The Lottery Winner

Chris questioned the wisdom of this choice, again, a few minutes before the massive blast. He sat in his seat, in the stark room, listening to the radio, and looked out the window at the scentless ocean scape of emerald green five hundred feet below. He thought, “Who would have thought that winning the lottery would have brought me to commit this act?” His personality and degrees in Critical Thinking forced debate with himself, again.

The big win, one chance in one hundred million, had the extremes of rewards and burdens. Chris no longer worried about any debt and trashed ninety-nine percent of his mail. Car, credit card, and rent payments were no more. Food, clothes, power bills, and other fundamentals of this world were no concern. Medical insurance had been eliminated and quality healthcare guaranteed. Hard work and world class coaching had resulted in superior health and fitness to rival any Olympian. The lottery, by chance, had provided the means to be free. “Well, free of sorts” He mumbled to himself.

The burden of winning the lottery was larger than he had ever thought it would be. He felt like he stood-in for Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulder. Every day was lonely. He had lost his parents and his unborn brother years ago to a car accident. The girlfriend couldn’t cope with his winning the lottery and the change it had manifested. She left him. “How could love turn to hate so fast?” he asked. Then, He mentally lied to himself the empty catechism, “Winning the Lottery changes people, their circumstances, their lives, and those that surround them forever.”

Suddenly, the truth burst and splattered his psyche as it always did at this point of debate. The chance of one ticket drawn had become the catalyst of veracity that exposed his naked self. Chris whispered to himself, “I am a selfish coward.”

Analysis to Reflection, part of his process, had brought him to the decision he had made and there was no turning back. He had come to the realization that he loved no one except those that were gone. He missed his parents and would never know his brother. There were times he had fits of rage that they had left him behind.

He tried to reconcile his loss through Christianity with the promise of Heaven. The ministers didn’t like his analytics much and abandoned his investigation calling him an intellectual zealot. “So much for love.” He cantered.

He railed through Judaism to understand from Rabbi’s what laws had been broken to require such recompense. They were a bit reactive to his challenges and he didn’t want to blame a lamb.

He had settled with the comfort of Buddhism and his own interpretation of the Four Truths. It fit him because Buddhism describes reality in terms of process. Chris, the critical thinker made that work, his way.

First, existence in suffering, he had experienced that. “Check!” he spoke. Second, suffering has a cause, craving and attachment. “Check!” he barked. “Negligent drivers killed my family and she’d dumped me.” he accused under his breath. Third, there is a cessation of suffering called Nirvana. “Check!” he breathed. “Yet to be determined,” He thought. The coming violence would soon prove it right or wrong. “Process, process, process.” He hissed. And fourth, there is a path to the cessation of suffering. “Check!!!” he ordered. Chris wanted to be on this path. He had chosen a fiery one.

Buddhism had utilized an eightfold path and Chris had reduced it to one. That is all he needed. One path, on one very expensive custom made seat sitting on an explosive device comparable to four million pounds of TNT.

It was time. The question answered, again. Chris decreed in judgement to the audience of his own mind, “My wisdom is sound. Let future generations judge my final act here on this earth, I don’t care!”

His hand, cold and shaking, but determined, reached and flipped a switch on the console to his right and laid back into the seat. He heard the rumblings and felt the first tremors of the compact metallic room swaying, unsure of its foundation. He took a deep breath, prepared for the massive dispersion of energy, and allowed the radio clamor to channel to his mind now forced into neutral. The speaker rattled out a militant voice, “Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Ignition, Two, One.” Then over a massive explosion.

“We have lift off!!!!!”

Chris roared to the heavens above him, his Nirvana,

“Mars, here I come!”