A Place for Magic

In the hazy blue light of dawn on a cool morning, there was calm. She breathed in deeply with her eyes closed. These precious early moments of the day felt like her alone time with the city. These moments - before throngs of people emerged from their apartments seeking transportation and jobs and coffee and human connection in a world that feels increasingly isolated. Right now there was no mayhem - only the stirrings of others mad enough to start their day at the crack of dawn and brace themselves for the hustle.

Even the bus that she had been waiting for seemed to roll in gently, as if respecting the early hour. She boarded, settled in with her coffee cup, pulled a small black notebook out of her leather bag, and began the morning ritual.

A thin ribbon marked the page where she left off. Review this morning’s schedule. Take a sip of coffee. Write down today’s goals. Another sip of coffee. Attempt a doodle. Was that a poodle or a wonky cloud? Well, drawing was never her strong suit anyway. A few more sips. And finally, read something from the pages filled with quotes, passages, and writings that inspired her. Today’s choice was a brief quote from her father.

“You lose when you lose the will or ability to continue. You win when you’re the only one left in the game.”

Approaching her destination, she began to gather her things. Just as she was sliding the notebook back into her bag, something resting on a seat nearby caught her eye. It was a scratch card, the kind you pay a few dollars for in the grocery store or gas station, hoping that one lucky card will return something big.

“Ha - spend five dollars to make four and then keep coming back” she scoffed. “That’s how they get you.”

She left it sitting there. She didn’t need such a thing. Her life was built on hard work, dedication, and consistency. Scratch cards were a game destined to be lost.

Yet there was something about it, just lying there on the empty bus in the early morning. In bright blue and gold lettering it read, “Feeling Lucky?”

A cosmic taunt.

The bus rolled into the next stop, and she stood to leave. She passed by the card, waiting for the back door to open. Her heart fluttered. Leave it. The back door swung out. In the final moment she reached out and swiped the card before lunging out of the bus. Whatever would come from it though, there was no time for that now. Her day was starting. She slipped it into the small pocket built into the front cover of her notebook.

A place for magic and secrets, she always thought.

And then her busy day began in earnest.

Hours of work and several more cups of coffee later, she stumbled onto an evening bus, exhausted. Though her early morning schedule allowed her to avoid the crowd, her commute home landed her in a familiar hub of late workers. She moved to the back for a seat. Time for the evening ritual - writing down the events of the day to assess what she could have done better. Pulling her notebook out, shiny blue and gold lettering caught her eye. The scratch card; she had completely forgotten about it during the hectic day.

Ok. She thought. You have my attention.

She foraged around in her wallet for a dime.

Match your number to the winning number, win the prize for that number.

She scratched off the winning numbers column: 9, 21, 34

Then she began to scratch each space, one by one: 3, 12, 11. The next row: 8, 22, 33.

Of course; make it one off from every winning number.

She scratched through the 3x4 grid. At square 8, she uncovered a 21. The corresponding prize: $5. Oh good, just enough to buy another scratch card. Approaching the final square, she laughed at herself. Just as I expected.

Scraping off the final shreds, a 9. Woo, maybe enough to buy two more scratch cards. She moved underneath for the prize amount. First she saw a 10. Then another zero. And then another. She blinked hard. Uncovering the last zero, the total amount read $10,000.

She snapped the notebook closed suddenly around the card. The passenger sitting across the aisle glanced up, giving her the annoyed eye of a fatigued traveler. Face flushed, she slowly opened the notebook and peered down again. There was no mistaking it. The number 9 in her grid, matching the winning number. And under that, $10,000. For a few seconds her mind was completely blank, still shocked from what she was seeing. And then it began to reel. The things $10,000 could give her! She could pay down her student loans. Take a beautiful vacation. She thought of her partner. Of all his prudent saving in hopes of buying them a home one day. What $10,000 would be to the down payment of a house! The driver announcing her stop cut through her daze. She clasped the notebook in her hands, grabbed her bag, and floated off the bus. The wind rustled crunchy orange leaves around her feet. And suddenly she found herself at a bodega, a little corner store near her apartment.

She pushed open the door. A few people milled around, picking up frozen meals for a late dinner or a Red Bull to fuel a night of creative thinking. She slowly walked up to the counter, where the owner stood organizing candies and gum.

“How can I help you tonight?” he asked, with just a hint of an accent that she couldn’t quite place. His silver beard stood out against deep olive skin.

“I…I have a scratch card to cash in,” she said timidly, almost as if it was a question. This is where people do that, right? Do I just walk out of here with $10,000?

“A lucky day!” he said, smiling. “How wonderful. Let’s do it.”

She slipped the card from its hiding place in her notebook and handed it to him reluctantly. He took it, one eye on it and the other on his register. Then she saw him do a double take at the card.

“A very lucky day, it seems!” he exclaimed. “Miss, I have never seen a win this big with my own eyes. $20,000. How unbelievable.”

“Uh, no…I think it’s $10,000,” she said, lamely.

“Well your number is $10,000. But do you see how it’s in red here? When you match your number and it’s red, you actually win double the prize number.”

She stood still, speechless.

“You can’t actually collect this money here. It’s such a great prize that I can’t help you! You have to go to a lottery office to claim this,” he offered helpfully, handing the card back.

She wanted to speak, but her brain glitched. The owner stood patiently, smiling at her. Finally, feeling embarrassed and awkward, she blurted out,

“Could I get that chocolate bar? And this magazine?” She grabbed blindly at the magazine rack, holding one aloft. Splashed across the front: Luxury Homes Magazine.

“Dreaming big already, I see.” He chuckled heartily. She flushed. How ridiculous I must look right now. He rang up the items. Lingering for a moment after the transaction was finished, she heard herself ask the owner,

“How long have you had this store?”

“Thirty-five years!” the owner said. “What a blessing, eh? It has put two kids through college after I came here from Egypt.”

“Lovely,” she said. “Thanks for your help.” And she stepped back out into the evening.

Why me.

There are so many things I want to do in life.

But did I deserve this?

Finally, she arrived home. Her key hit the front door lock; she swung it open and found her partner standing there.

“My love, you’re home,” he said, reaching to embrace her. She clasped him tight, not sure how to tell him what had happened that day. He immediately sensed something was off.

“What’s wrong?”

Imagining he wouldn’t believe her words, she simply pulled out the card and handed it to him. He glanced down; his eyes bulged. He stood in silence for a few moments, then looked back up at her with a shocked smile on his face.

“Darling…do you realize what this means? Do your realize what this can do? There’s so much I’ve hoped for us, so much we’ve worked for. This is incredible.”

“I know…it’s amazing.” she said feebly. Fatigue was setting in.

“Let me get you some dinner and we’ll watch a show. Your pick. I know you had a long day.” he offered.

“You already know my pick,” she teased.

“Modern Family?”

“Modern Family.”

Soon they were seated on the couch with plates of hot food and the TV ready. In the episode she picked, the character Gloria expresses guilt at marrying a rich man.

“In my old life, I worked for every penny.” she says. “My life is so much easier now. I feel a little ashamed.”

Working for every penny. That’s how it should be.

“I think you’re looking at this all wrong,” her companion responds. “You worked hard for years without knowing things would get better, and then the universe rewarded you. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The scratch card stared at her from the coffee table. She looked back at it.

You’ve worked hard for years not knowing how it would go. The universe rewarded you. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“Hey, let’s decide how we’ll use the money.” her partner said suddenly, jogging her out of a trance. “You should use some for your loans. And then let’s look at homes!”

“Ok. But whatever we do, leave me $100 for a special project, ok?” she said.

“Of course.”

A week later she stood at the bus stop, a fat stack of scratch cards held tightly in her notebook. Before the bus rolled in, she wedged the first card into the bus stop bench. The bus made its polite, early morning approach. Stepping on, she settled into her seat with her coffee and began the morning ritual. But this time, it had an extra step. Before the trip was over, she set three cards on the empty seats around her. Throughout the day this pattern continued, until she had emptied her notebook of all the cards.

On the bus home, she closed weary eyes and thought back to buying them the night before. When she had returned to the bodega, the owner recognized her immediately.

“Back for more luck?” he teased.

“Something like that,” she said. She went to the counter and picked out scratch cards, one after another, choosing a variety until she reached her cash limit. The owner rang up the purchase.

“Well, good luck again!” he chuckled.

“You too,” she said, handing him two of the cards she had just picked out.

“Hmm?” he looked confused. “What’s this?”

“Hopefully the universe rewarding some hard work,” she said. Just as he was about to take them from her hand, she remembered something.

“Wait! Hold on a second.” she pulled out her small black notebook. Slipping the two cards into the pocket, she closed the notebook around them for moment. A place for magic and secrets.

“What’s that?” the owner gestured at her odd act.

“Oh, just a ritual.” she said. She handed him the cards. “Good luck, my friend.”

The bus jostled over a pothole, and she opened her tired eyes. A sudden urge to write down the dreamy events of the past week overtook her. She pulled out her notebook once more. She paused. Where did this all begin? Finally she had an idea, and began to write.

In the hazy blue light of dawn on a cool morning, I felt calm.