not so tough

The Lottery Song
By Moira Ness

11, 18, 23, 22, 35, 38

Lift off. Those were the numbers. The beautiful, crystal clear numbers. The officially official numbers. The winning lottery numbers.

And they were my numbers.

Day 1

Last night I slept on the couch. I was holding the ticket when the TV personality announced the numbers. I held onto the ticket as the numbers appeared silently on the screen. I stared at the ticket, x-rayed the ticket. I kissed the ticket. I fell asleep clutching the ticket. I slept much better last night then I had in months.

The first thing I had to do was make sure this wasn’t one big joke. I washed my face - stared at my face - as my computer beeped on. I went to the website listed on the back of the ticket and I finally saw. It was the numbers again, all there, all in order. All in line. I sang out in a lottery song bliss. The math was all calculated for me and I finally realized how much money I really had.

$39,753,331.26

That’s thirty-nine million seven hundred fifty-three thousand three hundred thirty-one dollars and twenty-six cents. Twenty-six cents! Ha! I stared at the computer screen for the rest of the day and long into the night. I was on appear offline and I saw all the people sign in and out. I felt like I never wanted to talk to any of them again.

Day 2

I needed to call someone. I needed to tell someone. I had 39 million things to explain and I had no idea where to start. But the way I see it, there are no people in my life who are ready to listen. I have my doubts in each of them and I fear they would take advantage of my “good fortune” without even the slightest second thought. I needed to tell someone who would think about what I should do before they thought about how much money I might give them. Maybe I’m being paranoid? I wondered about what would happen to my life once people found out I had all this money. I wondered if going to the corner store would evolve into a total drawn out activity, with security guards, paparazzi and police. Then again, I had only won the lottery. I was still the same person I was yesterday. I just had a lot more money now. Right? Warning signs and fear were seeping into my conscious. But would this really change me? Would it?

I looked outside at all the people walking around on the street below my apartment. Suddenly I didn’t feel quite at home. I no longer found life on this 18th floor. So this was the day, I was cold, smoking on my balcony. A light shone down and I realized I needed to leave. Not just out of the area, but out of the country, maybe the even the continent. I thought some more and settled on Miami. I looked past the skyscrapers on my horizon. Surprisingly I wasn’t scared when I felt my eyes light up with the colour green. It was just the glaze of dollar signs, swimming about in my head.

Day 3

I still haven’t phoned anyone. I’ve actually had no human contact in 3 days. Though I did hear there is a new lottery now. New tickets on sale. Apparently the jackpot prize hadn’t been claimed yet, even though the winning ticket had indeed been sold. This reminded me I hadn’t even gotten the money yet. Tomorrow then. I get all my money tomorrow.

I looked at my phone for most of the night. No one called. I called no one. Each number I had in my head never made it onto the keyboard.

Day 4

I walked downtown. It took me most of the day, but I was now walking at the bottom of the same skyscrapers I always stared at from my balcony. The building with the lottery ticket logo was just ahead and I walked in.

I told the lady at the front desk my situation. In hushed voices she conversed with the telephone. Darting eyes. I wondered, was it always like this? Where was all the confetti and photographers? I felt awkward and out of place. After awhile the same lady lead me upstairs to a big office. I noticed the backdrop where they take the pictures of the “oversized check” holders. I sat down at a table with far too many chairs. I couldn’t imagine this room full for some reason. It smelt too clean, almost as if no one had ever used it. A man in a suit walked in and sat down facing me. He explained that he needed to see the ticket, and some I.D in order to verify that I was actually the winner. I gave the required papers to him and he left the room while comparing my ticket to a piece of foolscap.

The TV hanging on the wall was tuned on the weather channel. It was 86 degree’s in Miami. This made me remember the night breeze. It made me recall the Pier and the ports and everything single Sunshine Highway toll booth in between. I saw St. Petersburg and Tampa. Treasure Island and Fort Soto. If I looked hard enough I even saw Los Angeles and Fairfield, but they seemed so much further. The green in my eyes burned so much brighter then. The man in the suit came back and sat in the same chair. He smiled weakly, handed me a normal sized check and said, “Congratulations, you just won the lottery.” And so, I signed all the papers in a euphoric blur.

Day 5

After the lottery building the day before, the “bank trip” was looming in my future. I dragged myself out of my apartment and to my bank across the street at the local strip mall. A man with a huge smile called me to his desk. I explained to him in a low tone about how I had won the lottery and needed advice and assistance on opening a new account with the proper settings and options. I immediately saw the green flare in his eyes. It died down before he invited me into his corner office. He explained to me my choices and we basically planned out my next few months. I told him about Miami and the BMW I wanted. He said he understood completely and would arrange for a dealer to contact me when I arrived there. The thing is he didn’t understand at all but I was totally okay with that. I also told him to open three smaller accounts only accessible one way, all with different cards. A monthly maximum withdrawal was set. I got three papers, three cards and three pin numbers. I wrote names on the top of each paper.

Day 6

The bank man recommended a financial planner and I saw her the next day. She was asking me what I wanted. She asked me what my opinion was. Suddenly what I had to say mattered. It felt different. I crossed my legs. She asked me when I wanted to leave. I said A.S.A.P. She said tomorrow. I said yes. I didn’t own much and I didn’t want to keep much of what I owned so I really had nothing to pack except clothes and books. I sat at home a few hours later, deciding whether I’d tell my tenant about my sudden departure or not. I was going to give her this months rent even though it was only the 6th. I finally figured it was less of a hassle to just leave, because I guess I didn’t really care either way.

The last night in my hometown. I had moved out of the area I grew up in a year after highschool. I rarely returned. But that night I rented a car and drove to back to my childhood. The streets still felt the same. I saw cross walks I had crossed. I used to walk down the middle of these streets at 3 am. I drove past houses I used to exist in. I named out all the streets, driveways and mail boxes. Then there were the stores I spent so much time in, wasted SO much time in. I noticed that they had changed. I brought a different perspective now, as I drove by. The last thing I did before I left for the airport was speed down that strip of highway between Dundas and Cloverdale Mall. I went as fast as that shitty rental car would go. I WANTED that feeling I used to get when I sped here before, years before, when I was totally fucked out of my mind on life and drugs. I WANTED my highschool friends to be beside me right now, smoking cigarettes just to get us by. I WANTED to change the song, the station, find all the files and remember which meant what to whoever. I wanted to remember all the meanings I used to find in my music.

But I found I couldn’t go fast enough. I had finally swept myself away. I kept going straight down the 401 to the airport. Planes were landing overhead as I drove and the sound that blasted by after scared me. I suddenly wanted to feel warm. I wanted to take pictures of palm trees and beaches. I wanted a new car, a new house and a new life. I felt like a force was pulling me towards the terminals. I just COULDN’T begin to miss this place yet. I griped the wheel, tears doing the backstroke in my eyes. I was parking when I tried to sing along to every word of the song. I even found myself changing the words around inside my head.

“Do you want to fall apart?
I can’t stop if you can’t start.
Do you want to fall apart?
I could if you can try to fix what I've undone,
‘Cause I hate what I've become.

You know me, oh you think you do, you just don't seem to see,
That I've been waiting all this time to be something I can't define.
So let's cause a scene, clap our hands and stomp our feet or something,
Yeah something, I've just got to get myself over me.

I could stand to do without, all the people I have left behind.
What's the point of going around when it's a straight line maybe, a straight line down?
So let's make a list of who I need and it's not much if anything.
Let's make a list of who I need and I'll throw it away,
'Cause I don't need anyone, no I don't need anyone.

You know the night life is just not for me,
'Cause all you really need are a few good friends.
I don't want to go out and be on my own,
You know they started something I can't stand.
You leave for the city,
Well count me out,
'Cause all this time is wasted on everything I've done.”

Day 7

I spent today flying and sleeping. When I got off the plane I smelt flowers. When I got off the plane it felt so humid. When I got off the plane I changed my name. I was so busy tampering with everything to do with me, nobody even knew I was in Miami.
Day 8

I got a temporary suite at the hotel closest to my newly assigned real estate agent. It still boggled my mind how everything was arranged for me. The BMW agent even picked me up from the airport. We were discussing models and he said he had an X3 in just the colour I had described. I figured he’d have something if I was willing to pay the money. When I was up in my room(more like a fully furnished luxury loft) I called the number of the real estate agent and made arrangements to meet the following day. I watched the real estate channel all night on my hotel TV.

Day 9

I looked at houses in the morning around Miami and drove to St. Pete’s in the afternoon. My new X3 was everything I thought it would be. I was living within the cliché that money and cars brought happiness. I knew it didn’t, I’d seen it all my life. But right then and there I felt like I was on top of the entire world. I felt like everyone would understand me, or rather they were able to, if I were just to speak. But I wouldn’t speak of it. I wouldn’t hear of speaking of it.

Day 10

For the past 2 days I had woken up at 7. I’d watch the local news, though it meant very little to me. I’d take a shower. I’d grab a coffee, realize that I didn’t even like coffee and then buy something else instead.

I knew I had been avoiding many, many things. I had people to call. I had papers to order and sign and send off. I really wasn’t even legally living in the states yet. I looked through my cell phone and wrote out the numbers I needed to call on a pad of hotel paper. I doodled around their names and digits. I procrastinated. I watched cartoons. I watched shows and episodes that I’d seen a hundred times before. I found a sort of fleeting comfort in this. I ordered the most expensive dinner I could and barely touched it. I found this need to experience this and things like it. I only spent the money because I felt I had to. I figured this feeling would lessen in later days.

That night when I was sitting on my bed looking at the hotel phone I had this mini “epiphany”. I brought out my cell phone again and turned it on. I added another number to the list and crossed out the rest. The dial tone droned as I typed in the numbers. I was stressing out so much that I was shaking and shuddering. When they picked up and sounded happy it made everything just start again. I tried to sound happy too as I explained everything. They were silent for a second and then they said they really missed me and wished I hadn’t left so soon. They asked how other people had reacted and I lied and said they were all happy for me. They asked about the weather and the palm trees and the storm I’d be getting soon. I just listened to them talk. I asked gingerly about “The City” and they told me all about the people I had purposely left behind. They talked and talked and I heard absolutely nothing but trumpets and voices singing.

I didn’t think I would have found salvation in a phone call, but I did that night. With a single faith restored I told them to arrange to come to Florida and that I’d pay for everything. And then suddenly I had to go. I had more things to do. I was circling the number over and over. I was crossing out the other numbers over and over. I drove to the pier, went to the top floor and threw my cell phone as far as I could into the ocean below.

Day 11

The green burns in anyone’s eyes that finds out my situation. I barely notice it now, but it’s always with me. I’m always aware y’know? Now all this time I had been thinking about myself. I saw now how easy it was to get caught up in the green. I came to the conclusion that could never even begin to spend all my money, so I started thinking about charities and organizations to possibly donate to. Maybe giving away some of my money would make me feel better about myself. Isn’t that the underlying reason people do it? Or is it because they did something, sometime in their life and now they feel guilty about it. Giving money away lessens the pain inside them.

Day 12

I’ve never known how to explain the stages in my life. I come to conclusions over time and label them, mockingly. An example of this was how I was busy writing 3 letters this morning. I had “no voice” left for these people. I wrote out the lists and reasons. Directionless letters. I couldn’t yet consider what I was doing to be charity. I put in the debit cards and sealed the envelopes. The adhesive tasted sour.

Now what did this look like? It seemed as though I was paying these people to stay out of my life. But really I knew I’d never see them again so I apologized in the letters for my hasty departure and explained that I probably owed them money anyways and just to accept the card. I gave them no contact information or return address.

Occasionally in the years to come I wondered if my cell phone ever rang at the bottom of the ocean. I can even remember the song it played. And I can really remember the relief it used to create.

Day 13

Lying on my hotel bed I started to feel like I was clawing at the edge of safety. Trying to push past it. Trying to weave around it.

So tomorrow, I thought, I’d do something good tomorrow. I’d get outside tomorrow. I’d go buy a new guitar and write a song tomorrow. Feverishly, I felt myself starting to fall apart. I knew this path, I’d been down it most my life. It was the procrastination factor. Tomorrow, always tomorrow. It would get better tomorrow. I hated the rest of that night. It was just so hard to sit and wait, my good intentions lingering. Knowing I couldn’t do anything about anything till tomorrow. Letting the anticipation eat me alive.

It was 11:59 and then it was 12:00. Tomorrow was here. Tomorrow had come. But why was it so silent? Why was it so somber?

Day 14

It was 2 am when I heard the knock on my door. I looked at the time and couldn’t think of who it could be, especially at this late hour. I looked through the door and out into the hotel corridor.

If I could ever slow down a moment in my life and exist in it for the rest of my days, it’d be this one. My brow, once furrowed with the constant stress of money, now fell, relaxed. The black in my eyes faded and my stare softened. My iris’ exploded in all the glorious colour’s of the rainbow. My eyebrows that were angry all the time were now at ease. A wind blew through the hotel and I had to hold on tight to the door, my eye still up against the looking glass. It rained. The sun shone. There was hail and sleet. All the seasons, all the disasters, everything. The trees were on fast forward. Bare limbs to spring buds to leafy green to all the colours of fall. I suddenly saw through the eyeglass a bunch of people in black and white beside the person who was waiting for me. All the people of my past. Walking in and out of focus. Looking straight at me, with eye contact and everything. I scrambled with the chain lock and swung the door open. Lights shone down from above and doves flew to freedom in the backdrop. In reality there was only one person and one reason though.

They came in and said:
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

I said:
“I…I wasn’t sure you’d ever find me again.”

Epilogue

It took me 14 days after winning the lottery jackpot to finally smile. Not laughing out loud or pretending, but really, really smiling. A smile that was pure and beneficial. A smile that was a remedy and a reason all at the same time. This smile shone through tinted windows. It captured the feeling of bliss every time I happened to look up into the sky.

On Day 11, a homeless lady told me that she’d send the angels of “demolition” to break down the walls I had built up around myself. I went back to her and thanked her over and over again because the walls lay in ruins days later. I could talk out loud and walk around the city. I could sing again and write again. I could love and live again, for I had been rescued. I held onto life so tightly. So very, very tightly and I never let go.