The Ticket

The ticket

Leonard and Becky threaded their way over to the bar where Bill and Michele were sitting. The men bumped fist, the girls hugged each other. Leonard checked the wall of screens and saw that Churchill Downs was at two minutes to post, and of the ten horses running, the one horse and the five horse were running under even money. Bill bet the trifecta one, five, seven. Leonard bet five on five to win. The girls ordered drinks. Becky hung her purse with the winning ticket in it on a hook under the bar.

Bill said, “Leonard, did I see you pick the numbers on a single lottery ticket? Don’t you usually buy five quick picks? Did you ever finish that program you’ve been talking about?”

Leonard laughed. “I wish. The storm last night smoked the board I was working on. Set me back at least two weeks.”

“Then what’s with the ticket?”

“Just a test. The software generates random numbers. I wanted to compare them against an actual lottery drawing and see if the distribution looks right.”

Bill frowned. “And that tells you something?”

“Sure. If too many numbers match, something’s wrong with the algorithm. If they don’t, the probability curve is probably behaving itself.”

Bill shook his head. “You always did find strange ways to entertain yourself. If you ever get that program to work, you’ll remember your friends, won’t you?”

Leonard glanced at Becky. For a moment neither of them said anything.

Suddenly, the screen showing Churchill Downs flashed to the starting gate.

“They’re off!”

Leonard leaned forward. “Come on, five, you hay burner. Run.”

The five horse settled into the middle of the pack as they thundered down the front stretch.

“Run, five, run.”

Into the first turn the order was two, seven, five, six, one.

“Come on, five!”

Down the backstretch the lead changed hands between the two, seven, and five horses.

Leonard gripped the edge of the bar.

“Run, you stupid hay burner!”

Around the final turn they came, the seven and five horses pulling away from the field.

The crowd on the television roared.

At the wire the seven and five hit almost together. Then the two crossed

“Photo finish,” Bill said.

A few moments later the replay appeared.

The seven horse had won by a nose.

“Shit.”

Leonard ripped up his ticket and tossed it onto the bar. Then he took a long swig of his beer. He hated losing, but then he thought of the ticket in Becky’s purse and smiled.

Bill laughed. “Well, don’t you look like the cat that got the canary. Usually when you lose a bet, you look like somebody kicked your dog. What’s with the smile?”

Becky glanced at Leonard and knew exactly what he was thinking about. She frowned.

As Leonard cleared his throat, Bill caught the look on Becky’s face.

“Okay, that’s it,” Bill said. “What are you two up to?”

Leonard laughed. “Nothing. I got a letter from the IRS this morning.”

Bill raised an eyebrow. “And that made you smile?”

“Unexpected refund. Nothing huge, but enough to make me feel a little better about paying taxes all these years.”

Becky nodded. “He was grinning like he’d won the lottery.”

Leonard chuckled. “Trust me, if I’d won the lottery, you wouldn’t be buying your own drinks.”

Bill snorted. “Fair enough.”

Michele shook her head. “You two are weird.”

“We’ve been told that before,” Becky said.

Becky reached down for her purse to get a dollar to play the trivia machine that sat at the end of the bar. As she rummaged through purse it fell from the hook under the bar

It hit the floor hard and burst open.

Lipstick rolled across the tile. A few receipts fluttered out. Her keys clinked against the stool leg.

Leonard was already moving before he thought about it.

“Careful—”

But it was too late.

Becky knelt quickly, gathering things with one hand while holding the purse open with the other. “It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Bill chuckled. “You’d think she dropped a diamond necklace.”

Leonard didn’t laugh.

Becky’s hand paused.

She looked up at him.

Then she looked back down inside the purse.

A small silence opened between them.

“Leonard…”

His stomach tightened. “What?”

Becky shook the purse once, then again, slower.

Nothing came out.

She set it down and checked inside more carefully, pushing things aside.

The color drained from her face.

“It’s not here.”

Leonard stared at her. “What do you mean it’s not there?”

“The ticket,” she whispered. “It’s gone.”

For a second, the bar noise seemed to fade.

Bill frowned. “What ticket?”

Leonard didn’t answer.

He was already looking at the floor.