Lottery (21 page)

“Hi. I’m Perry. What’s your name? You look like my Gram,” I say.

“I’m Myrtle. Is your Gram here?” She looks around.

“No, she’s back in the hotel room. She’s dead,” I tell her.

Myrtle raises her eyebrows and her mouth falls open. She looks better after I tell her Gram is just ashes in a box now.

“We aren’t going to spread her around though,” I say.

Myrtle calls me unique. Unique means you are not like other people in a good way. It is not like different, which means you are not like other people in a bad way.

We talk about war.

“I think war is bad. People get killed. That is my opinion.” Gram always told me to tell people my opinion.

“Perry, make sure you say it is only your opinion. Remember everybody doesn’t think the same,” Gram would say.

“Yeah, war is bad all right.” Myrtle has to wipe wet out of her eyes.

Blue, shiny pieces of oil bubble up from the wreck. They look like puddles in the rain when cars drive through them after the sun comes out. All ripples and full of shimmers.

During the bus ride back, I ask Keith about war.

“Keith, you were in a war, right?”

“Yeah.” He has wet in his eyes too.

“What’s it like?” I ask.

“You don’t want to know,” he says, and leans his head back against the seat.

“Yeah, Keith. Yeah I do.”

He turns to me and his voice is thunder. “No, Perry,” he says. “
No you don’t.
”

I sit and think.

And I think it is Keith who doesn’t want to know.

32

I learned three things in Hawaii.

One, that people like me because I won the lottery. Two, that you can do things you want to do even if you’re dead. And three, if I want Cherry to be my girlfriend I will have to buy her presents. I learned that last thing at the airport. You can learn a lot at an airport.

We were waiting to get on the airplane and Keith and I were looking at all the cool things for sale like coconuts you can mail and shark jaws. I saw a girl who looked just like Cherry. She had blond hair, not colored like Cherry’s. She was taller and had a bigger nose, but she had earrings in her face and tattoos just like Cherry.

“Hey, that looks like Cherry,” I tell Keith.

“Look at the guy with her. He’s old enough to be her fucking grandfather,” Keith growls. He is trying to peek inside a coconut bra on a plastic hula girl.

The Cherry-girl is trying on bracelets and smiling.

“Sometimes that’s the only way a guy can get a girlfriend,” Keith tells me.

I get an idea.

“Do you think Cherry would like this?” I show him a necklace.

“Sure, yeah. Girls like that kind of shit.”

I bought Cherry the necklace and a box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts.

Keith bought a box of pens that—when you click them on— make a hula girl naked.

That is cool.

I was way too tired to bounce on the plane. I felt like I had used up all my fun for the rest of my life. I thought about this the whole trip back. That all of us are given so much fun in life, kind of like brains. Some people save theirs until they are old and some people use it all up at the beginning of their lives. I’m using my fun up in the middle. That is so cool.

I was back two days before I saw Cherry. I went to get a Slurpee, but she had the day off. I had to buy another Slurpee the next day.

“Hey, Cherry, I’m back from HAWAII!” My sunburn is peeling off my forehead. Keith said everybody would either think I went on vacation or had a grungy skin disease.

I hope Cherry does not think I have a disease.

“I went on vacation and got you something.” I hand her a white and green plastic sack that says HAWAII on it. She smiles when she sees the chocolate. She smiles even bigger when she sees the necklace. I help her put it on right there in the store.

“Awesome! Thanks.” She has to bend down next to the metal wall of the refrigerator to see how the necklace looks around her neck. She could have asked me. I would have told her she looked beautiful.

“It’s called puka shell. Puka means hole. Ha!” I think that is funny.

Cherry says she thinks it’s funny too. She grabs me by the neck, pulls my head over, and gives me a big smacking kiss on my cheek.

Keith was right. Presents are a good way to get a girlfriend.

When I get home later, I have to sit on Gram’s couch and bounce I am so happy.

33

Mike Dinelli comes into the store on Thursdays to make sure I am all right. On Thursday afternoon, Gary plays golf and has lunch with his brother-in-law Leslie, which is totally a girl’s name even though he goes by Les. I do not tell him this. It would not be nice. Keith goes to Pacific Marine Supply for our orders. He has more responsibility now. That is what Gary says.

John calls to see if Mike has come by and asks for a check.

David calls to see if John has called and asks for a check.

Elaine calls to see if David or John has called and tells me to send her a check.

Louise just calls and asks for a check.

Mike gives me a card with his name on it each time he comes. Sometimes he brings me lunch. He always brings me a giant bag of Hershey’s Kisses. It is so cool that I do not need to buy them anymore. The bags have to go in my refrigerator because I cannot eat the Kisses fast enough. It is not good to eat too much candy.

I can’t go out to eat lunch with Mike because I have to watch the store with Manny. He says we can just stand and talk. “We need to get to know each other, Perry. I’m a friend of John and David’s and want to be your friend too.”

“Okay,” I say.

He is a protector and wants my Power. He brings a piece of paper each time he comes.

It is for Power. That is what he says.

I do not want to give my Power away when I am working at Holsted’s. I am too busy.

Manny runs the register and helps customers at the same time. We can get a lot of people on Thursdays. I look through catalogues to find stuff for the store.

“So, Mr. Crandall,” Mike says, and laughs.

“Perry. Call me Perry,” I say. This is our joke. I told him when people call me Mr. Crandall it makes me feel like I am in trouble, and so he teases me. This is a good tease. I like it when I have jokes with people. Keith and I have lots of jokes.

“My company has a specific plan for lottery winners who have selected the annuity option. It allows access to the money now instead of waiting for the yearly payments. Both your brothers think it would be a wise investment for you.” Mike looks hungry.

“Do you want to buy a cookie or some coffee?” I ask. He does not ever eat with me even though he brings food.

Now that Holsted’s has a corner for drinks and snacks, all the fishermen come in. They sit in chairs, drink coffee, and talk with each other. Gary complains that they never buy stuff, but I know they do. They are taking up all the seats so we have to stand while I finish my lunch. Mike buys a cup of decaf. I think decaf is stupid. I mean, the whole point of coffee is to keep you awake, but I do not tell him this.

“It’s a good deal for you, Perry. We would actually be doing you a big favor. You could invest the cash and earn a lot more.” Mike’s voice stays very low. He keeps looking at the door like he expects it to open.

“How much money would you give me?” It is so funny. People always want to talk about my lottery money more than I do.

“Well, we take the rest of your payments and you would get four million cash right now.” Mike talks fast, his pink gums show.

“But I won twelve million.” Four for twelve does not sound fair.

“If you do it any other way you will have enormous tax consequences. Enormous. This way, since you could invest all your money at once, it’s really to your advantage. You need to talk to your brothers and Elaine. They all think it’s the best plan.”

When he says that word
advantage,
it makes me think of Gram.

Each time Gram heard that word, she would tell me, “Whenever anyone ever says
it’s to your advantage,
Perry? It is to theirs. You remember that. It’s really to theirs.”

“Well, I don’t think that would be fair to you. I mean it would be unfair of me to take advantage of you just because I won the lottery. You probably ought to invest your money for yourself,” I say. He is my friend. You do not take advantage of your friends.

Gram would be proud of me. Mike does not look happy. In fact, he looks like he needs a Tums.

“Hey, Mike. You need a Tums?” I ask. I worry. Mike is my friend and I do not want my friends to be sick.

This is always when Mike stops talking. When he sighs loud and when he leaves.

He looks like he has worries.

One time he said the F-word. Even though it was real soft, I heard it. I have two good ears.

“It’s not nice to say the F-word,” I told him, and he apologized. I do not say this word out loud, but lots of people do. Like the paper-boy who throws the Sunday paper and it misses the mat. He yells the F-word. Or if Keith is just talking, he says F-something practically every sentence. Gram always warned that she would wash his mouth out with soap. She would too. That is what she did to me whenever I said a bad word. She said being drunk was no excuse for being crude or rude. That is what she would tell Keith.

But I know I am not crude or rude. Ha! That rhymes. I just noticed. Rhyme means sound the same, like Cherry and Perry.

Anyway, it was naphtha soap. She would use it to wash my mouth out. It is brown and tastes just like brussels sprouts if I ate them, which I totally do not because they make me throw up. Naphtha soap made me throw up too, so Gram only threatened to wash my mouth out if I did anything dirty. That was all she had to do. She was so smart.

When Keith came back, Manny told him I had a visitor. He is such a tattletale.

“Who was it, Per?” Keith wraps up his beer in a brown paper sack so he can drink and wait on customers at the same time.

“A guy named Mike. He is a protector.”

“You need to stop talking to these guys. It’s going to get you into trouble. Did he give you a card? What’s his name?” I give Keith the card Mike gave me. He gives me one each Thursday. I have plenty.

“What the fuck’s a protector?” Keith gives me a look that makes me happy he is my friend. I know he thinks he has to watch out for me just like Mike, but I can watch out for myself. Keith takes a long drink of his beer, crumbles the card up, and tosses it into the trash.

I have Power.

Mike says.

34

Marleen called this morning,” Keith says. "She’ll be out at three. We can take off work early and talk to her on
Diamond Girl
.”

"Marleen?” I do not know a Marleen.

“She’s that reporter,” Keith says. “Remember? She’s doing a story on us.”

Now I know why he is wearing a tie and clean pants.

Gary is not upset about us taking extra time off for our interview. “Advertising, Keith!” he says. “Make sure you talk about the store and make sure they get the address right in the paper. Here. Give her a Holsted’s Marine Supply pen and key chain.”

“Hell, I’ll give her five!” Keith says.

Marleen is tall, has a deep gravelly voice, and wears jeans with a flannel shirt. She has heavy black boots like Keith’s that she unlaces and removes in order to come onto
Diamond Girl
. No one is supposed to wear boots on boats because they make black marks on the fiberglass. Marleen looks a lot like Keith. Her hair is the same gray-brown pulled back into a ponytail just like his.

“Hi, Perry. I’m Marleen. That’s Arleen with an M.” She shakes my hand hard and squeezes my fingers together until they tingle.

I laugh. “Ha! I’m Perry with a P!” I say, and rub my fingers so the feeling comes back. “Hey, I’ve seen you on TV!”

“You probably have. I do features on the news.” Marleen smiles at me.

I whisper to Keith, “A TV star. Cool!”

Keith looks disappointed and whispers back, “A dyke, Per! Just my luck!”

A dike is both something to keep back water and a girl who likes other girls instead of boys. That is interesting, I think. A dam is strong and holds back water. Maybe that is why girls who like girls are called dikes. They must be strong. Marleen is nice. I count the hairs on her chin while she talks to me.

“People take advantage and jump to conclusions, I see . . .” and her voice trails off like the end of a song. She says
I see
sixteen times. I know because I keep track.

Then she asks the wrong thing.

“So do people treat you differently when they find out you’re retarded?”

I do not say a word at first. If I were a cartoon, I would have steam shooting out of my ears.

“I don’t know. Do they?” Spit drops fly out my mouth. I am really mad.

"Well ...” Marleen looks at Keith. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Bingo!” Keith says. He pinches out his cigarette and tosses the end overboard. “Per’s not retarded. He’s slow. That’s different than retarded.”

“What’s your number?” I ask Marleen. My hands are shaking.

She looks confused. “You mean my phone number? What do you mean?”

“No. Your number. My number is 76. I am not retarded. What is your number?” I ask.

“I don’t know my number.”

“Ha!” I say. “Then how do you know you’re not retarded?”

“I’m not.”

“How do you know?”