Chapter Thirteen (13)

It was hot, for the morning air conditioning had not yet kicked on in the conference room.

For their second meeting on the PowerDrop Lottery Account, six associates were gathered. Helen was surprised that she’d been invited. While it is possible that several talents had a scheduling conflict, apparently Helen had been selected on merit. At least for the moment, she was on the team.

Things may change if they land the account, thought Helen. But for now, she was silently overjoyed to be amongst the chosen. It made her want to work all that much harder. I’d hate to admit Young McQuade had a good idea in place, she chuckled.

Standing in front of them stood Linda Edwards, PowerDrop official. She began her presentation precisely at 9:10 am. Her first order of business was to request that everyone retrieve the PowerDrop lottery ticket that they had supposedly purchased for last night’s drawing. All but Helen had theirs open on the desktop.

While Helen returned to her cubicle for her purse, and subsequently her lottery ticket, Ms. Edwards went on to say that while they are not professional advertisers, they will be looking favorably at those advertising campaigns enhancing the process of checking the numbers.

"While the television broadcast is wonderfully produced, we feel we can generate additional revenue by offering sponsorships on our alternative number reporting sites. We have an extensive voice mail system, which we see as a marvelous opportunity for an advertiser to post his message. We would like to see our advertising/marketing partner plan and administrate a Web Site which would be second to none. Here, again, we see revenue growth as we team up with our marketing partners to get their message out.

"Thousands of people check their numbers apart from watching the drawing on TV. Why should they have less opportunity to do business with our marketing partners?" asked Ms. Edwards as she turned to face Helen, now returning to the room.

A tape was shown of last night’s drawing. The glitch in the vacuum tube was obvious, but the professional grace of Ms. Lumpkin covered up any awkwardness that could have resulted. As the numbers were read, Helen looked at her ticket ’.

"23"

"3"

"20"

At this point, Ms. Edwards explained what happened during the hesitancy and how officials are meticulous about making sure these mistakes happen rarely.

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

Helen thought how odd it was that she had hit three numbers of an old drawing. In fact, in a somewhat self-esteem deficient way, she thought it typical that she’d win a free ticket with numbers from one week matching her numbers from this week. She had no idea these were the current winning numbers because she hadn’t listened when Linda explained that. Also, Helen never bothered to watch last night’s broadcast. She was certain she had no possibility of winning.

She was wrong.

Ms. Edwards repeated that these were the current numbers, drawn last night, September 9th. And it took about fifteen minutes for it to sink in. Helen watched as the last three numbers were selected, and she even exclaimed "I’ve got all six!". However, since it so highly unusual for anyone to be in the company of a winner, no one considered her utterance anything more than humor. No one either bothered to look over at her ticket.

Patti Wright actually guffawed following Helen’s comment, given that it was so out of character for the shy Ms. Wade.

And so, as her heart raced, and she heard Ms. Edwards explain yet again that these were the numbers drawn last night . . . Helen began to feel very strange.

Normally, when someone is given deliriously exciting news, it hits them all at once and there is an adrenaline rush, accompanied by an elation of sorts. Helen’s news that she had never dreamed could come true was processed so slowly and in pieces that she never experienced that "5-4-3-2-1 BLASTOFF" feeling. It slowly dawned on her, that if the ticket in her hands was real, and the numbers that were drawn on the tape were last night’s, then she had won.

At least, she’d hit six numbers. As she understood this game, she’d also have to hit the PowerDrop number.

That missing link was supplied after five more minutes of Edwards’ analysis of the PowerDrop Account’s needs.

"Seventeen" was the number that came up following the dramatic roll and subsequent drop of the money ball. The loops and turns and twists and mazes were completely forgotten when that ball settled into the slot marked "17".

Helen Wade had won the lottery.

She didn’t squeal, scream or cheer.

She told no one. She even folded the ticket and put it in her blouse pocket. Carefully. After she’d read it four times.

She was lightheaded as the discussion continued all around her. She was dizzy when Ms. Edwards explained that within fifteen minutes of the drawing, her office had known that four winning tickets had been sold. One, in fact, right here in Ashby Heights.

"At Shorty’s Convenience Store. Last night. About 9:15pm. You may know the winner," shared a smiling Linda Edwards.

Now Helen was in silent shock. She bought her ticket last night, at Shorty’s, after the 8 o’clock Big Book meeting at Christ the King Lutheran. She had heard the numbers, seen ‘em drawn right there on tape. She had a ticket that matched all seven numbers.

She won?

She mustered enough composure to ask one question:

"How much did they win?"

It was explained that there were four winners and that while the jackpot was low for a PowerDrop jackpot, the $72,085,000 would be divided four ways, then approximately 62-64% would make it to the winner, divided by 25 annual payments.

At the risk of being rude, Helen penciled out some rough calculations on a scratch sheet. 72085000 divided by 4 winners equals $18,000,000. That would be the winning share of each of the three winners.

Her hands shook.

Almost $18 million dollars divided by … what percentage did she say?

Sixty-three percent . . .

Eighteen million divided by 63% would be … no that cannot be right! $18 million multiplied by 63% would be about ten and a half million dollars, over a twenty five year period.

Aw hell, she thought, did she pick annual payout or lump sum?

She pulled out the ticket again, as inconspicuously as possible. She continued to feign attentiveness as Ms. Edwards shifted into some charts and graphs work.

Annual Payout. So … $10.5 mill, divided by 25 years equals … roughly $450,000 per year.

Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year? No . . . wait. Wasn’t this for twenty five years of payouts and shouldn’t I know this?

Could this be possible?

Helen Wade … millionaire?

An old drunk with a checkered past … “double-tripling” her salary? For doing nothing?

Oh my God!

She thought about excusing herself.

She thought about telling everyone in the room.

She thought about jumping to her feet and screaming "YES!"

She opted for silence. Humility. His will. Patience and humility.

She checked the ticket again. Never can be to sure.

She heard nothing for the rest of the meeting.

She made one decision and one decision alone, even with all the fantasies possible with that kind of money: she would tell NO ONE until she had a chance to talk with Dorothy or Father Bill. She wanted no one to know until they knew.

The lottery will have to wait to hear anything from me, thought Helen.

I have a lot of thinking to do.


Finally, the meeting ended. Helen contributed nothing more than "How much did they win?. The group discussed WWW issues, and joint marketing preferences, alternative revenue streams and PowerDrop Lottery commercials.

Helen sat in wonderment. Surely, she wouldn’t remain on Team with output like this.

But, did that matter … anymore?

She left the building immediately. She only planned to walk around, so she left her jacket and her keys. She took some money from her wallet. She got on the elevator with two smokers, working their way towards their unofficial hourly break. Their conversation kept her from having to say much. She wasn’t sure she could contribute if asked.

She made it outside. It was a gorgeous day, without a cloud in the sky.

She simply stood outside and inhaled. She knew of no better way to thank her Creator.

"There’s my ray of sunshine!" Al Hunter was early today. Some days he arrives before lunch, other days he saunters around after most of downtown had eaten.

"You look quite content today, quite fulfilled! Have you remembered to thank God for something today?" His bellowing voice filled the courtyard, his smile shone as bright as the 11:30 am sun.

"Hello Al! I have thanked God today. Thanks for asking." She embraced him and held on just a beat longer than normal. He welcomed the hug and seemed grateful for the extra effort. He held his hands on the ends of her shoulders.

"Lady … let me tell you. You look like something is heavily on your mind, or on your heart. It doesn’t look like it’s all bad news, but something has you thinking hard today. Are they working you too hard upstairs?" He held his hands on her as he looked deep into her eyes.

"Yes and No, Al. Yes and no. But I try to stay grateful, joyous and free and I don’t let them get to me anymore. You taught me that!". She felt herself well up a little bit as the events of the morning were beginning to sink in, at least emotionally. Mentally, Helen was still not sure what exactly had transpired.

"Do you have time for a walk, Al?" She knew not why she asked, but she was certain that sitting in the confines of the office, even with all the work she needed to do, was not going to work today.

"For you? Certainly!" Al, whose age has been estimated between 57 and 72, turned and set a brisk pace, downhill, towards the Lilly River.

And on the walk, she almost told the homeless friend Al Hunter about her good fortune, nearly breaking her first vow of whom she’d tell. Instead, she enjoyed time with a man she’d met by happenstance some four years previously, a man with whom she shared nothing more than happy moments and a zealous view of life.