Lucky Strike by Bobbie Pyron

Author:Bobbie Pyron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2014-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

As Nate and Gen licked the last of the syrup from their fingers, Councilman Lamprey announced the raffle drawing.

“Y’all gather around and get your tickets out. Somebody’s going home with a brand-new truck today.”

“Remember our agreement,” he said to Gen.

She rolled her eyes.

“Chief Brandy,” Councilman Lamprey said, “is a bit under the weather and can’t be here to draw the winning ticket.” The councilman turned to the old dog. “Mayor, would you kindly fetch someone to do the honors?”

The mayor wove his way through the crowd sniffing here and there until he came to Nate. “Rooo, rooo!”

The mayor grabbed Nate’s wrist in his mouth and pulled him through the crowd. Hands reached out to touch him, along with hopeful whispers of “Pick mine, boy. Pick mine.” By the time Nate got to the front of the crowd, his shirt was half hanging off, exposing the symphony of lightning-conducted scars.

The councilman held out a shoe box full of raffle tickets. “Stir them up real good, son.”

Nate did.

“Now reach down and pick out the lucky ticket.”

He swallowed hard and plunged his hand into the box. He held his breath as his fingers pulled out a ticket and handed it to the councilman.

The folks in the crowd were as quiet and still as they had been for the blessing.

“The winning ticket number is …” The councilman squinted at the ticket and adjusted his glasses. The crowd shifted impatiently.

“The winning number is 10299. Who has 10299?”

“Well I’ll be dipped and fried,” a voice from the back said. “It’s my ticket.” Grandpa held his ticket high. “I won a new truck!”

“That’s not fair!”

“How come Jonah Harlow’s having all the luck?”

Suspicious, resentful eyes darted from Nate to his grandpa and back.

“Come on up here, Jonah, and claim your prize,” Councilman Lamprey called out in a bit-too-jovial voice.

Jonah Harlow made his way through the grumbling crowd. Only Chum Bailey’s father patted him on the back and said, “Good for you, Jonah.”

Councilman Lamprey thumped Grandpa on the back, then pumped his hand up and down. “Congratulations, Jonah! Here are the keys to your brand-new truck!” The councilman held them up for everyone to see. As he handed the keys over to Grandpa, he said, “Of course, none of us are going to know you, seeing as how you won’t be driving old Alfred anymore.”

Grandpa chuckled uneasily. A photographer from the newspaper snapped a picture or two. The crowd wandered away, still grumbling.

Nate walked with his grandpa over to their new truck, shining in the sun. It looked ready and raring to go.

“Sure is something, isn’t it?” he said to his grandpa.

“Sure is.” Grandpa kicked at a tire and gazed into the spotless bed of the truck. “Seems too nice to carry a bunch of bait buckets and dead fish around in.”

Just then Reverend Beam, Mrs. Beam, and Gen walked up. “Whoowee, that is one fine truck, Jonah Harlow,” the reverend said with a grin. “You think you’ll be able to stand driving that thing?”

Grandpa smiled. “I don’t know, but I’ll sure give it a try.

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