The Lottery by Charla Mayne

“If you won the lottery, would you still want me, Sylvia?” She was leaning against me, after just coming back out of the house. She went in to go to the bathroom and grab us some water. Both of us were tired after mowing and cleaning up the yard. It was really hot out.

“Of course, sweetie. I saved an angel, and an angel saved me. I wouldn’t trade my angel for all the money in the world. I might buy her a ring and ask her to marry me, but I doubt she would say yes. She’s so young and pretty and I’m so old and worn out.”

“Let’s go ring shopping, ma’am. Look what I found on the fridge door. Four white balls and a Mega ball. And you did the Megaplier thing. I checked it while I was in the potty.”

“Holy noise. I’ve never won anything in my life. That is so cool. You’re good luck, little one. Very good luck, but I can’t believe you’d want me. Not permanently, as in you and me forever.”

“And you’re full of crap as well as rich. You’re not that old and you certainly aren’t worn out. I proved that this morning. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t do much better. And anyway, you told me you loved me this morning while I was proving you weren’t quite worn out yet.”

“And I do love you. Let’s get cleaned up and we’ll to shopping. We can call the Lottery office on Monday to find out how to cash that thing in. Get your name and address on the back of it. Quick!”

“But it’s yours.”

“Nope. I bought it for you. Come on. You asked me to marry you. Kind of. You said you wanted to go shopping for a ring if I asked you, so that’s kind of the same. Isn’t it?”

“You are a nutcase. I love you, Sylvia. I’d be proud if you were my nutcase.”

“Don’t badmouth your elders, young lady. Good way to get your bottom pinked.”

“Oooooh. Empty threats.” She reached out for me, but I screamed like the little girl I was and ran into the house and into her bedroom and to the shower. She caught me and wrapped me up in a hug. This woman was now everything to me. She did save me. She says I saved her, but it was only from herself. Doesn’t matter, I love her.

*****

“Two sugars, please. That looks like a big cup. Thanks.” I was getting my coffee and an apple bear claw at the donut shop up the street from where I was staying with friends. My parents had decided that my leanings toward the Sapphic weren’t the personal values they espoused for their daughter and asked me to find other arrangements. It was the polite way my mother translated what my father said.

“A fucking carpet muncher? My daughter? After everything we’ve done for you? Get the fuck out. Make yourself scarce. Just go. You are such a disappointment. You better hope your grandmother doesn’t find out about this. You won’t see a dime of your college money.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she already knew and was more of a life coach than a nay-sayer or a hater. She wasn’t a lesbian herself, but she understood my feelings and didn’t care. Unlike him, she loved me unconditionally. More later.

As I turned around from the counter, a guy grabbed me from behind and put a gun to my head. I peed my panties. I didn’t know that until later, but… I did.

He yelled out, “Open the register and clean it out into a bag. Hurry, or I’ll kill this one, then you, and do it myself. Speed it up.” The kid started pulling the change out first and putting it into the bag. I could hear it.

I was so scared. I looked straight ahead and there was a lady at the table right in front of me. She looked down. I saw a gun in her hand. She looked at my coffee. I was still holding my coffee, but the cup was shaking. She nodded, then looked down. Oh, my, Lord, she wanted me to help. She nodded again. I poured the coffee on the guy’s arm that was holding me. Some of it got on me and burned me, too, but he jerked, taking the gun from my head and “BAM” “bam” “BAM”. There is a strange whistling sound as a bullet goes by your ear at a thousand feet per second. I peed again. This time, I felt it, warm, wet. That coffee sure burned. Then I fainted. I was later told I fell into her arms as she lunged forward and caught me.

When I came to, she was holding me as police came running into the donut shop. She was holding my arm very tightly to keep me from running away, I guess. I heard sirens next and then a girl and a guy took me away from the pretty redheaded lady with the gun. That coffee really burned. I was put onto a gurney, strapped down and put into the ambulance. I guess the coffee did more…

*****

I woke up in a big room with curtains all around. Damn. I’m in a hospital. I moved my head, and the pretty lady with the gun stood and came to me. “Tammi, my name is Sylvia Withers. I’m a police detective. You probably have a lot of questions right now, but I need to thank you for your help and your bravery. The man that grabbed you was well known and wanted by the authorities. How are you feeling?”

“Uhmm. I don’t know. Hang on. Can I get a drink? I’m really thirsty.” I sounded thirsty. Raspy.

She hollered, “Maggie, can I give her some water? She woke up and she’s thirsty.”

I heard, “Yeah, Syl, that’ll be fine,” coming from another area of curtains.

I reached for the cup, but Sylvia shook her head and picked up the cup and held the straw to my lips. As I sipped on the water a bit, I realized my arm was throbbing and stung just a little. When I reached for the water, it didn’t move. The arm I tried to reach with didn’t move! That was when Sylvia shook her head. My left arm worked, though, so I held her wrist as she held the cup.

“Thank you, ma’am. What happened? My memory is a bit… Where’s my purse? My phone? Crap. I need to call Nana.”

“You’re fine. Your purse is here. There’s a phone in it. If you only have one, that’s probably the one in question. You can call anyone you want in a few minutes, but let’s make sure you’re all right first.”

A lady dressed in scrubs came into the curtained room. ‘Margaret’ was printed on her ID tag. Must be Maggie. She touched my forehead with a little pen looking thing with a ball on the end of it, then took my blood pressure, and then listened to my chest a bit with her stethoscope. She pushed some buttons on the bed and raised me up so that I was almost sitting. “Well, Miss Tammi Bigelow, you seem none the worse for the wear. Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes, but it sounds like a high-pitched squeal is in my right ear.” She cupped her hand over it. I nodded. “It’s there, but softer. My other ear is fine, I think. What happened?”

“I’ll let the good lieutenant tell you the story while I check your ears and eyes a bit better. Oh, I’m Dr. Margaret Frazier. Sylvia and I went to high school together. Go ahead, Syl. She’s probably dying to find out how close she just came to actually doing just that.”

“Maggie, stop, you’ll scare the poor girl. Tammi,” she began speaking while the doctor looked in my ears, then used a light to look into and around my eyes, “you were taken as a hostage in an armed robbery in the donut shop this morning. If you don’t remember, you and I spoke with our eyes, and I motioned with my eyes to your coffee. While what you did was fine, I was wanting you to pour it on his foot, but, this worked OK, except for you getting a little first-degree coffee scald and a bullet through your right forearm.”

“My turn, really quick,” the doctor said, “your arm is OK. The bullet passed between the ulna and radius, brushed against the ulna, so it bruised the bone a bit. It’s going to smart for a few days. No permanent damage, in all likelihood, and the bullet came out in one piece. He had a much smaller weapon than the fuzz, thankfully. In any case, after a couple weeks of aching, it looks like you are going to be fine. Go ahead, fuzz. Your turn.”

“Buttnugget.”

“Doctor Buttnugget to you, fuzz.”

“Lieutenant Fuzz to you, Doctor Buttnugget.”

Another, older nurse walked in. “Will you children stop. You actually have a patient, and somebody’s money, insurance, or tax dollars are paying us to act professionally and provide healthcare. Get with the program.” All three of them started laughing, so I joined them. Mistake. My arm really hurt.

“Tammi,” Sylvia continued, grinning and shaking her head, “I’m sorry. Maggie and I really are old friends, but Nurse Cratchit is right. Some professional decorum is in order here.” More giggles. “The perpetrator is deceased, so I can share with you that he was wanted for murder in St. Louis. We thought he may be in this area, but when he grabbed you and pointed that gun at your head, I recognized him from the police photos, and reacted accordingly. He had nothing to lose by killing anyone in that room. If it would have helped him walk out of that building, he would have done it. So… with your help, I put him down. I’m under investigation, you’re under a doctor’s care and we can talk. Questions?”

“Why is my ear ringing?”

“Sylvia, may I?” Sylvia nodded so Doctor Maggie could talk. “Sylvia told me that after you dumped your coffee, there were three shots fired. Her first one went right by your head, into his upper right chest, then the second was from the bad guy’s gun, right in front of you, into your arm, then when he started to raise his arm, pushing you so he could shoot her, the third shot was Sylvia’s. It ended the situation, suffice to say. The middle one was enough to cause a bit of hearing loss for a couple hours due to proximity, but the first and last were both released almost directly at you, a bit on your right side, with a much more powerful weapon. Then add the projectiles whistling by your right ear at an extremely high rate of speed, leaving the bottom line: You’ve suffered what we hope is temporary aural trauma. Short term tinnitus and loss of aural range. Questions?”

“No ma’am. I don’t think so. Yes. Can I have something for the throbbing n my arm? It’s really achy.”

“Push that button on the end of that cable there, dear. The red one. It’s a pain killer. It won’t give you too much. The blue one is the button to call the nurse. I’m keeping you overnight. You can go home tomorrow afternoon after I or one of my on-call compadres checks you out. It will probably be me, though. Syl, can you sit with her a bit? You needing to go?”

“No, I’ve been suspended pending the investigation. Standard procedure after I painted the wall behind him.”

“Sylvia. Stop. That’s gross. I tried specifically to leave that part out.”

“Sorry,” Sylvia said.

“What are you two talking about? Oh, you told me where the first two bullets went. Not the third. Yuck. Gross. I think I’m…” Maggie put a little tray in front of me for me to throw up in. Gross. Could this even get worse? After I gagged a bit, but nothing came up, I asked for some water. “Am I going to be okay?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes, hon, you’re probably going to be just fine. Nausea, stress, pain, and shock usually travel in the same circles with trauma. You are now a poster child for trauma.”

Sylvia continued. “The whole thing is over. You’re a bit of a hero and a celebrity, but other than that, yeah, you’ll be fine. I told my commander what you did and told him to put you in for the reward. He’s doing that. You’ll have some money for makeup and CDs after this.” She smiled at me.

That was a preview of The Lottery. To read the rest purchase the book.

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