Pegasus2001

A Little Bit of Humanity
Nicole Maklary
First Place, Prose
Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College

The lottery was an annual event held every June 26th. All the townsfolk were required to assemble at the town square. Mr. Summers, the head of our town, would then put slips of paper into a black box. All these slips were blank, except for one which had a black dot imprinted on it. Each head man of the family was required to pick a slip of paper from the black box. Shortly after, the slips of paper were revealed. The man who drew the dotted paper had to redraw with his immediate family. The unlucky family member who redrew the paper with the black dot was stoned to death by the villagers. So many innocent lives, like that of my beloved Billy, had been taken violently because of that damned lottery.
        I wasn’t the only one who believed the lottery was wrong. Mrs. Adams, our town’s healer, confided in me that she had always abhorred the lottery. She told me she would find ways not to stone the “winner” of the lottery. Armed with this knowledge, I knew there were other individuals who disagreed with the lottery.
        A month after my husband was stoned to death, I held a town meeting in my home. Despite the fact that I was taking a huge risk, I suggested the lottery be abolished. Many of the men, especially Old Man Warner, the eldest in our village, strongly disagreed with me. Fortunately, many of the women agreed with me. Not surprisingly, tempers flared and arguments ensued. Mr. Summers told everyone to be quiet. He told us we needed to discuss the matter in a civilized manner. I asked him, “What was so civilized about stoning someone to death?” That’s when Old Man Warner declared, it has to go on. It’s what keeps the village alive!” He tried to explain the reasons for the lottery. His explanations were very vague. We were able to piece together that there had been a terrible drought, long ago, that had caused the village people to turn on one another. They fought and killed each other. To end the fighting and killing, a more arbitrary form of our lottery was put into action. The villagers voted on who should die. It was always the least liked person who was chosen. After a while, the villagers felt the need for a less arbitrary solution. That was when and how our lottery was founded.
        When he was finished, everyone began talking at once. Some people were talking about how there should be no lottery. The men said that the village still ran short of food, occasionally. Many of the women brought up the fact that there was no longer the need to stone someone to death. This went on for quite sometime. Finally, Mr. Summers had enough. He decided that the women should hold the lottery for the next year, since we disagreed on how the lottery was conducted. Then, everyone would vote on which way was better, the original way or our way.
        The following night, the other women and I held a private meeting. We discussed our ideas on how the lottery should be conducted. We knew that food was still short, but there had to be a better solution than stoning someone to death. That’s when Mrs. Adams came up with a brilliant idea.
        When the time for the lottery rolled around, we were prepared. Everyone assembled at the village square, as we had always done. I assumed the duty of Mr. Summers. All the women picked from the black box first, instead of the men.
        When I finally called the last name, each woman looked at her slip of paper. Mrs. Delacroix had drawn the winning slip. Then, I called each member of her family to pick from the black box. As I called each name, I wondered how Mr. Summers could have performed his duty, year after year, knowing that someone would die a violent death. When I was done calling each name, each person revealed his/her slip. Mrs. Delacroix's eldest son, Dickie, had the paper with the black dot. He stood there, mesmerized, not knowing what to do.
        We had Dickie take a seat at a small, wooden table that some of the women brought out. Mrs. Graves and Mrs. Dunbar brought out grand silver platters of food. They set them in front of Dickie. He was dumbfounded at the delectable treats. There were pies of various meats, blueberry and strawberry jams, and candied hams, gravy and potatoes, corn and tomatoes. He did not expect that he would actually be winning something. Mrs. Delacroix leaned over to her son and told him to eat; it was what he deserved. He began eating his food, exclaiming how delicious it was. That night Dickie died.
        As luck would have it, Mrs. Adams had discovered a rare herb that was absolutely delicious, but deadly. She had found the perfect solution to our problem! Let me explain, briefly, in layman’s terms how the herb works. When the deadly herb is digested by a human, toxins run through the veins to the brain. The toxins cause instant paralysis and lethargy. There is no pain. The heart just stops beating.
        That’s what happened to Dickie. When Mrs. Delacroix found his dead body by the side of his bed, she called all the women to her house. We carried his body to Mrs. Graves’ barn. We stripped his motionless body and boiled it in a big, tin tub, to rid the body of the toxins. Then, we cut his body into small pieces and cooked them in a succulent sauce. After the meat was cooked, we put the pieces into jars, and gave them to each family for food. Not only had Dickie died peacefully, his demise brought sustenance to our village. The next day, when the entire village voted upon which lottery they preferred, our lottery won. Our new process is now called “recycling."