Chapter 7

The elevator slid to a stop, and the doors opened into a large, well-lit hallway. At the end of the hall was a beveled glass door, with large black letters engraved across its face.

REDEMPTION OFFICE

"Here we go, Dude."

I smiled at Dino, unwilling to speak. My insides felt like they had been turned to goo, and I could feel my legs shaking as I took a step past the threshold of the elevator. One step, then another, and I was fighting to keep my breathing level. With each step, it became more real, and more imminent, and I was struck with the unreality of the situation. I was here to become a multi-millionaire. Me, Steve, who a week ago was sleeping at the office to avoid having to go home to his wife, and who was giddy at the thought of five bucks that Jen would never know about That guy was me, and here I was pushing open the door to the Lottery Redemption office.

Once inside, a secretary looked up from a small desk to our left.

"Mister Allen?"

"That's me," I managed to croak. She grinned and stood up, sticking out her hand for me to shake.

"Janice said you were on your way. My name's Tracy, and if you'd please follow me, I'll take you to see Mr. Schroeder."

"Uh ... sure."

Dino and I fell into line behind Tracy, our heads on a swivel. It resembled every office I'd ever been in, with a cubicle farm in the main working area, a water cooler off to one side, and the quiet clatter of keyboards from every direction. A few curious glances in our direction had a blush shining bright on my face, and a quick glance at Dino told me he felt the looks, too. Tracy led us to a door in the corner of the main area and knocked once as she opened it.

"Mister Schroeder? Mister Allen is here to see you."

"Well, send him in, send him in!"

We filed into the office, and a large man with an even larger grin, presumably Mister Schroeder, greeted us with hearty handshakes and a permanent smile. He invited us to take a seat and dismissed Tracy, who checked to see if she could get us any refreshments as she left. Dino and I both declined, and perched at the edge of two small wire-framed chairs across the desk from Mister Schroeder, feeling like a pair of schoolkids being sent to the principal.

"So, Mister Allen, did you bring your ticket?"

"Yessir, I did," I said, fishing my calculator out of my pocket and retrieving the ticket.

I slid it across the desk to him and he picked it up, his face turning suddenly serious. A magnifying glass appeared in his right hand, and he leaned forward, peering closely at three of the corners of the ticket, and then turning it over and repeating the process.

"Well, it seems to be in order. Let's see if the computer agrees."

He pushed his chair away from the desk and it rolled backwards to a small machine in the corner. He stuck my ticket in the top and pushed a button. A green light shone through the cracks at the top of the machine as it purred to life, and he kicked back and threw a leg up on one corner of the table the machine sat on.

"So you thought a bit about how you're going to spend it all?"

"Yes, Sir. It's been on my mind quite a bit."

"I bet it has. A word to the wise, though, son. Be careful with it. Money, even in these sorta amounts, disappears awful fast."

"I've already contacted a financial planner, Sir. I meet with her tomorrow to go over my options."

"Her, huh? I just bet she wants to 'go over your options'. You want to be real careful, Son. You're about to have a whole lot of friends who would like nothing more than to review a few options of their own with you."

At that moment, the machine beeped, and a crackling sound issued forth. For a moment, my heart stopped, but then I realized that there was a printout issuing forth from the front of the machine. Mister Schroeder grabbed the form, glanced at it, then grinned long and wide at me.

"Congratulations, Mister Allen. You're all verified."

I couldn't help it. I felt a quiver sneak into my lower lip, and I bit into it to keep it straight. I had a huge grin threatening to erupt any second, and my stomach clenched and unclenched rhythmically. And then, two silly big tears worked their way out of the corners of my eyes and started to mosey down my flushed cheeks. Mister Schroeder grinned at me, in a bit more reserved way, and fished a few tissues out from a box at the corner of his desk. He handed them to me and then turned to his PC while I snuffled a bit, apologizing as Dino chuckled at my discomfort. I finally sniffed and wadded up the stupid tissues, pitching them into the trashcan at the edge of the desk. When I looked back, Mister Schroeder had a series of forms waiting for me.

"Now, Mister Allen, if you'll sign here ... and here ... and ... here and here ... and then initial, sign, print your name, and date it at the end?"

I did as he asked, struck with the similarity to the last form I had signed in much the same way. When I finished, he turned the form to Dino to sign as a witness, which he did. When we had finished, I laid the pen down, my hand barely shaking, and sat back in my chair. I looked over at Dean, who was much quieter than usual, and I knew he was feeling the same gravity of the moment that I was. He looked at me, and I rolled my eyes in amazement.

"No shit, Dude..."

"Now then, Mister Allen ... my favorite part of the process. How would you like that?"

"Um ... what are my options?"

I chuckled nervously as I spoke, and he grinned at me.

"We recommend a wire transfer, if you have an account existing somewhere, but we can of course issue you a certified check, if you prefer. Cash, I'm afraid, is not an option."

"I do have an account with Ameribank ... could you wire the money there? When would I get it?"

"We certainly can ... if you could write down your account number for me, I'll be glad to give them a call right now and make the arrangements. The money will be there before you leave this office."

"Holy shit..." I muttered, as I scribbled down my number for him.

He picked up the phone and dialed a quick extension. Within seconds he was talking to someone at Ameribank, and the transfer was initiated. He stayed on the phone for a few moments of silence, then thanked the person on the other end and scrawled down a number on a post-it note next to his desk. He hung up, tore off the note, and handed it to me.