called Parmeleau Tractors. I got Denise, the receptionist, and when she heard how out of breath I was, she asked me what was wrong.
“Nothing, nothing,” I said, “but I have to talk to my dad right now.”
“All right, just hold on.” And then: “You sound like you’re calling from the other side of the moon, Craig.”
“I’m on my cell phone.” God, I loved saying that.
Denise made a humph sound. “Those things are full of radiation. I’d never own one. Hold on.”
My dad also asked me what was wrong, because I’d never called him at work before, even on the day the schoolbus left without me.
“Dad, I got my Valentine’s Day scratch ticket from Mr. Harrigan—”
“If you called to tell me you won ten dollars, it could have waited until I—”
“No, Daddy, it’s the big prize!” Which it was, for dollar scratch-offs back then. “I won three thousand dollars!”
Silence from the other end of the line. I thought maybe I’d lost him. In those days cell phones, even the new ones, dropped calls all the time. Ma Bell wasn’t always the best mother.
“Dad? Are you still there?”
“Uh-huh. Are you sure?”
“Yes! I’m looking right at it! Three three thousands! One in the top row and two in the bottom!”
Another long pause, then I heard my father telling someone I think my kid won some money. A moment later he was back to me. “Put it somewhere safe until I get home.”
“Where?”
“How about the sugar cannister in the pantry?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, okay.”
“Craig, are you positive? I don’t want you to be disappointed, so check again.”
I did, somehow convinced that my dad’s doubt would change what I had seen; at least one of those $3000s would now be something else. But they were the same.
I told him that, and he laughed. “Well, then, congratulations. Marcel’s tonight, and you’re buying.”
That made me laugh. I can’t remember ever feeling such pure joy. I needed to call someone else, so I called Mr. Harrigan, who answered on his Luddite landline.
“Mr. Harrigan, thank you for the card! And thank you for the ticket! I—”
“Are you calling on that gadget of yours?” he asked. “You must be, because I can barely hear you. You sound like you’re on the other side of the moon.”
“Mr. Harrigan, I won the big prize! I won three thousand dollars! Thank you so much!”
There was a pause, but not as long as my father’s, and when he spoke again, he didn’t ask me if I was sure. He did me that courtesy. “You struck lucky,” he said. “Good for you.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, but thanks really aren’t necessary. I buy those things by the roll. Send em off to friends and business acquaintances as a kind of . . . mmm . . . calling-card, you could say. Been doing it for years. One was bound to pay off big sooner or later.”
“Dad will make me put most of it in the bank. I guess that’s okay. It will certainly perk up my college fund.”
“Give it to me, if you like,” Mr. Harrigan said. “Let me invest it for you. I think I can guarantee a better return than bank interest.” Then, speaking more to himself than to me: “Something very safe. This isn’t going to be a good year for the market. I see clouds on the horizon.”
“Sure!” I reconsidered. “At least probably. I have to talk to my dad.”
“Of course. Only proper. Tell him I’m willing to also guarantee the base sum. Are you still coming to read for me this afternoon? Or will you put that aside, now that you’re a man of means?”
“Sure, only I have to be back when Dad gets home. We’re going out to dinner.” I paused. “Would you like to come?”
“Not tonight,” he said, with no hesitation. “You know, you could have told me all of this in person, since you’re coming up, anyway. But you enjoy that gadget of yours, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for me to answer that; he didn’t need to. “What would you think of investing your little windfall in Apple stock? I believe that company is going to be quite successful in the future. I’m hearing the iPhone is going to bury the BlackBerry. Pardon the pun. In any case, don’t answer now; discuss it with your father first.”
“I will,” I said. “And I’ll be right up. I’ll run.”
“Youth is a wonderful thing,” said Mr. Harrigan. “What a shame it’s wasted on children.”