For those of you who haven't read the story "The Lottery," you might want to look it up and read it before you read this, as I am about to share with you how the Lottery came to an end...
The Destruction of the Lottery (Part I)
It’s been a month since Mama’s been gone now, and things just ain’t right. Bill Jr., the oldest of the Hutchinson family thinks to himself as he sits out by the creek under a setting sun. His favorite thinking spot has been more of a burden lately as he recalls his mother’s words. Something she said seemed to have settled kind of hard on him since that day. “You didn’t give him enough time!” The words echoed in his heart and mind. We all knew the chances, but who’d a ever thought it’d be my own Ma? As if on cue, a small fish jumps out of the water just in front of him, catches a bug that had lit near the water and vanishes again into the creek.
“Bill! Hey, Junior! Come on in! It’s supper time!” he hears Nancy call from the kitchen window, breaking his train of thought.
“I’m a comin’!” he yells back as he picks up his worn gloves from the bank. He walks thoughtfully back to his house looking for signs of ‘Her.’ It seems that Widow Watson has been by quite a bit the last few weeks. I guess a man needs company after all. He thinks to himself as he sees the Watson boy walking up the road towards him; a sure sign that his mother is not far behind, if she isn’t already there. “Hey Paul!” The tall boy waves unenthusiastically. Or is it fatigue? He has been pulling a double load just trying to take care of his mother. Not that she doesn’t pull her end; it’s just that Paul seems to be doing the brunt end of it. It’s awful hard living up to your father’s legacy of one of the hardest workers in town. Now that his mother has been around lately, hope seems to be lifting him up. He changes course to meet up with Paul, and the two boys dust off their feet together, swapping small talk about how their crops are fairing. They open the door to the smell and sound of comfort and disappear out of the warm afternoon air.
* * *
“Hey Bill!” Bill puts down the sharpening file and looks up to see Mr. Summers walking towards him down the aisle of the hardware store. “What brings you in here so early?”
“Thought I had a spare file to sharpen the cropper’s blades, but I guess Dave used it up trying to keep the lawnmower workin’ fine.”
“That’s some boy you have there. And speakin’ of boys… Are my eyes decievin’ me, or has Mrs. Watson and her boy been comin’ round your house the last few weeks?”
Bill picks up the file again and rolls it in his fingers. “Well, guess there ain’t no secrets round here are there?” he said, wiping his chin in thought as he and Mr. Summers approached the register.
“It’s a good thing you’re doin’ Bill. Paul’s a hard worker, and Mrs. Watson is a right fine cook.”
“Well she’s won me over there.” Bill said as he paid for the file.
“I don’t want to keep you from work, but will I be seein’ you at the dance on Friday?”
“Sure will.” he says over his shoulder as he walks out and to his truck. He gets in and starts up his old Chevy, then looks over at the seat where Tessie used to always sit. He could almost see her sitting there talking her mouth off about the dances and how much they brought life into the town-folk. Gently, Bill sets the file in her seat and then drives away from the store. What he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh one last time. “We all have to do our part to make sure there’s a good crop comin’ in.” he reassured himself aloud, as he felt his faith waiver for a moment. “After all, it’s just like Old Man Warner said, ‘Lottery in June, crops comin’ soon!’… We all have to do our part.”
* * *
Time flew by over the next few months for the Hutchinsons and the Watsons. The Hutchinsons got help from the Watson boy in bringing in their crops, and they helped him in return. There was lots of food to can, so Nancy and Mrs. Watson were kept very busy. But, in-between it all, there were dances and harvest festivals to attend. And who could forget the holidays? It seemed, for a time, that the memory of Tessie was far behind all of them.
The next Lottery came and went. By that winter, it was obvious that Bill Hutchinson was going to marry Mrs. Watson. Everyone was talking about it. Even Old Man Warner couldn’t help but nose his way in on the plans. He would often be heard saying, “There’s good fortune in this! Mark my words! When two Lottery families unite it puts things right, and next season’s bound to be twice as pleasin’!” When the wedding came around, it was a big to-do, and many were already making plans at the reception for what they’d do with their extra produce and crops. The only one not showing much enthusiasm was Bill Jr. Though he tried to hide it, he didn’t much like the idea of his Pa marrying again.
“Bill, come back here!” Nancy said as Bill Jr. started to walk away from the reception in haste. He had just seen his father kiss the former Mrs. Watson and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Junior, wait!” Nancy called again, racing to catch up with her brother. Just outside of the light of the party she catches up to him and grabs his shoulder. She stops in surprise to see tears running down an angry face. “What’s got you so riled up that you have ta go stormin’ off so fast?”
“Can’t you see Nancy?” he asked as he turned to her.
“See what?” she asks as she searches his face as if to find some clue.
“Pa’s only marryin’ her for her cropland and for the fact that the Watson boy’s got two more years till he’s legal an on his own!”
“Junior! Yain’t got no right sayin’ things like that!”
“Why not? It’s true ain’t it?” Nancy begins to turn away, but this time Bill swings her to face him. “Look at it Nancy! I turn legal next year an Pa’s gonna be short one hand when that happens. Who’s he gonna get to help with his crops? Paul, that’s who. An look at Mrs. Watson…”
“Mrs. Hutchinson! She’s our Ma now!” Nancy barks back at him.
“I ain’t ever gonna call her Ma, Nancy. She’ll never be my mother. We only ever had but one before, an now she’s gone!”
“Oh, Junior! You’re mad I say!”
“Mad’s right! But I’m mad for a good reason. Do ya ever think about some of Ma’s last words?”
“Well, not really… I mean, once in a while they come back ta me, but I don’t think nothing of em. She was just scared is all. We’ve seen lots a people do ‘bout the same thing before.”
“Yeah, but ain’t never been one of em from our family now has there?”
“Well, Pa says that...”
“Yeah, I know. He says that his Ma was sacrificed in the Lottery too. But I’m talkin’ bout now! There ain’t never been one we’ve seen ‘cept for Ma, now has there?”
“Put that way, no I ain’t never seen one from our family go.”
“Doesn’t it hurt a little? Doesn’t a part of you wish Ma was here, just ta hear her ramble on just one last time ‘bout how her family never had a single Lottery in it?”
“Well, sure, but…”
“But nothin’! What if next year it’s Davey that pulls the Lottery? What ya gonna do then?” Nancy stands looking him in the eyes with a bit of fear on her face. Then, if by command, the rain starts pouring down all around them. Their eye contact is only busted by the people cutting between them, headed towards the shelter of the barn. Bill turns and walks back to the house, leaving Nancy suddenly scared and alone.
* * *
The next year was, to say the least, busy for the Hutchinsons and their new family members. Junior never warmed up to his new Ma, but he got along all right with the Watson boy. “Work does that to men,” as Old Man Warner would say. But it was obvious from the way that Junior was talking that, when he was legal, he’d be on his own.
Another Lottery came and went. Junior’s good friend, Jonathan Blume, was “the one” that year. Junior never even picked up a stone. He just stood there as the crowd rushed by lie a pack of lemmings, acting as if one mind controlled them all. Junior didn’t speak for quite some time after that. The first words out of his mouth were about his plans to be moving out on his eighteenth birthday.
Like all young men in town, Junior had been saving up since he was able to pull his own to buy himself a piece of property. One evening he announced that he found a piece of property near Beaverton, about forty miles from home.
“Sounds nice Junior, but what are ya going to do out there all by yourself? How’re you going to pull in your crops?” asked his father.
“Well, Pa,” these were the first words he’d spoken directly to him since the wedding, “I was thinking that alls I really need is a small crop to start off. I mean, it’s just me an all… at the moment.” Something in the way he added that last comment made Bill Sr. look up in surprise from his supper. His fork hit his plate and a smile skimmed across his face.
“At the moment huh? Well, boy, speak up! What’s her name?”
“Oh! Is it Suzy Taylor?” Nancy asked all excitedly. “She’s had her eye on you for some time Junior!”
“Suzy?” Junior squeaked with a look of dread on his face.
“What’s wrong with Suzy?” she asked in objection.
“Nothin’ ‘gainst Suzy, but if I married her it’d be like marryin my own sister!”
“Junior!” Mrs. Hutchinson exclaimed with a small smile on her face.
“It’s true. She’s over here often enough that I practically helped raise her myself.”
“Then who is it?” little Davey inquired.
“Well,” Junior began, looking around the table. He couldn’t wait to see the shock on all of their faces. “You don’t know her ‘cause she don’t live here.”
“So property ain’t the only thing you’ve been a shoppin for in Beaverton is it boy?”
“No, Pa. She ain’t even from Beaverton.” This comment got everyone leaning in on the table.
“Well, then where is she from?” asked Paul.
“Her names Charlotte, and she’s from California.” Everyone at the table gasped and Junior leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head in satisfaction. A smile lit up his face.
“Son,” Bill Sr. had a look of strong concern on his face as he leaned across the table to look Junior in the eyes. “Son, those California folk…”he rubs his face searching for the words, but can only think of one way to ask what he wants to ask, “Well… how’s she feel about the Lottery?”
“What’s that s’posed to matter Pa?”
“Well… Word is they don’t do the Lottery out in them parts.”
“Pa,” he says getting to his feet, “since when has marriage been about the Lottery? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Goes both ways now doesn’t it boy?” Bill snapped back without even thinking.
“Well, Pa, guess it don’t matter what Charlotte thinks about the Lottery now does it? As for you getting married an all… I guess it does go both ways, now don’t it? But I hold my tongue only for my real Ma’s sake. She raised me better than ta blatantly disrespect an all.” He pushed in his chair and looks at Mrs. Hutchinson. “May I be excused?”
“I think its best.,” she says, as she holds Bill Sr.’s hand firm on the table.
* * *
Before long, it was all over town about how Bill Jr. was going to be marrying a California girl. Many of the older people in town began to eye Junior like he was some sort of renegade out to destroy life as they knew it. Others of the more younger crowd saw him as an adventurous youth and often were caught saying things like, “Give him a bit, he’ll get over this soon and things’ll turn back right.” But inside the hearts of all, there was that unknown feeling that something big was about to happen besides the wedding.
That winter, Junior turned eighteen. The day after his birthday, he purchased the land in Beaverton, which was apparently owned by Charlotte’s uncle and so he got a real bargain on it. Many were impressed by this purchase. Even his father commended him on his choice of land. But that didn’t deter the town’s uneasiness about the upcoming wedding.
Old Man Warner was the sounding voice for most of the towns concerns. Every day that the marriage got closer, he seemed to have more foreboding things to pronounce upon it. “Mark my words, those non-believin’ Californians get one of their own here, then along will come another, then another. Then what? I’ll tell ya what! They’ll send us all back to caves before any of us can shake a stick!”
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