by Justin Carter
Eric Holt pulled up to Valero in his new used Silverado just as Julianne Vickers was climbing back into her PT Cruiser. She noticed Eric and turned the ignition back off. No one had seen him since he won $50,000 on a scratch off three weeks before. Eric was usually a fixture at the Newell gas stations. He worked at the tire shop and you’d find him at Conoco before work, Valero on his lunch break, Phillips 66 on the way home. But the winning ticket wasn’t from any of those places. He was 45 minutes away in Fairgrove, on a fishing trip with some buddies, when he stopped off at a Texaco on the way home, and the only reason anyone knew he won was that was one of the guys who was fishing with him, Lamar Higgins, was a loud mouth and told everyone, so within a couple days, the whole town knew that Eric had taken down the biggest jackpot of anyone they knew.
And then came his disappearance. Well, not really a disappearance, because he wasn’t missing. He was posting on Facebook, so everyone knew he hadn’t been kidnapped for his money or anything. But he wasn’t at the tire yard or any of his usual haunts. Not the gas stations. Not Earp’s, the only bar in town. Instead, he was checking in at rivers all over Texas, using that money to visit as many famed fishing spots as he could. The Guadalupe. The Brazos. The Frio. But there he was, the Valero at lunch time, just like usual.
“Eric Holt, as I live and breathe,” Julianne said as she stepped out of her car. “Thought you done run off on us with your winnings.”
“No ma’am,” he said. “Took some time, now I’m back.”
“Fame didn’t change you?”
“We calling this fame now?”
Julianne laughed, then pointed to the truck. “You got a big boy truck now.”
“It’s six years old, but it’s better than what I had before.”
“Used to be able to hear that old one coming from a mile away.”
“You win anything today?”
“10 bucks, but then I lost it back. You tryna front me for some more tickets?” “You know I’d be honored to. You’ve always been a great scratch off friend.” He shut his truck door and the two of them walked inside. Ann Garcia, who owned the station, was working behind the counter.
“Back already,” she said, looking at Julianne. “Trying to lose some more money?” She noticed Eric behind her and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, you brought the big guns.” “How’s it going, Ann?,” Eric said.
“Would be going better if you hadn’t been cheating on me with that Texaco.” Eric laughed. “Someone else would have won it then and I wouldn’t have the money to buy a Big Cash Bingo.” That was the name of the $50 ticket. It had the biggest prizes in the state, including a $500,000 grand prize, and it also had the best odds of winning your money back at 1:4.2. But while it was theoretically easier to break even on Big Cash Bingo, it was also 50 bucks, so it wasn’t worth it for most people. Julianne had never scratched one before.
“Don’t think I’ve sold one of those in at least a week,” Ann said.
“Let’s make it fun, then. I’ll get Julianne one too. And you. And,” he said, looking around. “That guy over there at the Coke machine, get him one too. We’re bound to get something back on four of them.”
“You can just get me a cheaper one,” Julianne said.
“I’ve done the math in my head. If I’m buying Big Cash Bingo, I’m buying four of them.”
"You sure?”
“No. Just scratch the damn thing.”
Ann pulled four tickets out and took Eric’s two $100 dollar bills. In addition to its price, this was the most time-consuming card to scratch. You’d do each bingo call individually, and then there were 20 bingo cards that you had to look for each number on. It took forever. Julianne went over to her favorite scratching spot, which was on top of a stack of beer by the front door. She could still see some of the little silver flecks from when she’d been in the store earlier.
The way you won the big prize was to have a full blackout on the 20th bingo card. On that one, getting a regular bingo didn’t matter. You had to fill the whole thing up. With every scratch Julianne made, she found that number was there on the final card until she was just a few numbers away from the blackout. She started to think about what she’d do with the money. She’d be the new lotto star of Linn County—she’d buy everyone the tickets they wanted, get herself that Corvette she’d been wanting. She kept scratching, until there was just one spot left on the board, I-17. She looked around. Maybe she wouldn’t finish scratching there—take it home, keep it a secret if she won that 500 grand. But then, what if she didn’t? What if that final spot was something else. Better to just get it done. Ann would be thrilled—it’d put her station on the map. Eric—she didn’t know. He could get a finder’s fee for buying it. And the guy at the Coke machine, who was now scratching his too…well, she didn’t really think about him. He was a background character in the drama of Big Cash Bingo. She picked her lotto coin back up and scratched the final number.
And there it was.
I-17.
****
Justin Carter is the author of Brazos. Originally from the Texas Gulf Coast, he currently lives in Iowa and works as a sports writer and editor.