The Ticket

On the whole, life was pretty dull and mundane for a retired teacher with no family.  Julia’s husband had passed away seven years earlier, just before her retirement.  They had never had any children, so she could not complain, as some friends did, about the excessive drama created by younger generations, and the ways in which time could be consumed with their needs.

She belonged to a retired teachers’ group which met monthly for lunch, attended church on Sunday, and volunteered at Hospice.  Occasionally she got together with a friend for lunch or coffee, but in general, life had few ups and downs….or at least there wasn’t much deviation from the norm.  Trips with the retired teachers did get her out of town now and then.

Her small and tidy home had a small and tidy yard.  A neighborhood boy mowed the lawn for her.  She did love her flower gardens.  She looked eagerly each year for the perennials to bloom in their turn…crocuses, tulips, daffodils, gladiolas, daisies, bleeding hearts, black-eyed Susans, and phlox.  Julia loved them all.  She was also fascinated with hosta and had several varieties with solid or variegated leaves growing around trees in shady areas.

On a hot August day, Julia knelt with her trowel, weeding and edging the flower beds and thinking random thoughts.  She definitely needed something to spice up her life.  She wasn’t particularly interested in finding some elderly gentleman to date.  Her marriage had been happy, and it seemed like a lot of work to break in another husband.  She had noticed that even the nicest of men seemed to get a bit more grumpy and impatient as they aged.  She wasn’t sure that the benefits of a relationship would outweigh the irritations. 

She turned over the dirt and amused herself with the radical notion of becoming a secret agent.  Who would suspect a sweet gray-haired old lady?  She could travel the world on clandestine assignments, dancing on the edge of danger, risking a heart attack or stroke from the excitement and stress…or maybe not.  However, it would be nice, she thought, to have some delicious secret.

A delicious secret…hmm…what could she do that no one would suspect, but that also wouldn’t kill her prematurely?  What if she wrote a book under a pen name?  What if it was racy or dark and totally unlike her own life?  But then, how would she know about a life that was totally unlike her own?  She couldn’t stand watching soap operas or horror movies.

If only she could be fabulously wealthy, but continue with her lowly lifestyle.  She could give her money to a worthy charity.  It would be fun to walk through the world never being noticed and savoring such a secret. She turned this idea over along with the dirt until her knees were so stiff that she absolutely had to get up and stretch.  Perhaps that was enough gardening for today.

The rest of the afternoon passed reading plays by Euripides.  She had set about reading the Great Books, thinking she might actually become “truly educated” before her passing.  She discovered that she disliked Euripides’ attitude toward women, and that she was becoming bogged down in the Greek plays.  It was looking less likely that she could finish the Great Books before she became blind, senile or deceased.

She took up as much time as she could in preparation of her evening meal.  Tonight it would be a shrimp stir fry with fresh sugar snap peas, a small zucchini and scallions from her trip to the farmers’ market this morning.  Julia carried her meal to the living room and hit the TV remote. Scott Pelley was her dinner companion at 6:30 PM on weekdays.  She could have dinner with a handsome and pleasant gray-haired man with no strings attached.  She wondered if he was getting grumpy as he aged.  If so, she would never have to put up with it.

Midway in the news broadcast, she learned that the latest winner of Powerball still had not come forward to collect the $450 million dollar prize.  Theticket had been sold in Missouri at a rural convenience store.  Imagine that!  It was thought that someone probably knew he or she was the winner, but was consulting with a lawyer before claiming the money.  Julia let out a small disgusted snort.  She had never in her life gambled.  She could not comprehend the foolishness of a person spending even a dollar or two, when the odds were astronomically against winning.  She had never even participated in a 50/50 drawing.  Her parents had brought her up to believe gambling was a serious sin.

After Alex, Pat and Vanna had entertained her, she did a couple of crossword puzzles, took a leisurely bath and crawled into the double bed which had seemed too big for the past seven years.  She had just begun to drift off to sleep when she realized what a delicious secret it would be to actually win the lottery and donate the ticket to a charity.  She wondered if it would be possible to view the purchase of an occasional lottery ticket as harmless entertainment rather than serious sin.

Julia sighed, snapped the light back on and began to wander the house.  It was useless trying to sleep once her brain had begun to examine every aspect of an issue, even if the issue was a remote fantasy.  If there was a threshold at which she predetermined to purchase a ticket…and only one ticket….she would not be sucked into wasting huge sums from her carefully budgeted resources.  As she stood gazing out the living room window at the shadows cast by the street light, she decided on $150 million.  She would not allow herself to purchase a ticket unless Powerball reached that amount. 

As she admired her gardens in the moonlight from the kitchen window, she agreed with herself that she would not purchase a ticket at any store in which she routinely shopped and would be recognized by the store personnel.  She would vary her routes traveling to visit friends or when running errands, so that she made the purchases of tickets in many different locations.

If she won, and she had begun to believe that she would win, what charity was worthy of such a donation?  That, she decided, would require some research.  She drank a cup of warm milk and returned to bed.

Over the next month, Julia paid more attention to the requests for donations which arrived in the mail on an almost daily basis.  Normally such mail went straight in the trash unopened, unless it felt thick enough that there might be enclosed mailing labels.  But now, she read each request carefully.  How could one do the most good?  Human need exceeded any individual’s wealth….even her imagined, currently unrealized wealth.   One thing she knew for sure….she did not trust the government to spend her money wisely.  She wanted to minimize what she had to pay in taxes. 

Although the plan for her winnings was not fully formulated, Julia decided to buy her first ticket.  A friend with a year-round home on the lake had invited her for lunch.  The leaves on the trees were changing into a glorious array of colors, and she thoroughly enjoyed the drive to her friend Kate’s lovely home.  As they sat sipping tea after lunch, Kate commented that Julia seemed distracted….was something wrong? 

Julia thought, “I must learn to control myself better.  I am thinking about buying a ticket on the way home.  I can’t do anything that would cause suspicion.” 

What she said was, “Goodness, no, nothing is wrong!  I am just enjoying the breath-taking view of the lake and the colors of the leaves reflected in that area over there were the water is shallow and still.”

An hour later, she pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store which she had noticed on the drive to the lake.  She put the car into park, and sat there a moment.  Was she really going to do this?  Perhaps, she should buy something in addition to the ticket, but being frugal, she didn’t want to buy something she didn’t need.  Items she could use, like a loaf of bread, would be more expensive in a convenience store than in the supermarket.  She took a deep breath, marched into the store and bought her first Powerball ticket.  Her heart was pounding as she left the store.  She felt as if she had just committed a crime.  She decided that her parents and husband must be rolling over in their graves.  She slid into the car, closed the door and laughed out loud as she put the key into the ignition

.

That night as she ate dinner in front of the TV, she said to Scott Pelley, “I bought a lottery ticket today.”  Scott Pelley did not react or miss a beat as he read the news.  “So,” she thought, “it’s no big deal.”  She slept well, which she decided, when she awakened in the morning, was a sign that her conscience was clear.

Fall became winter and winter became spring.  Spring became summer.  Julia turned over the dirt in her flower beds and thought about the tickets she had purchased since the idea first came to her.  She no longer had palpitations and misgivings when she bought the tickets.  She had carefully followed her initial criteria for making a purchase.  Each time a winner was announced, she shredded her losing ticket.  The purchase and the shredding became a routine with no particular emotion attached.  Of course, when she put the first ticket through the shredder, she felt as though she was destroying money, but feelings of that type had subsided with each repetition of the ritual.

Although she wasn’t saving her losing tickets, she did want to know what she had invested in this foolishness.  Each time she purchased a ticket, she removed the top drawer of her lingerie chest and used a pencil to put a mark on the bottom of the drawer.  When she won, she planned to tally up the marks.  She wanted to know what the endeavor had cost.

She had also come to the decision that her immense fortune would be placed into a charitable remainder trust with an organization she had researched and felt confident was reliable.  Depending on the size of her winnings, she would draw a small percentage each year for donations during her lifetime, but the bulk would not be distributed until she was planted next to her husband.

Years passed.  Julia could feel her body getting older and more tired.  She spent less time in the flower beds, and they began to show the neglect.  However, when the opportunity was presented to take a bus trip to Hershey, Pennsylvania, with other retired teachers, she determined to go.  She needed something to break the monotony of life. 

The trip did serve the intended purpose.  She toured the Rose Gardens, attended two concerts, enjoyed dinner conversation with her fellow travelers, and purchased more chocolate than she should have.  On the return trip, the bus stopped at a restaurant with an attached gift shop.  During the meal, Julia walked through the gift shop on her way to the ladies room.  Hmmm…..Powerball tickets for sale and no one from the bus in sight…no one else at the cash register.  She made her purchase and slipped the ticket in her purse.  She forgot it was there when she arrived home.

A week later, she saw an article in the newspaper that a winning ticket had been sold in a gift shop in southern New York, and no one had yet come forward with the ticket to claim the money.  Her pulse quickened a bit as she retrieved the ticket from her purse. She sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper and the ticket comparing the numbers.  Did they match?  Her heart began to pound as she carefully compared every digit.  Her hands trembled with the realization that she held the winning ticket.  She dropped it on the table, afraid to touch it.  She jumped up and began to pace the house talking to herself.  The phone rang, but she didn’t trust herself to answer it.  She had to regain total control of her emotions, if this adventure was to remain her secret.

About 30 minutes later, she picked up the ticket and put it in the same lingerie drawer with the marks on the bottom…73 of them.  She would do nothing further until tomorrow.  That evening as she sat in front of the TV eating her supper, she told Scott about her good fortune.  He did not even nod or smile at her.  Alex, Pat and Vanna didn’t react either.

After her warm bath, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling.  The ticket was worth 375 million dollars.  It couldn’t be real.  It must be play money.  She must be dreaming.  She drifted off reciting to herself the distribution she had planned on.  With such a large sum, there was no reason to make charities wait until her death.  She would have 325 million distributed now and put only the 50 million in the trust.  Only 50 million?  She giggled.  She would draw only one-half of a percent each year from the money in the trust and find a way to give most of that away.  She would contact the foundation which was to be entrusted with the money in the morning.

Hal Josephs, the executive director of the Oak Tree Legacy Foundation, was late coming in to the office having had a breakfast meeting to attend.  On his calendar was an appointment his secretary had scheduled for 11 AM with a Julia S.  It was unlike his secretary not to obtain the full name.  She explained that the person who had made the appointment seemed to be hesitant to give her name or the reason for the appointment.  Hal shrugged.  He dealt with a number of eccentrics.

Promptly at 11 AM, an elderly lady arrived dressed in a matching skirt and jacket and looking the part of a retired schoolmarm.  He shook her slender hand, surprised by the strength of her grip. 

“Mr. Josephs,” she began, “I have an important matter to discuss with you, and I must insist on total confidentiality.  I do not want anyone…not even your secretary…to know my business with you today.”

Hal assured her of this with some amusement.  He had seen his share of retired school teachers who had saved up tidy sums, at least, in their estimation.  What is a large sum to one person is pocket change to another.  But, Hal was good at his job and respectful of all.

“A few years ago, I decided to do something I never thought I would do.  I began to buy Powerball tickets.  I do NOT believe in gambling.  I don’t even buy 50/50 tickets.  If someone asks me to buy a raffle ticket, I just make a donation.  So, this was a bizarre thing for me to do.  I convinced myself it was just for my own entertainment.  But….as luck would have it….”

Julia reached into her purse and pulled out the ticket.

Hal stared in disbelief.

“It’s worth 375 million,” Julia said calmly and quietly.  She had practiced saying this at home, so that it would seem casual.

Hal didn’t speak.

“You must take this and turn it in on behalf of the Oak Tree Legacy Foundation.  You must not reveal where you got the ticket.  All of the money is to come here.  I have written down the amounts to be distributed immediately, and what is to go into a charitable remainder trust with the distributions to be made when I die.  I am leaving this all for you to handle.  You can let me know when you have documents ready for me to sign.”

Julia immediately got up to leave.  Hal was struck with the notion that no one knew about this, and he could…no, no…he must not.  Just as Julia reached the door, she turned.  “By the way,” she said, “I have taken a “selfie,” as the young people call it, with the ticket, and placed it in my safety deposit box.  I know you are honest, but it is a lot of money and anyone could be tempted.”

Hal smiled and nodded.

Two days later, the news hit the media that someone…no age, no gender, no location indicated…had donated the ticket to the Oak Tree Legacy Foundation.  Hal deflected all questions.  No one suspected Julia.  No media camped on her front lawn.

The next time she went to the retired teachers’ luncheon, someone at her table said, “You know, I think that lottery ticket that was recently donated, was purchased at the very place we ate on our trip back from Hershey.”  Several people smiled and murmured.  Julia put on her disgusted I-Don’t-Believe-in-Gambling face.  Then she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.  As soon as she sat down in the stall, she pulled off one small square of toilet paper.  She stared at it thinking, “Isn’t it interesting what one small piece of paper might be worth.”

She never bought another lottery ticket, but often stared at small pieces of paper murmuring to herself.  A few years later, this habit brought great amusement to the staff at the Oak Tree Legacy Senior Home, the construction of which had been funded by a multi-million dollar gift from the foundation of the same name.  Julia didn’t seem senile in other ways.  What was the meaning of her strange ritual?  Each time a staff member helped her into the bathroom, they saw her tear off one small square of toilet paper and stare at it with an inscrutable smile.