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Down in the Dirt v059

this writing is in the collection book
Decrepit Remains
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Decrepit Remains, the 2008 Down in the Dirt collection book
What He Wished For

Boyd Lemon

    Ron was fidgety from his second cappuccino, as he sat on the edge of his chair looking across the street at the art deco hotel he and his niece were staying in. The cappuccino was the richest he had ever tasted and the aroma inside the café almost made him salivate each morning, while his niece, Christine, slept. He had brought her to Rome as a high school graduation present.
    Christine had asked for a day to herself, so he was free. He paid, and strode out the door, maintaining a fast pace toward no consciously planned destination.
    Deep in thought about his niece, he was adding up numbers in his head, which he excelled at, trying to figure out how he could help Christine go to Julliard. Mandatory retirement from his job as an air traffic controller was looming, which pleased him. His life had been frantic—a high pressure job, two divorces and three children. He just wanted a peaceful, uncomplicated life, for a change—reading, the theater, a little golf, travel when he wanted to—things he loved but rarely had time for. But, he sighed heavily. The numbers didn’t add up. To be of much help to Christine he’d have to win the lottery.
     He stopped abruptly, realizing he was at the Trevi Fountain. Without thinking, he reached in his pocket, made a wish, and tossed a Euro in the center section. It splashed and disappeared. Funny, he thought, he didn’t believe in such things.
    Later, he left a message at the hotel for Christine, suggesting they meet in the lobby at eight to go to dinner. She sat in the corner of the lobby reading a novel. She looked more like Ron than her father or mother—tall, thin, dark hair she kept short, a round face with a thin nose, long for her face. She had prominent dimples on both cheeks which she displayed when she saw Ron and smiled.
    She ran up to him. “There’s a famous Italian pianist playing down the street tomorrow night. Can we go Uncle Ron? Please.”
    Ron pretended to be thinking and then smiled. “Yes, of course, dear.”
    “Awesome,” she said, giving Ron a hug.
    At dinner, Ron was quiet. Finally, he said, “You really want to go to Julliard, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, they’re the best, and they accepted me. There are cheaper schools, but I don’t want to compromise when it comes to my music.” I’ll go into debt and worry about paying it back later.”
    “I just hate to see you run up so much debt you can’t pay it back.” Ron grimaced and shook his head. “I want to help, but I have to retire next year, so I can’t help much.”
    “I know Ron. I will appreciate whatever you can do, and you are so generous to take me on this trip. Thank you. Thank you.”
    “You’re very welcome,” Ron said.
    “I wish my parents could help, but I guess that just isn’t going to happen,” she said.
    “No, I don’t think so. They’re barely making ends meet, as it is. I keep hoping your dad’s auto parts store will take off, but I don’t think he can compete with the Napa’s of the world.”
    They finished their desserts, and Ron asked for the bill.
     “What are you grinning about, Ron?” Christine asked.
    “Well, I made a wish for you this morning at the Trevi fountain.”
    “You did? For me? How can you make a wish for me? What was it?”
    “I can’t tell you what it was, or it won’t come true,” he said.
    “Yeah, right. Well, thanks, Uncle Ron. Remember what they say, though, ‘be careful what you wish for.’ I hope you were.”
    Back home, Ron handed the Seven Eleven clerk a dollar and asked for a lottery ticket. He glanced at the sign behind the counter, “$68 million.”
    A week later, he pulled out his wallet to buy a latte at Starbucks and saw the lottery ticket. He had forgotten about it. When he got home he rummaged through the newspapers that had accumulated and found Sunday’s paper, turning to the page that displayed the winning numbers, “6, 23, 35, 37, 38, 42, 48.” His ticket read “37, 38, 6, 23, 48, 35, 42.” Wait a minute, he thought, I have a lot of them. He compared his ticket to the first three in the paper. Yeah, I have them. He looked at the next three. I have them, he thought. His hand began to shake. His chest tightened. He compared the numbers again. He ran into the kitchen and picked up a pen. He wrote down the numbers in the newspaper. On another piece of paper he wrote down the numbers on the ticket. His hand was shaking so much he could barely read them, but they matched.
    He dialed Christine’s cell number. She answered. “Christine, come over right away. I have something to show you.”
    “Ron, I can’t. I’m working. I only answered because I saw it was you and thought it might be urgent.”
    “It is urgent. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” said Ron. “See if you can arrange to take a break. It won’t take long.”
    He grabbed the paper and put the ticket in his wallet.
    “Christine,” he said when they got to the employees’ lounge of the music store where Christine worked, “look at those numbers.” He handed her the lottery ticket. “Now compare it with those numbers.” He handed her the newspaper and pointed out the numbers. “Are they the same?”
    Christine looked back and forth several times. “Oh, my God!” She screamed. “Is this your ticket?”
    “Yes, you...”
    “No way! Ron!” It can’t be true.” She smiled with her whole face, dimples in full splendor. Her eyes filled with tears.
    “Remember, I told you I tossed a coin in the Trevi fountain and made a wish for you.”
     “Yeah,” she said.
    “Well, I wished that I would win the lottery so I could put you through Julliard. When we came home, I bought a ticket.”
    “Every scam peddler in the world, and there are tens of thousands, will contact you to persuade you to invest in their scams as soon as this is public,” said John, a lawyer who specialized in advising lottery winners. You’ll also hear from every more or less legitimate investment advisor, stock broker and insurance salesman, explaining why you should invest a sizable portion of your winnings in whatever will give them the biggest commission. Everyone you’ve ever met will now consider you a dear friend, and will desperately need financial help or have some scheme they want you to loan them money for. And you’ll never know who your real friends are; so be careful. You have to protect the money you’ve won. Otherwise, it’ll all be gone in a year or two. That’s what happens to most lottery winners.”
    The next two days were a blur of meetings with John, a tax lawyer, a tax accountant, another accountant and three investment advisors. John advised him to have his phone disconnected, have his cell phone number changed, quit his job, sell his house and move to a rental in a different city.
    Over dinner John told him, “It’s a full time job to manage this much money safely and properly so that it doesn’t get eaten away in taxes and bad investments. You either have to manage it yourself, or you have to pay somebody you trust to do it, but you still have to monitor the manager, because with that much money, in the end, you can’t trust anyone.”
    Despite the new cell phone number and new address, Ron was pummeled by dozens of calls and emails every day. He quit answering his phone and reading his emails. He hired a 24 hour service to guard his front door to keep people from pounding on it. His days were filled meeting with lawyers, accountants and investment advisors. His nights were spent reading legal documents and worrying about the money.
    He thought a celebratory dinner with Christine would be fun, but there were so many well wishers at the restaurant in the small city he had lived in for 20 years, they couldn’t eat their dinner. As they sat in his car in McDonald’s parking lot eating their dinner, he told her he was setting up a million dollar trust to support her and pay for her college expenses at Julliard, with the principal to go to her when she graduated.
    “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “‘Thank you’ seems inadequate, but it’s all I can think to say.”
    A cousin he hadn’t heard from in 15 years called. She said her husband had Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, but they had no insurance and no money to pay for the treatment. She had heard Ron won the lottery, and wanted to know if he could give or loan them the money for the treatments. Countless former friends and acquaintances left voice mail messages or wrote with similar tales asking for money to solve their problems.
    “When will all of this intrusion into my life settle down?” He asked John during one of their almost daily meetings. “Never,” said John. “The nature of the intrusion will slowly change, but you’ll still have the money to manage.”
    At a family dinner at his daughter Amy’s house with his three children, Amy, Jolene and Tom, and Amy’s husband, Brad, when everyone had finished their strawberries and Ben and Jerry’s French vanilla ice cream, Ron cleared his throat. “I want to tell you what I’m going to do for each of you, as a result of my winning the lottery,” he said. “I think you should all hear it at the same time.”
    “Thanks, Dad,” said Amy, the oldest. What are you going to do for Christine?”
    He told them. “Wow,” said Amy. Everyone else was silent.
    “Amy, for you and Brad, I’m going to pay off the mortgage on your house and the loans on your cars and set up a trust fund for my granddaughter’s college education.”
    “Ah, okay,” said Amy.
    “Thank you,” said Brad.
    “Jolene, I’ll buy you a condo and pay off your student and car loans and credit cards. Then I’ll set up a trust fund of $250,000 to supplement your income.”
    “Thanks, Dad,” she said, smiling.
    “Tom, I’ll buy you a condo and a decent car and pay off your student loans and credit cards. When you get your PhD, I’ll set up a trust fund for you.”
    “That’s great, Dad. Thanks so much,” said Tom.
    About a week later Tom came over to Ron’s house and delivered the paperwork that Ron would need to implement his promises. “Dad,” he said, “I wanna give you a heads up on a problem that’s brewing. First, I want you to know that I’m happy with what you’re doing for me, more than happy, thrilled, and very grateful. Thank you.”
    “You’re very welcome, Tom,” said Ron.
    “The problem is Amy and Jolene are really upset about what you’re giving to Christine, which they point out is more than you’re giving to any of your children,” said Tom. “And I don’t really care. As I said, I’m grateful for what you’re doing for me, but they have a point. A million dollar trust is a lot more than what you’re giving any of us.”
    “That’s true, Tom, but I have already paid for four years of college for each of you. Christine is just starting college and has no help from her parents. Her circumstances are different.”
    “I understand, Dad. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on.”
    Jolene called. “I got a call from Amy. She said she’s really pissed at how much money you’re giving Christine. And then she said you were being unfair to her, because what you’re giving to Tom and me is more than what you’re giving to her. When I defended your decision, she hung up on me.”
    “Jolene, what I’m giving each of you differs depending on your individual circumstances. Amy already has a beautiful home and a husband who earns a good salary that will increase as he advances in his career. You don’t have that, so in dollars, yes, I am giving you more.”
    “I understand, but Jolene doesn’t. Actually, Dad, of all the children, you’re giving the most to Tom.”
    “Yes, Jolene, and that’s because he has continuing college expenses for his PhD, his car is falling apart and he has more in school loans than you have. He can only work part time until he has his degree. You have a full time job.”
    “I think it would have been fairer if you had given us each the same amount,” said Jolene.
    The last call came from Tom. “Well, Dad. I hate to tell you this, but now none of your children are speaking to each other or Christine. I don’t know what to say, but I wanted to keep you informed.”
    “I’m deeply distressed, Tom,” said Ron. “I don’t know what to do.”
    “I can’t tell you what to do, Dad.”
    “I know, Tom,” said Ron. Well thanks for letting me know. ‘Bye.”
    Maybe I didn’t think through the effect of treating them differently, he thought. His phone rang, displaying John’s number. He didn’t answer. Moments later the tax attorney called. He turned his phone off. Opening the top cabinet in the kitchen, he pulled down a bottle of Jack Daniels that had been there for months, uncorked it and took a swig. “Yuck.” He scrunched up his face. This is not the answer, he thought.
    He put the bottle back, went out to his car and drove down to the beach. After a long walk, he felt more relaxed and knew he had to do something to change things, but he didn’t know how or who to ask. Maybe John would have some ideas, he thought.
    The next morning he looked at his mail for the first time in a week. At the top in large green letters a form letter from Green Peace headlined, “GIVE AND HAVE INCOME FOR LIFE.” It explained that a donor could give a lump some of money as an irrevocable charitable donation, and Green Peace would hold it in trust and pay the donor five percent of the amount donated per year for the rest of the donor’s life. When the donor died, the money in the trust would belong to Green Peace. Ron had regularly donated small sums to Green Peace years ago.
    He called John and asked if this was legitimate. “Yeah, it’s legitimate,” said John. “But you have to realize, once you do it, the money is gone forever, and your heirs get nothing. You get only that five percent interest a year.” Well, thought Ron, the five percent is more than enough and he honestly could tell everybody he had given his lottery winnings to charity. He would have more than he needed to retire and put Christine through Julliard.
    Ron and John met with an attorney for Green Peace, told him what Ron wanted to do, and afterwards the documentation was prepared. A week later Ron and John met with the attorney and an official from Green Peace. Ron handed the official the signed documents and a check for all his lottery winnings, except for a million and a half dollars. He gave Ron an advance on the first year’s interest.
    When he got home, he mailed each of his children $500,000 to do with as they pleased and explained what he had done. As he strolled out of the post office, his chest loosened and his muscles relaxed. The smile on his face was the first since he had received the lottery money. He felt like he used to feel when he walked out of his last final in college, multiplied by ten.
    Ron and Christine met at their favorite restaurant. When he told her what he had done, and that he would give her the support she needed to go to Julliard, she smiled and hugged him.
    “I know the children won’t understand why I gave all that money away,” he said, “but I hope, in time, they’ll accept my decision.”
    “I think they will eventually,” said Christine, “and you truly will have what you wished for.”



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