David E. Stull was formerly an International Training Coordinator and
regional food and equipment expert for a large chain and is currently trying
to break into the professional writing field. He has recently begun
submitting short pieces for publication.
David is also currently working on a novel, which will be done by the end of
summer. At that time, He plans to start searching for an agent.
When I'm not writing or researching markets for my fiction, David Stull loves to read,
watch movies (he's an avid collector with a library of over a thousand
titles) and cook. David says, "With all these sedentary pursuits, I also work out
regularly to keep trim."
David calls this first piece for The Inditer 'soft/sociological science fiction'.
© 1999 - All Rights Reserved by David E. Stull
The Lottery The phone's shrill ring yanked Margerie from a deep sleep. She grabbed for it, missed—then snatched it off the cradle just before the caller could be
shunted to voice-mail.
"Hello." Her voice sounded the way her head felt—stuffed full of cotton.
"Hi, Baby. It's your faithful Hubby."
The cobwebs cleared instantly at the sound of his voice.
Awake now, she sat up on the edge of the sofa. The patchwork quilt she had
snagged from the bedroom for her afternoon nap fell to the floor.
"Faithful? Huh! Must be a wrong number."
"You wound me to the core." Darren laughed.
His laugh made her heart ache. She missed him so much it hurt. Thank God it
would only be a few days and the business trip would be over. She reflected
on the sore spot between them. His career kept him away too much and she
looked forward to their time together.
"Miss you."
"Me too…Guess what?"
She put on her best, wounded little waif voice. "Don't make me guess. You
know I hate that."
"Okay. Okay." Silence for a moment. "We won the Lottery!"
"WE WON? You mean it? We really won?" She could hardly believe it! After ten
long years of trying! They had waited so long. Now that The Commission had
accepted their application for procreation, they could start the family they
had dreamed of.
She sat forward quickly, her knee striking the cup of cold coffee she had
been drinking before she went to sleep, sending it crashing to the floor.
The black coffee immediately sank into the cream colored carpet.
"Damn it!"
"What's Wrong?" Darren asked, apprehension filling his voice.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just knocked a cup of coffee over onto the living room
rug."
"Are you all right? You didn't get cut or anything?"
"It fell on the rug Darren. I could throw the cup at the floor in here and
it wouldn't break."
"Okay…I was just worried for a moment." He replied, his feelings hurt.
"You're sweet. I'm sorry I snapped at you—guess I'm still a little edgy from
waking up from my nap." She held the phone between her shoulder and ear
while she tried in vain to mop up the spill with a kitchen towel. "Listen.
How about I call you back in a few minutes? I need to get this mess cleaned
up before the stain sets into the carpet."
"Okay. I'm sure my girlfriends can keep me entertained for a little while."
"That'll be the day. You know why I don't get jealous? It's because no other
woman would have you."
He laughed again. "So true. I love you."
"Love you to. Talk to you in a few minutes."
"Bye."
"Bye-bye."
He picked up on the first ring.
"Midnight Productions."
Smiling, she asked. " Were you sitting by the phone waiting for my call?"
"Yep, I couldn't wait to hear the sound of your voice."
"What would you like to hear?" She purred.
"Well you could start with, ‘I'm slowly taking off my blouse', and move on
from there."
"You know I charge $2.99 a minute? Is your credit card valid or do you want
to try the barter system?" She said suppressing a girlish giggle.
"Sounds intriguing…But what do I have that you'd be willing to barter for?"
She could picture him sitting there with his head leaning back, staring at
the ceiling above his desk.
"I'll think of something. You're not much to look at but you do make a
killer cheese omelet."
"What have I done to deserve you?"
"Hmmm, you must have been a master criminal in another life. Maybe you were
really Cotton Mather and this is your payback for all the innocent witches
you burned at the stake?"
"Innocent witches?" He sounded perplexed. "Isn't that an oxymoron?"
"Hey, who you callin' a moron Bubba?"
They both laughed, confident in their love for each other as they played the
little game they both enjoyed so much. Humor at each other's expense was an
accepted and pleasing routine.
More serious she asked. "So have you come up with any names?"
"I was thinking Conrad for a boy, or Gillian for a girl."
"Gillian I get. But why Conrad?"
"It's German, means bold or wise counselor. Plus there's Joseph Conrad, the
English novelist, plus a line of Roman kings from Germany.
"King Conrad Huh? I guess I do like the sound of that."
"What about you? Are there any names you like?"
"Of course. I was thinking of Brandy or Carmen, and Isaiah or Jared."
"All great names, but I don't know about Isaiah. It sounds kind of spooky."
"I suppose so…I know...How about Conrad II?" she made a trumpet sound that
was closer to the call of a dying buffalo. "Long live the king!"
"Conrad II, the king of Boise? Might have a nice ring to it!"
"He doesn't have to live in Boise forever you know. He might move away when
he grows up and be king of some exotic foreign land."
"As long as it isn't Greenland—too cold."
"I'm thinking more of the Mediterranean. Someplace warm with sun drenched
beaches where the local males run around in Speedo's."
"You have a lecherous mind. But I like it."
"I'll just bet you do..."
"On a more serious note, have you filled out the forms to send in to PLAC
yet?"
"Not yet. I'll do it as soon as I'm off the phone." She added, "Not that you
need to be in a hurry to hang up. Unless one of your girlfriends is getting
impatient…?"
"Not them. They're solid as a rock. Besides, they know the longer we talk
the more TLC I'm going to need afterwards."
This time she let forth a healthy laugh.
Then she asked. "Do you think it would jinx us if I started making plans for
the nursery?'
"No, I don't think so, according to The Commission our psychic luck index is
one of the highest they've ever seen. I don't think getting jinxed will be a
problem." She could hear him take a sip of his coffee. "What did you have in
mind?"
"Mmmm, I was thinking about the wallpaper. I saw some really cute prints in
a home decorator's catalog and really liked a couple of them."
"What did they look like?"
"Well, if it's a boy, I like this one that has a light blue sky filled with
the cutest little airplanes. And if she's a girl, then a pink backgound with
little teddy bears and honey pots."
"They both sound wonderful Honey. Do you need help with any of the plans?"
"Only if you want to—want to go along to pick out the crib? I was going to
go look at some tomorrow but if you want to go, we can do it this weekend."
"Okay, I'm game. That is if we can fit it into our schedule. I was hoping to
practice knocking you up this weekend."
"That won't take long!"
"Ouch!"
Another giggle filled his earpiece. "I think we can somehow find time for
both."
"Were you planning on calling your mother tonight with the news she'll soon
be a grandmother?"
"I don't think so. Let's wait until the PLAC confirmation letter comes back
first. It's not a good idea to get her hopes up and then have something go
wrong at the last minute."
"I told you, our index is through the roof. I don't think we'll have a
problem."
"Okay Buster! Now, you're in danger of jinxing us. Remember, don't count
your chickens until the eggs have hatched."
"I have a friend who works with PLAC."
"You never told me about any friend."
"We went to college together. I was waiting until I had talked to him before
saying anything to you."
"Didn't want to get my hopes up?"
"Didn't see any reason to—I talked to him this morning and he feels certain
the letter is on the way."
"Now, I know why I married you. It was for all your contacts."
"Ah, that explains it. I had always wondered…"
"Wonder no more. I married you because I love you…Against my mother's wishes
I might add."
"Yeah, but your dad adores me."
"He just thought you were cute!"
"Cute like in Teddy bear cute—or Kevin Sorbo cute?"
"I think it had something to do with your cute butt."
"Now I'm in danger of losing my lunch. The thought of your dad eyeing me up
like an old letch isn't all that appetizing."
"Is it the hair on his nose that turns you off?"
"No way, I like the hair on his nose. It's the hair in his ears that's more
than I can stand."
"Well then, maybe I'll fix the two of you up. If Mom doesn't mind of
course."
"And have you get even more jealous? I don't think I would survive the
tempest of your wrath."
She switched gears effortlessly. "The Tempest of Her Wrath—I like the sound
of that. Maybe we should get a boat and that would be its name."
"Now she wants a boat. My bank account is crying."
"No boat? How about a little red sports car with bucket seats, a big engine
and a sunroof?"
"How about a dog?"
"A dog named The Tempest of her Wrath? That could somehow be appropriate."
"You mean when I have to take her for walks all the time and give her all
her baths?"
"Of course. I'll be far too busy spoiling her and filling her sweet little
head with stories about her evil father."
"If that's how you'll treat the dog what will you do with our child?"
"That's going to be even more fun!"
"I may've bitten off more than I can chew!"
"You always do, that's why you have a wonderful wife like me to pull your
fat out of the fire."
"I'm a lucky man."
"The luckiest on Earth."
"Listen, I've got to get back to work, but I'll call you tonight. I love
you."
"Love you too."
"Bye..."
"Bye..."
As she placed the phone back on its cradle, the doorbell chimed. She forced
herself not to run to open it. And projecting more dignity than she felt she
pulled it open.
A young man in a courier uniform looked up as the door opened and said,
"Special delivery Ma'am. Will you sign here please?" And handed her a
clipboard and pen.
"Of course." As she handed them back to him, he passed her a letter. "Thank
you."
"Have a nice day ma'am."
"You too."
Seated at the desk with the letter in front of her, Margerie could hardly
bring herself to open it. She held the letter clutched toward her chest.
When the anxiety became too much to bear, she ripped it open. Inside was a
single sheet of paper.
Hope and fear tore through her. She unfolded it and began to read.
Psychic Luck Advancement Commission
We are pleased to inform you that on the third of May 2025, your application
for procreation was accepted and passed by unanimous decision by the board
of the PLAC.
Due to the unusually high psychic luck potential indicated in your profile,
you have been issued an unlimited license for child bearing.
We at the commission wish to be the first to congratulate you on your good
fortune. May you both have the many years of joy that comes with a large,
happy family.
If you have any questions regarding this letter, you may feel free to
contact us at 1-800-555-1732, or write to us at the above adress.
Thank you, and good luck.
Sincerely yours,
Gabriel Hanson
It was a dream—A dream, come true.
Margerie held the letter to her heart and cried tears of pure joy.
Government complex A-172
Suite 3000
Washington DC 00043-1066
Confirmation of application for legal procreation
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Singleton,
Director, Psychic Luck Advancement Commission