Lottery 1
“Everyone join hands!” a man shouted.
Steven woke up startled. He crawled to the edge of the building and looked down from the roof.
A group of around thirty people were gathered around all holding hands. They took up the entire street. Some dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts, others in dirty dusty old western gear. He looked out past them to see several recreational vehicles and two semi-trucks. Several large canvas tents were set up just past the entrance to the town.
“Lord watch over our production and use us for Your will not ours. May we magnify Your holy name. Amen!” the man ended the prayer and the group disbanded.
Some went to one Semi-truck and began to unload boxes and crates, full of lights and cameras for the set.
Steven let out a sigh of relief and he climbed down off the roof and walked towards the group. “Excuse me…” he tried to get the attention of the prayer leader, who now had a tablet and was going over it intensely.
The prayer leader looked up at Steven, “Why are you not in costume?” He looked away quickly and shouted “Wardrobe!”, before looking back. “You know which one’s wardrobe right?” he said sarcastically and widened his eyes at Steven.
“No, I’m not…” Steven tried to explain.
“It’s that way” the man pointed to one of the tents, and then went back to looking at his tablet before walking off.
Steven walked into the tent.
“What is that smell!!!!” a loud voice screamed out, “Someone stepped in feces!!! everyone check your shoes!! Everyone back outside NOW!!! NOW!!!”
Steven walked outside with everyone else.
“Who are you supposed to be? And why are you late?” the voice seemed to be addressing him now.
Steven turned around to see an elderly woman in large round glasses looking at him.
She started walking towards him and then suddenly stopped, and gagged. “It’s you! Why do you smell like that, Why do you look like that? Who is responsible for this man’s wardrobe? Jasmine! Did you make this man’s wardrobe up?” She walked back inside the tent.
A slender female with long black hair and green eyes approached Steven. “What’s your name?” she looked at her phone.
“Steven Stymes.”
She wrinkled up her face in confusion and messed with her phone. “You’re not on the list. Are you one of the cameramen?”
“No. I was kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” Jasmine looked up at him and backed away.
“I’m Steven Stymes, lottery winner. I’ve been….”
“Mmmmkay….” Jasmine said as she backed away further. “Mother Hen! This guy’s a psycho out here!”
The elderly woman walked back out of the tent, “What’s going on out here?”
“This man is crazy.” Jasmine stated and walked back in the tent.
“So what are you, on drugs? What did you take?” the elderly woman asked.
“Nothing. Please listen.” Steven begged. “My name Steven Stymes, I was the winner of the tri-state lottery. I was kidnapped, I’m not sure by who. I think it was the mob.”
“The mob?” the elderly lady raised an eyebrow in disbelief.