Death and the Lottery Family

By James Dennis Beeson

Death in the Recovery Room is a tale of an underachieving family, one member of which wins the Florida State Lottery.The story weaves in and out of the members' lifestyles, depicting the major changes attendant to the windfall.Casualties occur along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483652511

James Dennis Beeson

James Beeson was an Indiana farm boy till his father died when he was ten. He was never without a job. His mother cobbled together the means of maintaining a home for him for the next seven years without the intrusion of any governmental or charitable institution. He skipped the twelfth grade, enlisted in the Navy and was sent to Notre Dame University for his pre-med studies in their college training program (V-12). He graduated from Indiana Medical School in 1949 at the age of twenty-two. He is a board certified anesthesiologist (retired). He had five fine children by his first dear wife who died in 2002. Two of his sons are also anesthesiologists. In 2003 he married his wife's best friend who was a widow. He retired in 1996 and was a care giver for six years. He began writing books in 2009. He enjoys cruising, dinner with friends, Cubs' baseball, Jaguar football, good scotch and the love of his adored wife. He is chronically happy and healthy as of 2014.

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Chapter 1

A Prologue of Sorts

The state of Florida lottery was statutorily authorized in 1988. The subject had been run up the flagpole before, but at that time, no one saluted. Strange bedfellows opposed—those associated with the horse—and dog-racing enterprises and religious leaders. The former was justifiably fearful of the dilution of their clientele base, and the latter, sort of the same. Money blown on a lottery ticket wouldn’t show up at a paramutual booth or a collection plate.

How to sway the public? Education! With the spotty achievement of the public school systems in Florida in general and Jacksonville in particular, any efforts to improve education could and did gain traction.

Referendum: authorize a state lottery, the proceeds from which would go 100 percent toward education. So who would dare to be against it? Only a skeptical minority. It passed.

Implementation was rapid and productive.

It could be you! blared the ads. Millions of dollars poured in, exceeding estimates.

Speaking of redundancy, which no one was, near proximity, consensus of opinion, and free gift are examples. Yet another is duplicitous politician.

The Florida legislature subsequently made its covert plan manifest. All the proceeds were to go for education, right? Not exactly. The appropriation from the general funds for education was reduced by that amount of money the lottery generated. The eliminated funds thus freed up went for—you got it—anything but education.

As I said, duplicitous politician is a redundancy, so we should drop the adjective.

Chapter 2

Ms. Penny Talbot was on public assistance, food stamps, and living in subsidized housing. She kept a neat apartment, unlike most of her neighbors. Not infrequently, she would work little jobs for cash, participating in her own small way in the underground economy.

Another factor wherein she didn’t fit the template of her adjacent apartment dwellers was that she didn’t have babies—not even one. She had boyfriends now and again, but they always seemed to end up looking for subsidization, a transfer she had neither the desire nor the ability to accommodate.

She routinely set aside ten dollars a week to buy lottery tickets. Sometimes she had to forgo something she almost needed in order to fund her prime directive.

She had participated in the lottery for over two years, without a favorable outcome. Still, she persisted. One in how many chances? Millions. On those rare occasions when he was sober, her alcoholic father would lovingly refer to her as his one in a million little girl.

Her mother had been on welfare for many years, but she did have children—three sons and two daughters. They were all underachieving as adults. The five of them did graduate from high school, but except for Penny and her brother Colt, they were socially passed.

Her father was diagnosed with cirrhosis earlier than most and had the usual esophageal varices to help him end his career. The coroner was perplexed as to how Mr. Talbot could absorb alcohol and vomit blood from the same organ at the same time.

Three of Penny’s four siblings were scratching out a living, with the help of the public dole. Two of her brothers were doing their best to follow their father’s drinking habits and as such were constantly in need of a few dollars. Hey, Sis, can you spare me a few till my check comes next week? After a few unrepaid loans, she declined further participation.

Accusations of her being selfish didn’t affect her. She reflected on Shakespeare’s character saying, Neither a borrower nor a lender be. Maybe if she ever won the lottery, she’d share some of it, a big if.

Chapter 3

One Sunday morning, Penny found a discarded morning newspaper. She would check the lottery numbers first, then the sports section, and then maybe the comics. She found a place to sit, turned the paper pages till she found the lottery section, and began comparing the listed numbers with those on her ten tickets. When she first began buying the tickets, she would try to get to a television set at the time of the drawings. No urgency anymore. Check when I can.

The first eight tickets never even matched the first listed lottery number. They were serially discarded. The ninth—well, the first number matches (that’s a switch). Hey, so does the second! And the third! The fourth! Oh my god! The fifth does too! The sixth one does too!

She was trembling so hard, she feared she’d have a seizure. She forced herself not to scream, jump for joy, or in any way call attention to herself. What if somebody tries to steal it? Right away, she put the ticket in her most secure place—deep in the pocket of her bra. Mustn’t let on.

She walked slowly—even casually—back to her apartment. She’s there.

Hey, Penny. What’s new? a friendly neighbor asked her as she entered the area.

Same old, same old, she countered in a shaky voice.

You got a cold, honey? the neighbor asked.

Naw, just my sinuses, she replied and hurried to her own door. Lock it quickly! Calm down. Nobody knows. Quick! Be sure you didn’t throw the wrong ticket away. She hadn’t.

She sat down to let her pulse get below 160. Breathe deeply. Easy does it. That’s better.

Who to call? Start with the Jiffy Market that sold her the ticket. She looked the number up and called.

Hi. I buy my lottery tickets from you all the time. Who do I call when I win?

Hey, baby. I admire your optimism. It’s a Tallahassee number.

He gave it to her. Go ahead and win. They give the place that sells the winning tickets a bundle too. Good luck.

With palsied hands, she punched in the 800 number. Busy signal. Somebody else won too! I don’t care. Wait two minutes by the clock. Redial. A recording said, You have reached the offices of your Florida lottery. If you know your party’s extension, you may dial it at any time, etc.

After several fits and starts, she finally got a live person on the line. Ma’am, my name is Penny Talbot, and I have a lottery ticket with yesterday’s winning numbers on it. What do I do next?

Congratulations! I believe you’re the only winner this time. Did you buy it from a Jiffy Market in Jacksonville?

Yes, ma’am. On Friday.

Well, young lady, if you have the winning ticket, you’re about to become a very rich person. We will call you tomorrow and ask you to meet with our validating agent in Jacksonville. If it is as you say, you will need to come to Tallahassee for a photo op with a big copy of the check, if you choose the lump sum, or with our promissory letter, if you choose the installment option.

She had often fantasized about her actions if she ever won. It would be a lump sum for sure. She would get a good attorney, a financial advisor, and a CPA. She would move out of her current neighborhood right away. Will she get a bodyguard? Maybe.

After her conversation with the lottery representative ended, she decided to pace the floor. Her pulse seemed normal now. She turned on the television set, which she didn’t watch; fixed herself a sandwich, which she only nibbled; and went to bed at eight o’clock. Her eyes were still open at midnight. Stupid! she said to herself. It is what it is. Validate tomorrow—oh, it’s already tomorrow. Do whatever’s required.

The night passed, and she got enough sleep that she didn’t feel deprived. Of course, the repeated adrenalin rushes might have had something to do with that.

Morning came. She had a cup of coffee, and then another. She was startled when the phone rang. Breathless, she answered, Hello.

Hey, Sis, Colt here. Routine call. I’m fine. Anything new with you?

Colt was her one decent brother. Does he know? she wondered.

Not much. Anything from our prodigal brothers?

Nah. They’ll be too hung over from the weekend to make news.

He’s too casual. He doesn’t know, she thought

They chatted for a few minutes and closed their phones.

Ten minutes later, the phone rang again. She was less startled this time. I’m Level Burch. The lottery people have asked me to validate your winning ticket. Where and when can I meet you?

There was a busy little restaurant close to her apartment. Plenty of people there—broad daylight. It should be safe.

She gave him the name and approximate location of the establishment. Thirty minutes? Fine.

What if he tries to steal the ticket after he says it’s good? she wondered. I’m being paranoid. The lottery people called him. Don’t be such a ninny!

She figured rightly that he would be the best-dressed person at the restaurant. He went straight to her.

Hi. I’m Level Burch, and you must be Penny Talbot.

They shook hands. His were warm and dry. Hers were sweaty and exhibited a slight tremor.

What would you like to eat? I’m empowered to buy you breakfast or lunch, he said.

They settled on pancakes. The pancakes were served and eaten. He didn’t quite finish his plate, but Penny’s plate was empty.

I must have been hungry, she offered.

May I see your ticket now? You may continue to hold on to it while I cross-check my numbers with your ticket. He pulled out a slip of computer paper that had Saturday’s date on it plus six numbers.

You have a winner, Ms. Talbot! he whispered so as not to call attention to them.

What’s next? Penny asked.

They’ll call you from Tallahassee this afternoon. Can you get there in the next few days? he asked with a broad smile.

Under the circumstances, you betcha! she said.

Chapter 4

There was a prominent attorney at her church who knew her by name. Penny called his office number as soon as she returned to her apartment.

Otis Cromwell’s office, Cynthia speaking.

Yes, ma’am, I’m Penny Talbot. Mr. Cromwell and I go to the same church, and I need some advice from him right away.

Are you under arrest, Ms. Talbot? Cynthia asked.

Oh no, I just won the lottery. You’re the first person I’ve told, and I need legal help—

I’ll put you through right away, Cynthia interrupted.

Penny, Otis here. Did you really win the lottery?

Yes, sir, and the ticket’s been validated and everything, and I need you to steer me to a lawyer who can help me—and a CPA and a financial counselor too. She was almost breathless.

Well, if you wish, I can do all the legal work you’ll need, and I won’t charge you excessively. I often have clients that have a lot of money, so I am qualified. I can give you the names of several financial planners whom I know to be competent and honest, if you’d like.

I’d like that! Penny quickly said. Can I see you today?

Anytime. I’ll clear my calendar.

Would one o’clock be OK? she asked

Perfect, he said and gave her the names he would recommend as financial advisors. He spelled their names out for her and asked, Do you have a CPA?

No, sir. Never needed one till now. Can you help me there?

Otis gave her three more names to consider.

She chose Meredith Winters from Otis’s list of planners, for no better reason than that she liked the sound of his name the best.

She called Mr. Winter’s office with the number she’d been given and explained her situation to his secretary, who once again put her right through to her boss.

Money talks, she thought. Before this, I couldn’t have made it past anybody’s secretary.

Mr. Winters, I’m Penny Talbot, and I just won the lottery. Mr. Cromwell gave me your name as a financial advisor.

I’d be honored. Can you come in today?

She was seeing Otis at one o’clock. She was told it shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes.

Would three o’clock be OK? she asked.

Yes, it would. Do you have my address? No, she didn’t, so he gave it to her.

Her one o’clock meeting with Otis took the thirty minutes expected.

She was hungry, she decided, so she went to a nearby restaurant where they had cloth napkins and table service. They had a lobster salad on the menu, which caught her attention. "Twenty-two dollars!

So what! She ordered it, not knowing whether she’d like it, never having had lobster before. She ate every bite of it with relish.

This won’t be my last lobster! she mused.

She agonized briefly as to how much to tip the waitress who had been so attentive. Her bill had annotated how much 15 percent would be, and she’d read somewhere that 15 percent was always acceptable.

She paid cash to both ends and left the restaurant feeling ever so happy.

Wonder if lobster always affects people that way? she thought.

She found Mr. Winter’s office easily. It had been a thirty-minute walk to get there, but since she’d been walking on air of late—piece of cake!

She was ushered into his office. He had a firm handshake. She liked that. He was also a handsome devil—she liked that too.

He explained that if she chose him, her account would be set up so that he would have no direct access to her money. He would suggest, and she would implement.

They settled the matter then and there, and before she realized it, they’d been talking animatedly for over thirty minutes about unrelated items.

I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to waste so much of your time, sir, Penny said.

Firstly, please don’t call me ‘sir.’ I’m only a few years older than you. And secondly, it’s never a waste of time talking to millionaires, especially when they’re as attractive as you are.

Penny smiled through her overt blush, got up from her chair, shook his hand, and said her good-bye.

Give my secretary your name, rank, and serial number in case we need to contact you before you contact us, he said.

She did.

She had more than enough money for a cab back to her apartment, so she splurged again. It’s getting easier, she thought. She had taken two years of French in high school, and she suddenly thought of the phrase nouveau riche. Hey! That’s me!

Chapter 5

Otis had suggested that she rent a condo in a gated community and move there right away. She agreed. Before she left his office, his secretary had handed her a list of three locations that would fill her current needs. Penny picked the one farthest from her old apartment, which was in the Sweetwater development.

Cynthia got the condo manager on the phone and passed the call on to Otis while Penny was still there. Otis poked his head out of his office a few minutes later and handed Penny a piece of paper with the name of the manager and the condo location. He would be expecting her visit today.

Do you need any cash? Otis asked her.

She really did—should she say yes?

Yes, sir, what with cabs and all.

Otis raised his hand and said with a chuckle, It’s OK. I believe you’re good for it. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted five one-hundred-dollar bills, which he handed to her.

I—I can’t thank you enough, sir, she said.

He held up his hand a second time. I do good things for good people. Mother always said to do so.

Penny shook his outstretched hand and departed with five portraits of Ben Franklin crammed in her purse.

We’ll be in touch, Otis called after her.

If I’m dreaming, I hope I’ll never wake up! she said to herself.

She took a cab to the admitting gate where the guard had been alerted to her coming. He passed her through and directed her to the proper location.

She went to pay the cab driver and realized she only had the hundreds.

Can you change this? she asked him.

I believe I can, and did so.

She added a nice tip. He thanked her and said, If it’s not too long, I’ll wait for you and not charge you.

That would be wonderful. If I see it’s going to be a long time, I’ll come tell you.

Penny found the manager easily. He was gracious and pleasant, and he took her to the prospective condo. Otis had told him to accommodate her and that she was good for anything she would verbally commit to.

It has two bedrooms, somewhat bigger and a whole lot nicer than her current place. It was on the second floor, with a view of a small man-made lake.

The lake’s usually higher. No rain for a month, he told her.

The rent would be one thousand dollars a month, with the first and last month’s rent payable in advance along with another thousand-dollar refundable security deposit. She gulped at all that but quickly realized she could easily afford it. Heck, I might be able to buy the whole development! she thought.

That’ll be fine. When can I move in?

Anytime. Here are two sets of keys to the place. No hurry about the money, but if you can get it to me in the next couple of weeks, I won’t have to explain to the owners why I’m late.

Yes, sir. I’ll see to that.

She hoped she’d been correct about it. Surely the money would be ready way before two weeks.

She signed some routine forms. He gave her a copy of the condo rules and the access code to the gate opening device, and they were done. She thanked him and was back in her cab in twenty minutes.

The cabbie took her to her old apartment and thanked her for her sizable tip. Anytime, little lady, he said, handing her his personal card.

There was still four hours of daylight left. Maybe Colt could help her move enough of her stuff so she could stay at the condo that night—on the floor if necessary.

Hello, Colt. Penny here. I’ve rented a condo in Sweetwater, and I wonder if you’d be able to give me a hand in moving enough stuff today so I can spend the night there.

Whoa! You what? A condo? You win the lottery or something?

For a brief moment, she thought he already knew. He couldn’t. He’d joked about that before. He’s my closest relative—tell him first.

Colt, promise to keep it secret for a week. I did win Saturday’s lottery, and I’ve been advised to move out of my old place as soon as possible.

You’re not out with my two drinking brothers, are you?

No, Colt. It’s true.

Colt said enthusiastically, Wonderful! Couldn’t happen to a finer person. I’ll be right over.

I can always count on you, can’t I? Penny said.

Yes, you can.

Chapter 6

Colt was her mechanically gifted sibling. He was the only one of her three brothers that embraced sobriety and had a viable work ethic. Her other two brothers couldn’t pour milk (or anything else) out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel. They were adept, however, in pouring whiskey out of a bottle.

Colt was off work and at her apartment an hour after she had called him, with his pickup truck and an attached U-haul unit.

They first disassembled her bed to a level that the pieces could be easily carried. She picked and chose from among her belongings as to what went that day and what could be deferred.

She hadn’t driven her little car since she heard she’d won the lottery. She feared she’d be too distracted and nervous to drive safely. She’d simmered down now.

Can you bring me back to the apartment after we unload? Otherwise, you can follow me to the condo, she said.

Under the circumstances—I’m yours to command, he replied.

He said he’d bring her back, so she didn’t use her car.

They arrived at the Sweetwater gated and guarded main entrance, punched in the five digit entry code she’d been given to activate the gate, and in they went.

After uneventfully unloading the trailer and his truck, they agreed that they were tired; and besides, it was getting dark.

Let’s quit for today. Take me back to my old place, and I’ll come back here tonight. But first, I’m buying you dinner.

Moving sixteen tons of number nine stuff gives a fellow an appetite—you’re on, he said.

Remember—give me a few days to get my affairs settled before you tell on me.

Mum’s the word, he assured her.

How about that seafood place on Atlantic? she asked.

Never been there. Sounds fine. Where on Atlantic?

I’ll direct you. It’s not far. So they hopped into his truck and off to dinner.

After devouring all of his shrimp special and a third of hers, they left with him taking her back to her apartment, but not before she got her change back from one of her hundred dollar bills.

You’re pretty generous with your tipping, he commented not unkindly

I can afford to be. Remember?

He got out of his truck to see her safely to her apartment door. He gave her a hug and said, You’re going to meet a lot of people who just realized how much they’ve loved you.

Oh yes, I’m aware of that. Thanks so much for your help. You know, Colt, you’re the only person I fully trust.

Chapter 7

Penny’s first night at her new condo was a many splendored things. The hot water was really hot. The electricity being already on was a blessing.

Out her window, she could see the little lake even though it was dimly lit. She had brought enough food, pots and pans, and other kitchen gear so that she could fix herself breakfast. She turned down the AC, something she never had done at the apartment because of the added expense. It was quiet, unlike her old place where the rowdy neighbors exploded periodically. She felt safer, and she was. Her own bed had never felt so soft. She enjoyed the best night’s sleep she’d had since her financial windfall.

The next morning, she decided she’d never felt better in her life. Then she frowned. Can’t let this euphoria take over! she said to herself. She giggled. Well, maybe just a little. She was still full from the previous evening’s shrimp, so she settled for toast and jam that morning—with coffee, of course.

At ten o’clock, she called the CPA’s office. She’d settled on a Grant Larden, one of the three names she’d been given. With Penny’s permission, Otis had alerted the gentleman that she would be calling.

Grant Larden’s office, Donna speaking.

Yes, ma’am, I’m Penny Talbot. I need to see Mr. Larden about my taxes.

Oh yes, ma’am, he’s been expecting you. When can you come in?

Would two o’clock be OK? Penny asked.

Absolutely. See you then.

Penny giggled (she’d been doing a lot of that lately). She recalled that the secretary had called her ma’am. How’s that for the old switcheroo? she thought.

She’d no more than ended her call when her cell phone rang. Ms. Talbot, this is Mrs. Elliot at the Florida Lottery office. Can you be in Tallahassee Thursday to pick up your check?

Penny thought about saying she’d try to work it out but thought better of it.

What time and where? Penny asked.

Mrs. Elliot gave her explicit instructions and said she was looking forward to meeting Penny.

She didn’t like calling Colt at work, so she would wait till four o’clock to contact him with her update. He called her at noon on his lunch break.

I believe I can get off tomorrow and take you, if you’d like.

That would be wonderful—no demerits if you can’t.

Let you know this afternoon. Bye.

Chapter 8

Penny took a