Going For Broke

All Joey Stemple ever wanted his whole life was an even break. Lady luck was the answer to his prayers he knew, and he never stopped harboring the belief that his luck would change at any moment.

Approaching retirement age with not much to show for time served, the time had not been kind to him. A life spent mostly alone except for a sister and brother-in-law with two adorable teenaged kids,

Joey used most of his spare cash on a wing and a prayer; scratch tickets. “I can’t be a loser forever, surely”, he thought, so he continued to visit his favorite convenience store every day after work. In his pants pocket, he carried his lucky nickel, the one with the face of Lady Liberty on it. A few times when armed with that specific silver piece, Joey had cashed a modest bonus. Now it never left his side.

He searched every evening for that life-changing moment right at the store counter, confident that one day, he will cash in on a small fortune. Joey doesn’t take notice of the sympathetic and adoring face of Dierdre, the shop’s owner. Like Joey, Dierdre is also alone in life but try as she might, she just can’t get Joey to bite on the obvious cues.

He’s too fixated on winning ‘the big one’. The ritual begins with Joey scanning the board full of tickets. He chooses carefully and draws out the lucky nickel. His heart races faster every time he sees two pictures of the grand prize, but the third picture, the one that means a big win never appears. Dejected from the inevitable outcome, Joey leaves Dierdre behind in her shop to go home and dream some more.

Never giving up hope his day will soon come, and as if by a stroke of fate, Joey received a hot tip from an office colleague one day. “A one hundred percent guaranteed lock”, Ricky tells Joey. “He’s running on Thursday’s race card. Grab as much cash as you can muster together and put it all on the number 2 horse in the sixth race at Woodbine.”

On the day of the big race, Joey watched the wall clock with frustrated anticipation as the clock slowly wound toward 5 p.m. quitting time. Each tiny movement of the minute hand is agonizing, as Joey waits in anticipation of his big payday.

As if bursting from his own starting gate, Joey grabbed his coat and ran down to his bank branch to make a withdrawal. He puts his card in the ATM and punches in his access code.

“INSUFFICIENT FUNDS” was the LED reply.

Nearing a panic state, Joey ran to another bank where he believes he still has a tiny sum of savings deposited. A small sum to wager with was better than nothing, he figured. He enters the vestibule and steps to the ATM. As Joey leans in to insert his bank card, he notices a thick wad of cash protruding from the machine’s slot. He looks about quickly to make sure no one else can see. He is alone in the vestibule and the money lays there waiting for the taking.

More cash than he’d ever seen before at once, fans out in his hands. Fate was smiling on Joey this day, finally. Several thousand dollars in large bills would have provided a small nest egg for Joey to build on, but he had a premonition. This money was a sign. His ticket to financial independence had just dropped into his hands.

Joey walked quickly to the off-track betting site, being careful not to draw attention to himself. Carrying such a large amount of money made him anxious and nervous. He waited for a quiet moment at the betting wicket to approach and make his wager.

“Nine thousand, nine hundred to win on number 2 in the sixth at Woodbine”, he said to the clerk. Joey held back a hundred for incidentals. Without batting an eye, the man behind the window accepted the money and handed Joey his ticket. No questions were asked. The clerk had seen it all before, and he probably thought this is the last he would see of this sad little man after his money disappeared.

Perspiration was forming on Joey’s brow as he made his way over to the seats by the large television screens. He found a comfy easy chair near the back of the room and sat down heavily into the worn leather seat.

Joey’s gaze turned to the large tote board on the sidewall. He searched for his race, seeing it was only two minutes to post time. This was the first time Joey noticed the name of his horse, or the odds being offered on it. It never occurred to him to check first.

Number 2 in the sixth race at Woodbine Racetrack: EASY STREET, was paying forty-five to one. Another omen? Joey stood to win almost half-a-million dollars.

Joey struggled to hide his excitement. He concentrated hard on trying to relax. Clutching his ticket tightly in his left hand, pressed against his lucky Liberty nickel, he ordered a drink from a waitress and paid her with a remaining hundred dollar bill. A stiff drink would help to calm him, he thought.

The waitress said, “I’ll be right back with your drink and the change, hon.”

Joey’s eyes became transfixed on the huge screen that broadcast the feed from Woodbine racetrack. The field was being brought to the starting gate. A cold silence fell around the room. The only sound to Joey’s ears, came from the race announcer’s voice, barking through the television speakers.

Twelve horses were loaded into their stalls and suddenly, the gates burst open. A dozen combatants thundered out onto the track and made their way for the first turn. Easy Street hung to the rail, falling into fifth position behind the early speed. As they rounded the top of the oval, Easy Street began to slip back in the field a little more.

The horses gradually began to separate down the backstretch and Joey’s horse, mercifully, moved off the rail. At the third turn, Easy Street began to make his move. Joey’s nag went three-wide now and swept around the lead pack as they turned for home. “DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!”, bellowed the race caller.

Number 2; Easy Street came alongside the favorite. Jockeys on both horses went to their whips as the two sprang away from the rest of the field. Then, as if in slow motion, Easy Street started to pull away.

The racetrack’s crowd could be heard now on the loudspeakers, yelling and cheering as the number 2 horse crossed the finish line some three lengths ahead of his closest rival.

EASY STREET was a surprise winner for everyone in the wagering room. Disgruntled patrons started to leave the premises. Totes went about their business, preparing for the next race.

Joey remained slumped in his chair, clutching his winning ticket. The waitress arrived and put Joey’s drink down on the table beside his chair. Without looking at him, she set down his change as well and left to fetch more drinks.

Joey’s head slowly drifted sideways and his lifeless figure let go of all his pent up tension. The drama of the day had taken its toll. No one noticed as Joey’s life slipped away.

His left hand opened slowly, and the bet slip fell to the floor with a flutter. The silver coin bounced lightly on the carpet and came to rest at the leg of the side table. Just then, the front door of the establishment swung open and a breeze wafted in. Buoyed by the sudden wind, the paper chit lifted off the floor and flitted out the door.

The winning ticket floated down Main Street in the evening light.

It would take several more minutes before the waitress noticed that Joey was dead. She called out to her boss to come quickly. She thought about scooping up the change from the drink but decided she should wait.

Then she noticed the coin on the floor. The waitress leaned down and picked up the nickel. Turning it over curiously in her palm, the manager arrived to see what she had in her hand.

“Is that a Liberty head nickel?”, her employer asked.

“Sure looks like it”, she said. “Is that rare?”

“I’ll say”, replied the boss, “you’ll probably be retiring from here with that find”, he said.

In the twilight of existence, EASY STREET remains as fickle as the wind. Anyone catching it, may not even be aware of what they have found. Some are a little more fortunate and hold on when it appears.

This story originally appeared on Medium by Stuart Englander

I hope you enjoyed reading it.

All tips are gratefully accepted for my future musings.

Please follow me on Twitter, LinkedIn, and Quora