MadelineMary peaked through her blinds. She had been huddling on the floor in the dark of the front room of her house hugging her German Shepard, Mitzy. Mary was not particularly a dog person and never saw herself owning a dog, but when the security cameras and alarm systems were not doing the trick, she convinced herself that a pre-trained German Shepard was the solution. But at this moment, Mitzy acted more of a fury blanket than a security blanket.
They must be gone by now. Mary stood up, one leg at a time, using her hands to boost her off her second knee. She still didn’t dare to turn on the light in the front room. Instead she brushed her hand through her short gray hair and walked to the back of the house, turning on the small lamp she purchased to keep the lighting in her house down.
She filled her kettle with water, but decided she needed something stronger. After all, it seemed as though everyone she knew was now after her. Herbal tea was not going to do the trick.
She opened the cabinet above the refrigerator, a lone bottle of Wild Turkey from when her son, Phil stood there. He had convinced her to glaze her Fourth of July ribs with whiskey this year. The outcome wasn’t great, but Phil thought so, and she was happy to do anything that made her only son happy. The rain on the window panes reminded her of how much had changed since that day.
She pulled a chair over and teetered on top until she grasped the whiskey. She climbed down, a bit winded and then moved to grab a short glass from the cupboard. She changed her mind and grasped a tall water glass instead. Glug glug glug as she poured.
Mary sat in the breakfast nook of her new house, took a sip, and looked out at the light glowing from in the pool. She took another sip. Some of the whiskey sloshed out onto the wood table but she paid no mind. She sat there for a good long while, Mitzy obediantly by her feet the whole time. Then sleep came over her.
Mary woke with a dryness in her mouth she was not used to. She forced herself out of bed to the bathroom sink and splashed water on her face. Mitzy jumped off the bed and followed behind her. It was another day of this.
Like clockwork, the phone rang at 8am sharp. But she didn’t dare answer.
The day was a big question mark. She retired unexpectedly last year, bought a house too big for herself in a neighborhood she never dreamed of living in. She was supposed to be living her best life, inviting people over, going to the movies, traveling, not hiding in her big house alone.
Ten months prior, Mary bought a lottery ticket. And Mary won. Mary didn’t usually do that kind of thing. One of the girls at the office, Barb, convinced her to do it after a bird pooped on her in the office parking lot. How that was luck, Mary didn’t know. But spending a dollar on a long shot wasn’t going to break the bank. So, on her way home she stopped by a liquor store, asking for a single ticket.
Then she won. A whole $26 million. That amount of money is life changing. And it did change her life.
Within days, everyone she ever met was calling her. It started with Phil and then her extended family. Then Barb claimed Mary owed her for convincing her to buy the ticket to begin with. And before you know it, a woman from her fourth grade class was hitting her up on Facebook.
Mary eyed the bottle of Wild Turkey she left on the counter. It was amber from the sun shining through the window. Was it too early to start drinking? Although the idea of drowning her sorrows sounded like a great idea, this was the only bottle she had. And then what? Mary had to face her fears.
The phone rang again and she ignored it. Instead, she opened her new Macbook she gifted herself. She logged into her bank account. And gave Mitzy a scratch as she peered down at the number before her. She had $168 left from all the millions of dollars she got to keep after taxes. Enough for a trip to the grocery store and maybe an electric bill. She could live on this for two weeks. A month if she was really good.
Her computer dinged and she clicked on the Facebook tab and gathered the courage to read the incoming message.
“Hi Mary! It has been so long. I heard things are going well for you. I don’t know how to ask, but my son is not doing well. He was diagnosed with Leukemia last month. The bills are so high, Ben and I are just not sure how we are going to pay them. Is there any way you can help us? Thanks, Kristy.”
Who was Kristy? Below the message was a picture of a small pale boy in a hospital bed. He gave a weak smile at the camera.
Mary clicked on the small picture next to the message to reveal a young blond woman with a man and a healthy child who resembled the child in the message. She did remember this girl. She was a classmate of Phil’s. The boy was adorable, but how could she help this child? She could barely help herself. She winced and clicked on the message before.
“Hi Mary. My car broke down…”
Then the next.
“Mary. Could you donate…”
And the next.
“Hello Mary….”
She clicked one after the other each time hearing dollar signs ring in her ear. She clicked on the first message she had read that morning, from Kristy, “I’m sorry. I would like to help. But I can’t.” And clicked the send button. If only she didn’t buy the kid down the street a bike. If only she didn’t buy a car for her son. If only she didn’t give money to any charity that asked. If only then, she might have something for this little boy who could actually need it.
She felt defeated. She stood up from her kitchen table and walked towards the bottle of Wild Turkey, her last option for feeling nothing. She reached for the bottle and the phone rang.
A high pitched scream came out of her 107 pound body. She stomped with all her might over to the phone. Picked it up and screamed into the receiver, “What the fuck do you want?”
“Ugh,” the voice on the other end hesitated, “Hi Mary. This is Darleen… From across the street… Of your old house. How are you doing?”
“How does it sound like I’m doing?” Mary grumbled.
“Okay,” Darleen said, talking herself up more than accepting Mary’s grumble. She continued, “My daughter has been having trouble selling Girl Scout cookies and I was hoping you could buy a bunch of boxes… like a hundred?” Her voice went up at the end in hope.
“A boy is dying and you want me to buy Girl Scout cookies?” Mary slammed the phone down. She breathed heavily, not sure what to do now. There was a power brewing inside of her that was not there before.
At that there was a knock on her front door and Mitzy barked. Yesterday she coward from the door, but today she was ready to face it. She stomped over as fast as the arthritis in her knees allowed her, swung the front door open and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Fuuuuuck Yooooouu!” Her index finger pointing straight up to the sky and staring at her knocker dead in the eyes.
“Wow lady,” a young man in a brown vest and long brown sleeves beneath stood in front of her. Rain rolling down his cheeks and his mouth agape. “I’m just delivering a package.” He held out a brown box to her with a single hand. She took the package with both hands as he held his hands up and walked backwards to his brown truck parked on the street. It was heavier than she expected from the way the delivery driver held it, but she had become weak in her age, so what did she know?
She closed the door behind and grabbed the letter opener from the console table drawer in the foyer. She began to walk towards the kitchen, but then changed her mind. The front room was the most comfortable place to sit in the house and so that is where she will sit, facing the window in full view of the outside world.
She looked to see who it was from. There was no return address, just Mary’s address in neat familiar writing. Mitzy gave a whimper. “Shhh…” She told the dog as sliced the tape of the box open with her letter opener.
Inside was a tin box covered in holiday decorations. When she opened the box there was folded lined paper taped neatly laying on top. She removed the paper and opened it slowly and began to read:
“You should have given me what I asked for. Love, Phil”
Then she heard ticking. Like a clock. She looked down to see what else was in the box. There was a mess of wires coming out of a metal tube and red numbers facing her counting down. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Boom!
The UPS driver, just four houses down, turned around in shock. He thought to himself, that angry old lady had had enough. He ran to his truck to call 911.
