William
spoke up, laughing at the little drama as he said, “Son, take your ice cold
drinks home to your sick momma and pick up that money; maybe you can use it to
get the A/C fixed. If anybody could manage that prestidigitation,” he
concluded, “my money is on you, kid.”
“Mr.
Sam,” he addressed the hapless clerk as he patted the boy on the shoulder,
“I’ll have tonight’s winning Red-White-and, Blue lottery ticket---and…put this
young man’s purchase on my bill.” He winked, suddenly feeling good, like all
his burdens had been magically lifted by his charitable gesture; funny, he had
not felt so good in a very long time.
Maybe
there really was something to that old saw from his childhood: Virtue is its
own reward! Anyway, the events brought a genuine smile of satisfaction to his
face; it felt “Good”!
“Timmy,”
William said to the urchin, handing him a hundred and a twenty dollar bill
folded neatly over his business card, “this C-note is for your mother; make
sure she gets it---all of it; the
sawbuck is for you. When you graduate high school, or, college, come see me,
I’ll have a sales job for you. That was the best slight-of-hand performance I
think that I have ever seen.
“Bravo!
Young man! Bravo! You will do very well in this old world, my little friend.”
Timmy
smiled a “Thank you!!” as he made his exit; Sam handed William his lottery
ticket.
Glancing
at the chance-for-Salvation, William’s eyes widened in disbelief at the
Super-ball!
“Well!
Well! Sam!” He smiled. “Just look-y here. I think my luck really has changed! A
red-7 for the Super-ball! Damn! I believe that my number has finally come up!”
He
shook the clerk’s hand as Sam returned the smile; he liked to please his
customers.
William
returned to his spiffy red sports car convertible, still laughing at his new-found
protégé’s acumen and his own turn of seeming “Good luck”. He felt good; like
all was right with the world. He could handle anything. Funny how the big issues could evaporate in the space
of another’s challenged trial, real or imagined.. William spied the boy
approaching the corner ahead of him; Timmy was looking at his huge cache of
wealth; the light was against him but the young man did not notice and he
errantly entered the intersection with reckless abandon.
William
panicked as he pulled to a stop at the line, having a red light. He yelled at
Timmy.
The
lad had stepped into the driving lane of the narrow one-way cross-street when
he heard a warning voice yell “Look out!” at the same instant he heard the
truck tires squeal on the concrete pavement. Wide-eyed, the boy looked up to
see a large cargo panel truck almost on top of him; he froze in sheer panic,
unable to react.
The
driver swerved to miss the pedestrian as he slammed on the brakes, locking them
up.
He
managed to miss the little boy but when the left front tire hit the curb, the
truck driver over corrected, steering too hard; the transport tilted
precariously, balanced for an instant as though it might elude gravity and land
on its wheels, then, it gave up the battle as it leaned on its side, the large side
panel advertising the state lottery Red! White! And, Blue! game emblazoned with
a bright, glossy “Red-7” painted on it falling directly onto a shiny red
convertible.
William
never knew what hit him; his last thought: Concern for little Timmy’s
well-being; his final sight in this world: The dreaded “terminal”-hope! His
“number” had, indeed, come up!
Ah!
The Saints among us! Even, Angels, too! And---for sure…Damnable Demons! Amen!
(Part 4 of 4 Tomorrow)
