BOOK CHAPTERS By Stuart Englander
Seasonal Allegories: Chapter 2
From O. Henry to Rod Serling, and other short stories in between
Chapter 2
This collection is dedicated to the loving memory of my late mother Ruth; always a weaver of a good tale.
Going for Broke on Easy Street
All Joey Stemple ever wanted his whole life was an even break. Lady Luck was the answer to his prayers and he knew that one day she would shine on him. He never stopped harbouring the belief that his luck would change at any moment.
Approaching retirement age and with not much to show for time served, time itself had not been kind to Joey. 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 favourite convenience store every day after work. In his pants pocket, he carried his lucky nickel, the one with the face of Lady Liberty on one side. On a few, rare occasions when armed with that particular silver piece, Joey had cashed a modest bonus. Since the last small windfall, it never left his side. Every evening he searched for that life-changing moment staying right at the store counter, confident that one day, he will cash in on a small fortune.
Dierdre, the shop’s owner, adores Joey. She too is alone in the world, and she empathises with this poor, rough but handsome soul as he tries his luck, day after day at her counter. Joey never notices Dierdre’s sweet smiles or bites on the obvious cues she is interested in getting to know him better.
Joey is too fixated on winning ‘the big one’.
The ritual begins each time 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.” Rick gives his colleague an encouraging clap on the shoulder, and before leaving him he says, “This is the one, buddy. Make sure you get in on it.”
Gripped with excitement and impatience, Joey can barely focus on his day’s workload. For two days all his thoughts are consumed with making his big bet. He nearly forgets to visit the convenience store to play his scratch card, but of course, they still don’t produce a winner. He’ll just have to pin his hopes on number 2 in the sixth race…at Woodbine. Yes, he must remember the right track.
On the day of the big race, Joey watched the wall clock almost the entire afternoon, frustrated with anticipation as the clock slowly wound toward 5 p.m. and quitting time. Each tiny movement of the minute hand was an agonizingly painful exercise in patience. Joey’s big payday ticked tantalizingly closer, minute by minute.
As if bursting from a starting gate himself, when the clock struck five, Joey grabbed his coat and ran down to his bank branch to make the cash withdrawal. He put his card in the ATM and punched in his access code.
“INSUFFICIENT FUNDS” was the LED reply.
Nearing panic, Joey ran to another bank where he believed he still has a tiny sum of savings deposited. A small sum to wager with was better than nothing, he figured. He entered the vestibule and stepped to the ATM. As Joey leaned in to insert his bank card, he noticed a thick wad of cash protruding from the machine’s slot. He looked about quickly to make sure no one else could see. He was alone in the vestibule and the money lay there waiting for the taking.
More cash than he’d ever seen before at once, fanned out in his sweaty 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 alone, but now 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 had him anxious and nervous. He waited for a quiet moment at the betting wicket to approach and make his wager. He had no wish to draw attention to himself with such a large wager.
Finally, at an opportune moment of calm, Joey approached the wicket. “Nine thousand to win on number 2 in the sixth… at Woodbine”, he said to the clerk. Joey held back ten hundred dollar bills for incidentals and the off chance his tip was a false one. 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 now 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 that first.
Number 2 in the sixth race at Woodbine Racetrack: EASY STREET, was paying forty-five to one. His horse was the field’s longshot. Joey gasped in awe, and then looked around carefully to see if anyone else had noticed his excitement. Everyone around him seemed lost in concentration, trying to access their own wagers.
Another omen perhaps? For most people, such long odds would represent a warning to stay away from this nag. But no. Joey realized he stood to win almost half a million dollars. This day was about to bring big changes to Joey’s life.
He struggled to hide his excitement. Joey concentrated hard on trying to relax. Clutching his ticket tightly in his left hand, pressed against his lucky Liberty nickel. A stiff drink would help to calm him, he thought. He stopped a waitress and ordered a drink, paying her with a remaining hundred dollar bill.
The waitress looked over the note on both sides and said, “I’ll be right back with your drink, hon. I’ll have to get change at the bar.” When Joey said nothing in reply, the waitress took it to mean he agreed, and she walked away. Seats were filling up slowly and she had more orders to take on her way to the bar.
Joey’s eyes remained 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, and the thumping pulsation of his own beating heart.
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 prospects were beginning to look grim.
Then, 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 television race caller.
Number 2 Easy Street came alongside the favourite. Jockeys on both horses went to their whips as the two athletes 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 silently 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 where his fresh drink sat. Just then, the front door of the off-track betting establishment swung open, and a warm autumn breeze wafted in. Buoyed by the sudden wind gust, the paper chit that represented Joey’s winnings lifted off the floor and flitted out the door.
The winning ticket floated down Main Street, into the evening light. Whether it was ever found remains a mystery to this day. The ticket was never cashed.
It would take several more minutes before the waitress noticed that Joey hadn’t moved at all. She approached hesitantly and bent to see he wasn’t breathing. In sudden horror, she called out to her boss to come quickly. The change from the hundred dollar bill sat untouched on the side table.
The barmaid was about to lean down and pick up the money when she noticed the silver coin lying on the floor. She crouched down and picked up the nickel. As she turned the talisman 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 that,” she said. “Is that a rare coin?”
“I’ll say” replied the boss, “you’ll probably be retiring from here with that find,” he said. “I’ll call 911. You may as well keep the change too.” The woman just gawked open-mouthed as the manager disappeared.
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. Others find their own way to happier retirements.
As always, thanks for taking the time. Seasonal Allegories is available in Kindle and paperback here.
