The morning of Oct 31st broke clear and sunny, with the fresh coolness of a full-fall day, as the bugs buzzed and the trees had green, yellow, and red leaves, the people of the district began to gather on the football field, between the enhanced finishing school and the endless forest, around ten o’clock. Some districts had so many women that the lottery had to begin before dawn, but this district, with only about three hundred females, the whole lottery took only two hours, so it could begin at ten o’clock in the morning and still finish by the required noon time, which also allowed everyone time to get ready and participate in Halloween sundown events.

The older ladies, grandmothers mostly, assembled first, of course. Most had woken up early to bake and dress for the event. They tended to gather quietly for a while before they set up tables and filled them with baked goods. They talked about their families, the latest divorces, deaths, and newly discovered recipes. Mrs. Martin had already evaluated the other desserts and had begun her criticisms of size, shape, color, and texture. Other ladies joined in the conversation, the reviews critical, pointed, and though not well received, the other ladies accepted and apologized for their inferior desserts. Mrs. Jones, mother to the school’s mathematics teacher, and Mrs. Delacroix, who others pronounced Dellacroy, had arranged the baked goods onto separate tables of cookies, cakes, jelly bowls, muffins, squares, and a small, ugly table with miscellaneous baked goods, that caused, both exclamations of delight, and tsk’s of shame.

Middle-aged women, mothers, stood off to the side and gossiped about husbands and lovers. The daughters, aged between ten and early twenties, stood between the two groups and talked about their mothers, their fathers, and who cheated on whom. Awkward, in groups of one, two, or three, and closest to the forest, stood the in-between women, late twenties, with no husbands, either because they hadn’t captured one yet, or only dated other women.

Soon the three officials arrived, the District Representative, as old as the older ladies, in a short, black, cocktail dress, with inappropiate high heels, but no one would comment, as her missing right arm scared everyone, the District Secretary, as young as the daughters, in a sleeveless white and yellow flowered sundress, with sensible sandals, and the District Financial advisor, mother aged, in a dark blue power dress suit and black dress shoes. The representative and secretary talked, mostly about politics, but also about the size of the gathering, the largest in their memory.

Mothers walked to their mothers, and daughters shuffled to the family, linked arms with the grandmothers, while their mothers scowled at their revealing clothing. Mrs. Martin discreetly waved for her daughter, and the nearby women pretended not to notice. Mrs. Summers hissed at her daughter, Kelly, who refused to look at her mother, but left her friend for her favorite and only remaining grandmother.

The District Representative conducted the lottery, her primary duty, while the other two officials supervised. The Financial Advisor held a cardboard box with ripped, festive, Halloween wrapping on it. The same one from last year and the year before, but different from the official black plastic one that someone ran over with their car years ago. The secretary coughed twice, waited for most of the conversation to stop, coughed again, and gestured at the representative.

“It’s time,” the representative said as she glanced at her gold watch with a cracked crystal face. The other women kept their distance from the trio and the tables with the baked goods. For years, various people suggested bands, or music, or grand speeches before the event, but no one had time to organize it. Instead, they focused on Halloween later in the day. Five years ago, a young girl who aspired to a singing career had sung an acapella version of a current pop song. No one had clapped or cheered, except her best friend. Initially, the government issued plastic coins for the lottery, but someone lost them, years ago, so the secretary just used square paper pieces. Each year, after the lottery, Mrs. Jones suggested that the secretary re-order new coins, but with a year to prepare, the to-do task slipped until not enough time remained for a shipment to arrive, and they vowed to do it next year.