do. Forty dollars and some change meant it was a very good day. She stepped out of the restaurant just in time to cross the street and catch the bus home.
          Once again she saw several passengers she recognized. And the bus driver was the same as always. He nodded and smiled as she stepped onto the bus, “hope it was a good day for you, mam”
“Yes it was” she said as she took her seat. Glancing around as she normally does, seeing the drawn tired faces of the regular commuters, she felt her work face changing to genuine smiles. The day is part over and everyone seemed to be deep in their own homeward-bound thoughts.
          Arranging her self where she set she reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out the lotto print out. Then opens her pocketbook and takes out the lotto ticket that started the fight this morning. As the bus started rolling toward the next stop, she compared the numbers. 4-25-27-36-42 and power-ball was 17. Again she went over them. Yes, she wiped her eyes, “Yes!” she exclaimed under her breath. A couple passengers near her glanced casually at her.
          Her numbers matched the print out. Her heart was racing. She felt her stomach approaching her throat and swallowed hard. Shaking her head a little and then seeing her hands shaking she put both hands, with the tickets, down beside her. Took a deep breath and looked around to see if anyone was paying her any attention. No, as was common they all were dealing with their own little worlds and not looking her way. She looked again, it was hard to realize that this piece of paper was going to change their whole life.
          It dawned on her that this was an answer to their issues. He could get more help and money pressures would disappear. They could now get a nice house and bills all be paid. They could now eat out as often as they wanted and even have some together time like when they first got married. A myriad of issues popped into her head that this piece of paper could, would, fix.
          Tears again flowed, knowing that the ordeal was almost over was refreshing. So much so that the tears of joy was flowing freely. Almost like this morning, her makeup was being ruined but it was different, buy people on the bus noticed. Normal evening ride this girl was usual to herself and quiet but smiling and acknowledging others around her. Today she was off in a different world they thought, and her tears just proved that something was wrong. They couldn't have been further from the truth.
          She knew the lotto office didn't close for a couple more hours. She also knew the office was only a few more stops past hers. She decided she would go on to the lotto office and get their money before heading home and revealing to him their lucky windfall. Coming up on her stop the bus driver looked at her through the mirror. Expecting her to pull the cord as she always does. When she didn't he asked her if she was missing her stop. “Not today, need to take care of something a few blocks up the road, Hey what's going on? ” She pointed to the police cars with the lights flashing couple blocks a head of them.
          Looked like they were near her stop. As the bus neared slowly then veered around one police car in the middle of the street they all turned and saw a stretcher being moved out from a duplex door. Her duplex door. Oh my, what's that all about. Hope he didn't kill anyone!! Then it dawned over her. She didn't have to worry anymore. The Realization of what he had done was washing over her now like a physical shower with ice-cold water.
          Getting off the bus at the lotto office, she moved into the building like in a dream. Not totally in shock but seeming confused. After she met with the receptionist and told her about the tickets she was ushered into another office. A gentleman walked in with a big smile on his face. “I need to check the numbers and verify this is a legitimate ticket. It’ll only take a few minutes then you can relax and plan to enjoy your financial luck.”
          Yes, she thought, lots of things are changing right now. She lost her husband but gained a fortune. Wonder what is next??
© Copyright 2017 Mike (mmooney100 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://p15.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2124209-The-Lotto