10. If I Had a Million Dollars

In the beginning, it was Gram. Pinching. Gouging.

When no one else was looking.

Muttering words that Henry didn’t understand. Yet. The pain, he did.

Later, his cousins, less clandestine with cruel jokes and crueler insults. Kicks and punches.

Henry was pretty good at compartmentalizing stuff before he was out of grammar school.

Surviving his teenage years as a runaway required him to get even better at it.

Henry was still a teenager, after all, the first time he killed someone, with a knife and his bare hands, to defend himself from suffering the same fate.

Henry compartmentalized that experience.

Spent some time looking stuff up in the library. Learned what a sociopath was. What a psychopath was. Luckily, he wasn’t one of those.

But Henry knew to survive, he had to get even better at compartmentalizing. And fighting. And everything else.

The second time Henry killed someone, it was also to prevent from being killed, but there was a significant amount of money involved.

A street deal gone bad.

The third time Henry killed someone, today, meant taking the life of an innocent, defenseless person.

Death for profit.

But shit, hadn’t Pop taught him that once committed to a course of action, you follow through?

But this was different.

Henry had to shove today’s killing into the deepest, darkest, most secure compartment he had.

Henry had been thumbing through a pile of receipts on a marble-topped kitchen counter, hoping to stumble across lottery tickets, when Ticket-winner returned home more quickly than anticipated.

There were limited options.

Being an accomplished ghost, he could exit the house unseen.

But something pulled at him.

The challenge?

Excitement?

Henry wondered if he had become so addicted to this kind of adrenaline rush that he could no longer resist.

Maybe there was a reason; maybe there wasn’t.

Henry slipped into a doorless den next to the kitchen, surprised by shelves of gleaming trophies, and not the cheap shit they give to kids nowadays, just for showing up.

Gleaming gold and silver despite the low light. Some of the trophies were three or four feet tall, metal figures set to pillars set into solid wood bases with brass-plated stenciling.

Male and female versions across multiple sports.

Henry spotted a two-foot column with a baseball player at the top. Hefted the trophy and gauged the balance.

Set the briefcase and flowers on the floor and positioned himself in the door frame with a view of the kitchen.

***

Henry watched Leslie set the expensive handbag on the kitchen island and knew that was why he stayed—check the purse for the ticket!

Waited for the right opportunity and snuck up behind Ticket-winner and cracked her across the head, a blow that he knew from experience stunned even a strong, young person for several seconds.

Leslie, older, collapsed to the floor and was still.

Henry set the trophy on the island.

Walked to the den to fetch the briefcase and plastic flowers.

Walked back to the kitchen island and stuffed the flowers into the briefcase, which he set next to the red purse.

Began going through the content.

Said, “Holy shit,” when he immediately found a lottery ticket.

Checked the numbers and almost shouted out loud upon seeing the winning numbers.

But wait!

Always check all your numbers, Pop said.

Henry checked the date and saw the ticket was played today. Probably just now, when she went out.

“You bought this today?” Shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Set the ticket aside and went back into the handbag.

Pulled out a wallet, lipstick, a pen, tissues and then another lottery ticket … and another lottery ticket and then several more.

Saw that all of the tickets played the same numbers.

“Damn Lady! You just played and never checked.”

He found the ticket with the correct date and set it aside.

Flipped the red Chanel handbag to send its content scattering onto the marble counter and fancy stovetop.

Made sure he found all of the remaining lottery tickets and put them into a pile.

Ticket-winner whimpered. A frail sound.

Henry neatly stacked the tickets next to the bottle of Grey Goose.

Ticket-winner moaned; an arm twitched.

Observing Ticket-winner out of the corner of his eye, Henry stuffed all of the lottery tickets into his briefcase, making sure the winning ticket was separate from the rest.

Jammed what remained on the counter back into the red purse.

On a whim, Henry snatched the bottle of vodka and added it to his briefcase.

Ticket-winner moaned in pain. Waved an arm toward him, sensing his presence.

The choice was simple: leave Ticket-winner alive and there was no way to safely claim the winnings.

Could he do this?

Rico, no way.

Henry, no prob.

He looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

Ticket-winner made a guttural sound that reminded Henry of Gram.

Opened his eyes and stepped around Ticket-winner and hefted the trophy to feel the balance again and, not looking at her face, finished what he came to do.

***

Looking like a young business lady, Henry strode out of the home of Ticket-winner and walked to the car and drove back to the storage unit.

Removed the wig and clothing and stuffed all that he had been wearing into a garbage bag, which he crammed into a backpack.

Wiped his face of makeup.

Backed the safe car into the enclosure and loaded his clothes and the plastic bin to ensure a fast getaway.

Put on bright, bike-ride clothing and a silly, colorful helmet.

Pulled shut the steel door and secured the lock.

Hitched the backpack over his shoulders and coasted away.

Henry had the beater car parked safely nearby, but desperately needed the release of physical activity; he would return for the car later.

North of Worthboro, he had a couple hours of cycling ahead.

Pedaled past a fancy, planned neighborhood of rich worker houses; cruised past stretches of smaller and plainer worker houses; drifted by the entryway to a warehouse set back from the road; telling himself that nobody can catch a ghost.

The wind in his face as he wound through a stretch of woodland and pasture relieved some of the tension.

Spotted an unattended dumpster and ditched the trash bag.

Further on, he stopped at a convenience store for hydration and grabbed a Mega-Mega playslip.

The fine print on the back explained that all single-ticket prizes over $1000 must be claimed at lottery headquarters or a regional office (any retailer that sold lottery tickets had the option of cashing prizes of $999 or less).

There was a single phone number listed in bold for all inquiries.

Once back at Luci’s apartment (she would be at the restaurant for another hour), Henry showered and put on a fresh outfit and sat on the sofa.

Found himself staring at his reflection on the blank TV screen, where, amazingly, only 10 hours earlier he had first seen the face of Ticket-winner.

Forced the old woman from his thoughts.

Focused on the upcoming conversation; weighing the different admissions and omissions he could allow into the story.

Practiced a few sentences of an accent-less New Englander and called the lottery number on the back of the playslip.

A female voice: “Hi, you’ve reached lottery information, my name is Rachel, can I help you?”

Henry: Hi Rachel, I have some questions about a lottery ticket.

Rachel: Yes sir, good afternoon, how can I help you?

Henry: Well, I think it might be a big winner.

Rachel: Congratulations sir. Do you have the ticket in your possession?

Henry: Yes, in my hand.

Rachel: Wonderful. Can you tell me the game that was played?

Henry: Mega-Mega Money.

Rachel: Thank you sir. Can you tell me the date of the drawing? That date that appears in the middle of the ticket, just above the playing numbers?

Henry: Yes. It was, uh, 5-3, uh, May third, 2005. (Laughs) Tuesday night. I told myself to wait at least a day before I called.

Rachel: Yes sir, you may be surprised at how often we hear that. Sometimes people even like to wait a few days, you know?  Can you please tell me the seven numbers played on the ticket? The six game numbers, plus the bonus ball.

Henry: Three, seven, 16, 23, 28, 30. Six is the bonus.

Rachel: (Chuckling) Oh my sir, well, as I think you may suspect already, that is a match of five out of six numbers, plus the bonus ball. That is a million dollar prize! And our system here shows an unclaimed winning ticket was played on that date with those numbers so, well—congratulations!

Henry: Thank you. I really can’t believe it.

Rachel: Yes sir, I can tell you that’s common as well. Might not go away until you have the money deposited in an account.

(Not giving Henry time to respond)

Rachel: Now sir, your next step is to bring the ticket here to lottery headquarters.

Henry: Can’t we do this over the phone, anonymously?

Rachel: (Speaking quickly) No sir. That is not possible. To officially claim the winnings of a large prize, any prize over $1000 you must present the ticket or a copy of the ticket you received from the store. Your identity is not released, by the way so you do remain anonymous. But you must bring that ticket here, in person, to lottery headquarters. You must also bring two forms of personal identification. At least one picture identification, such as a license or state issued id or a passport. The second form of identification must be either a social security card or birth certificate.

Henry: Wow, all that, huh?

Rachel: (Laughs) Uncle Sam wants those taxes! And so we are very strict. A current—not expired, mind you—government issued form of identification with your picture on it and either your social security card or birth certificate. And then there’s a standard background check, which usually requires two, full business days.

Henry: Background check, eh?

Rachel: Yes sir. For large winnings the lottery verifies that you have no outstanding warrants and that you are not listed as delinquent on alimony or child support or any other such similar warrants. And we also report your winnings to the IRS, which may do its own set of checks. Federal and state taxes are applied before you receive all large-prize winnings, by the way. We can go into that further when you come in. As long as the initial background check clears, typically, you can count on getting your money in three business days, at which point the money is wired to an account of your choosing.

Henry: This is very exciting.

Rachel: Yes sir, I see that your ticket was bought at a store location in Worthboro. Is that where you live?

Henry: Yes. Worthboro.

Rachel: Excellent! We’re the next town over. About 10 miles north of your lovely town center. Do you have something to write with?

Henry: Yes.

The conversation continued until Henry was clear on all the steps required to claim the winnings.

The call ended and Henry sat on the couch, unmoving.

Stared at his reflection on the TV.

He had the means to become Henry again, not a ghost by that name, but the real Henry, from Poughkeepsie.

There were no warrants in his name.

He didn’t owe anyone money.

Henry had never filed a tax return in his life and wondered if that might be an issue.

But he did have a social security card and a copy of his birth certificate tucked away in the storage unit.

He could get a new, official identification.

But using a real identification exposed him to the world and for Henry, remaining a ghost was more attractive than even a million dollars.

Luckily, the Lottery pledged to keep all winners anonymous. Everyone knew that. All that mattered was having a winning ticket and as long as you cleared the background bullshit, the money was yours.

No one cares what you do with it afterward.

Henry left the apartment as Rico again, heading to the florist to pick up flowers before Luci got back from her shift at the Cozy Nook.

Flowers would make convincing her for a million dollar favor that much easier.