Thousands to Be

Lila sat on the stained couch and drew a slow breath. The lottery ticket shivered in her hand. The glow from the muted television reflected off the small paper, highlighting the numbers that matched the screen. All the numbers were identical, yet Lila stared ahead unfocused.

In the bathroom, Lila slid the ticket to the bottom of a tampon box, then tucked it away behind toilet paper rolls under the sink. Twice during her shower, she got out to adjust the box, double checking it wouldn’t tip over, or get wet if the sink pipes leaked again.

The old computer blew warm air as it ran. Lila clicked to view lottery offices on a map, and wrote an address in a little black book. She minimized the tab and chewed her bottom lip as she looked at the background, a blurry picture of Lila and a man hugging on a beach. Her long blonde hair was cut short now, once plump cheeks now weary. Heavy footsteps shuffled outside the front door. Lila hastily cleared the Internet’s search history and ran out of the room.

Sam, a heavier set version of the man in the blurry picture, shook his coat off and let it fall to the ground. Keys, wallet, loose change, and receipts rained from his pockets as he turned them inside out. Lila silently bent to collect the pile in her hands, gingerly holding her outstretched fingers to contain everything. Sam brushed past her and knocked into her crouched frame. She lost her balance and the pocket contents so they clattered to the floor.

“How was your day—”

“A case of Stella this time. Cans, not bottles. Bag of Doritos.” Sam opened his wallet on the counter, knocking askew the organized pile. He thumbed past a few fifty-dollar bills.

“Repeat it back to me.”

Lila repeated his list.

“Good,” he said and held out a twenty-dollar bill.

Lila didn’t take it so Sam grabbed her hand and slapped the bill into her palm.

“Take it and go.”

“It isn’t enough,” she said.

Sam shook his head and reached back into his wallet. He snatched the twenty from her open hand and replaced it with a fifty. “Bring back the change.”

Lila turned away to leave but Sam caught her hard by the arm and spun her to face him again. “Understand me?”

Lila nodded, and looked away, breaking his glare.

“I need a receipt and the change. Don’t fuck it up. Get back here before eight.” Sam pushed her towards the door and grinned as she stumbled a few steps.

It was dark when Lila returned. She looked up, barely making out the television light through the blinds. The balcony was dark, unlit with Christmas lights unlike the neighbors’. 7:56. She reached to the back for the groceries but a shadow broke up the light that shone in and she froze.

Jesse, their neighbor, crossed in front of Lila’s car. She wiped the sweat from her upper lip and got out. Jesse spotted her and gave a wave which she returned.

Lila set the bags on the counter, taking out the beer and receipt. She brought both to Sam who throatily laughed at the television. He set his empty beer can down, took the one from Lila’s hand, and read the receipt.

At the dinner table, Sam didn’t look up from his phone when Lila set the bowl of soup down. “Do you think maybe we could—” A phone ring cut Lila off and Sam answered it.

“Hey, what’s up. Right now? No, I’m free, I’ll be there soon,” he said. Sam got up and knocked into the table, his soup bowl tipped over on its side. The conversation continued faintly in the next room. Sam returned, sweeping past Lila, with a jacket thrown over his shoulder. The door slammed shut.

Lila picked up a knife off a cutting board and the sponge from the sink’s edge. She squinted at the flickering kitchen light then gasped and looked down at the blood drops mixing with water.

Rag held tight with one hand, the other hand pushed past soap under the bathroom sink, searching for bandages. Behind it, the tampon box. Lila sat back on her heels, then rose up on her toes. She swiveled side to side, elbows on knees, then bounced her leg a few times. She stood up, turned to the door, but crouched once more and reached for the box.

Lila stuffed it to the bottom of a bag along with water, a hairbrush, an extra set of clothes, and a torn picture of a greying beagle. She snatched the still warm map from the printer, and the little black book which held a few dollars. Her eyes caught the glowing desktop screen and pulled the door shut, but waited to leave until the glow peeking under the door finally went out.

Lila reached up to knock on a door, adorned with a cranberry filled wreath. A light inside flipped on, illuminating the edges of the door frame.

Jesse wore an apron, stained with red sauce, and he smiled down at Lila. “Hey stranger, long time no seem yeah?”

Lila laughed nervously. The air coming through the door smelled of garlic and basil, and Lila’s stomach growled, reminding her she didn’t eat any of the soup. “Yeah, sorry it’s so late but I have a favor. Could I maybe borrow your car? Sam’s got ours and I forgot to get something at the store for the dessert,” she said in one breath.

“Oh, what is it?” he said, “Maybe I have it, I was just in the kitchen myself.”

“Um, raspberries,” Lila said. Jesse’s eyes lit up and his mouth opened, but Lila cut him off. “Raspberry butter, I mean.”

Jesse’s eyebrows drew together and he shrugged. “Wait here, I’ll grab my keys,” he said.

Lila smiled at his retreating form. Jesse returned with keys in hand. “Let me know how it goes later,” he said.

“How what goes?” she asked.

“The dessert?” Jesse reminded her.

“Right, yes totally I will,” Lila said. Jesse watched her go and eyed the bag bouncing against her hip.

Lila’s phone glowed for the tenth time. Another missed call from Jesse. The green numbers on the dash read 12:31. Lila turned up the wiper speed and leaned forward in the seat. The white dashes on the road were barely visible through the sheets of rain blowing across the road. A loud bang made Lila shriek and slam on the brakes. The car lost control, and fishtailed between lanes. Luckily no other cars drove close by that time of night, and Lila was able to slow down and pull over.

The tire was flat, a good size split visible. The windy rain matted Lila’s hair to the sides of her face while she threw open the trunk, searching for a spare. Struggling to rip it from its holster, she got it on the ground. The search for a tire jack wasn’t as successful, and Lila almost kicked the taillight but settled for a stomp in the grassy puddles. She climbed inside the car to flip on the hazard switch and reluctantly call Jesse. Just kidding, the battery died.

The wet heat of morning buzzed with mosquitos. Lila half-heartedly swatted at them. Her shoes squished in the grass with every step. She yawned and adjusted the bag to the other shoulder. The next road sign showed a gas station at the exit.

A homeless man sat on the curb and held a sign in one hand, the other propped under his chin. “Lottery accepted” read the sign.

Lila exited the stall wearing the dry change of clothes. She took out the brush to fix her hair and saw a few mosquito bites. She thought about the bug spray at the apartment, then about Sam, then about Jesse, then back to the itching bites. The reflection of herself was smeared, but from what she could see she hoped she looked like a hiking trip cut short to refuel, instead of the runaway car thief she felt like.

The gas station lights were dim, and made the hot dogs rotating on the rack look greyer than usual. The cashier behind the counter adjusted the radio dial. Lila took two Pop Tarts off the shelf, and a bottle of blue Gatorade from the fridge.

Lila sank down to the curb in front of the ice box, and took her shoes off. Water splashed out, followed by a thin stream as she wrung her socks out. Her feet were pruned and blistered. The homeless man watched. “Rookie huh?” he said.

“That obvious?” Lila said. She wiped sweat off her forehead, and brushed hair off the back of her neck.

The man fanned himself with his sign. “You got that fresh walk look,” he said, “Your first walk in the rain?”

Lila slid back into the socks, deciding not to leave them sitting in the sunlight for fear of ants. She cracked off the Gatorade cap and chugged down a few gulps. “I have a home,” she said. She shook her head at her words. “A place to stay. I’m just working for a better one.”

The homeless man stroked his beard. “Same here, sister,” he said, “Tryna pick me up a looker. A real wild cat.”

Lila laughed and laced her shoes up, then tossed the man a pop tart. It hit the sign in his hands and she looked away. He looked down at the sign and then at her. “Oh, I see,” he said, “Don’t let it go to your head you hear? I won’t hesitate spilling to the press that you eat un-frosted Pop Tarts.”

Lila shouldered her bag and smiled a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Mhm,” he said.

Lila’s neck glowed with sunburn. No trace of the rain from hours ago. She looked up at the sound of a door slam.

“Going somewhere?” Sam asked, “Why the hell haven’t you answered your phone?”

Sam stomped over to Lila, frozen in place. She cut a look to the highway, at the cars that zoomed past. “It died—”

Sam ripped the bag from her shoulder and shook the contents into the dirt.

Lila didn’t react. Then the tampon box sailed out and bounced into the road. She lunged for it, but Sam was quick and snatched it from the asphalt. He raised it in the air and squinted down at her. He wrenched the box open, then peered inside. He held the ticket gently in one hand, the box crushed in the other.

“Is this. . .?” he asked.

Lila said nothing but plucked the ticket from Sam’s hand and sprinted to the car. Her shoes kicked up dirt, and her hand splayed out as she stretched for the door.

Sam caught up and grabbed her ponytail, yanking her back, and dragged her behind the car, out of sight. His jaw was clenched, and his knuckles whitened in a fist.

Lila stared up at him and hoped an ounce of goodness in Sam would manifest itself, though it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. “I tried to—”

“You tried nothing,” he said. He crouched down to hover over her. “You mope around at every little thing you deserve. So just shut it.”

“I—”

“Shut. It.” Sam stood up, kicked dirt across Lila’s face, then got into his car and drove off.

The dust settled, but Lila stirred it again as she sat up and spit dirt from her mouth, swiping her eyes with fingertips. Sam’s car had disappeared from sight. For good measure, Lila turned away from traffic, and reached down into her shirt. She pulled out a lottery ticket. She tucked it away again and started to walk on, appearing as dejected as Sam had left her, but she smiled to herself still.