Short Story: Season 2
The Lottery
The Lottery
[Votes]
Shirley Jackson
Before reading expected to like my work huh
To get used to ok
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[Votes]
Shirley Jackson
Pada one morning on June 27, the weather was bright with the warmth of summer hanging in the air; flowers bloomed and grasses gave off a bright greenish color. Villagers began to gather in the town square between the post office and the bank at about ten in the morning; in some other cities with more population, the community began to gather, draw events can take up to two days and must have started by June 2. But in this village, which only has about three hundred residents, the process of drawing the lottery will only take less than two hours, so that the show can start at ten in the morning and people will still have time to go home and enjoy their lunch.
The children clearly gathered there first. School has just entered the summer break, and a sense of freedom has seeped into their psyche; they tend to gather together quietly before they begin to play boisterously and crowded. The topic of their conversation is still about the school, teachers, books, and punishments they have received. Bobby Martin had filled his pockets with stones, and the other children followed him and began to choose the most round and smooth stone; bobby, Harry Jones, and others, and Dickie Delacroix—the citizens recite it ‘Dellacroy’—finally make a large pile of pebbles in one corner of the city square and keep it from being taken by the other kids. The girls stood on the other side and only chatted with each other while glancing towards the boys. Very young children were either rolling on the ground or being carried by their older brothers.
Before long, the men began to gather and observe their children while chatting about the estate, the weather, the tractor, and the taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of pebbles, and they joked with each other in a lowered voice and their laughter was replaced with a smooth smile. The women, who were wearing their shabby daily clothes, began to arrive as well. They greeted each other and exchanged gossip while passing away to join their husbands. Then the women, who had been standing beside their husbands, began to call their children, and the children complied reluctantly after being called four or five times. Bobby Martin dodged when his mother was about to catch him, he laughed and ran back to the pile of pebbles. His father scolds him loudly, and Bobby quickly positions himself between his father and brother.
The raffle draw event is the same as the dance festival, youth club, and Halloween— event hosted by Mr. Summers who have the time and energy to devote to community activities. He was a jolly man who had a round face as well as a coal-mining business, and people felt sorry for him because he had no children and his wife was always angry at him. When he arrived at the square carrying a black box made of wood, people started whispering to each other, then he waved his hand and said, “Sorry, I'm a little late today.” The postmaster named Mr. Graves followed him from behind carrying a three-legged stool, then placed it in the center of the square, then Mr. Summers placed the black box he was holding on the bench. When Mr. Summers said, “Anyone willing to help me?” everyone seemed to doubt. Mr. Martin and his eldest son, Baxter, stepped forward to hold the box on the bench to balance while Mr. Summers stirred the papers inside.
The original equipment for the draw has long since been lost, and the black box that now stands upright on the bench was used even before Mr. Warner born. He was the oldest person in the village. Mr. Summers often persuaded the public to make a new box, but no one liked the idea, because they thought using the black box was a hereditary tradition that should not be replaced. There is a story that tells that the black box was made from the ruins of the black box before by their predecessors who founded the village. Every year, after the draw procession is completed, Mr. Summers began to talk about a new plan for making boxes, but every year too, the topic was left to evaporate and slowly disappear from everyone's lips, without the slightest effort to make it happen. The black box had become more shabby than before; now it no longer looked full black. On the one hand, the paint peels off and shows its true color, and in some places the paint has faded or stained.
Mr. Martin and his eldest son, Baxter, held the box tightly on a bench until Mr. Summers finished stirring the papers inside. Because of the many rituals that have been forgotten or ignored, Mr. Summers managed to persuade residents to use sheets of paper to replace pieces of wood that had been used for generations. Mr. Summers argued that using wooden pieces was a good idea, but that only applied when their village was small, but now the population has grown to more than three hundred people and is likely to continue to grow, so it has to use something that can be loaded in the box more easily.
The night before the draw, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made the sheet of paper and put it in a box, then locked the box in Mr.'s company vault. Summers to Mr. Summers was ready to take him to the town square the next day. In other days, the box was kept somewhere, sometimes elsewhere; it had spent a year in Mr.'s warehouse. Graves and last year under the post office floor, and sometimes put in the Martin family's grocery store and left abandoned there.
There is one troublesome thing to be resolved before Mr. Summers announced that the draw event had begun. He must make a list of the names of the head of the family and his family members. There is a special inauguration ritual for Mr. Summers, as the organizing committee of the draw, conducted by the postmaster; in the past, as the citizens remember, there was a song sung by the organizing committee. But it is only a song sung in a monotonous tone and not in earnest every year; some residents believe that the chairman of the committee used to stand while singing it, others were convinced that the chairman of the committee had to walk among the citizens, but years ago this part of the ritual was abandoned.
There is also a ritual of respect that the chairman of the committee once had to perform to everyone who came forward to draw the lottery, but this has also changed with the passage of time, so now the organizing committee is only required to speak briefly to everyone who comes closer. Mr. Summers was excellent at handling all of this; clad in white shirts and blue jeans and with one hand placed on top of the box while talking endlessly with Mr. Graves and Martin's family, he looked very worthy as the chairman of the committee and looked important in the eyes of his citizens.
When Mr. Summers finished speaking and began to turn to face the citizens, Mrs. Hutchinson came in haste, her shirt arm sagged down to the bottom of her shoulder, then she looked for a place in the crowd. “I forgot that today the draw was due to busy cleaning,” he told Mrs. Delacroix stood beside him, and they laughed crisply. “I think my husband is behind the house and is collecting firewood,” Mrs continued. Hutchinson. “then I looked out the window and the kids were gone, and then I remembered that it was twenty-seven and ran here.” He dried his hands with his apron, then Mrs. Delacroix said, “You're not late. They still talk there.”
Mrs. Hutchinson stuck her neck up and saw her husband and son standing in the front row. He patted Mrs' arm. Delacroix as a sign of farewell and began to break through the crowd of citizens. People were humoring while giving it a way to pass; two or three people were beating in a voice loud enough to be heard in the front row, “This is your Bini, Hutchinson,” and “Bill, respectively, he came also apparently.” Mrs. Hutchinson finally arrives at her husband's place, and Mr. Summers who had been waiting for him said in a carefree tone, “We think we should start this event without you, Tessie.”
Mrs. Hutchinson replied with a smile, “You don't want me to leave my dirty dishes at home, ‘kan, Joe?” then a soft laugh echoed in the crowd of citizens.
“Alright,” said Mr. Summers in a serious tone, “it seems like we better start it now, so we can go home soon and get back to work. Is anyone absent?”
“Dunbar.” Sahut some people. “Dunbar. Dunbar.”
Mr. Summers looked back at the list he brought. “Clyde Dunbar.” His word. “I just remembered, didn't he have a broken leg? Who will represent him pulling the lottery?”
“I,” say a woman and Mr. Summers turned to look at him. “Wife can represent her husband.”
Mr. Summers replied, “Don't you have a grown son, Janey? He can replace you do it.” Although Mr. Summers and all citizens knew the answer, but it was the duty of a lottery organizer to ask such questions officially. Mr. Summers waited with an expression that showed interest as Mrs. Dunbar finally replied, “Horace is still sixteen years old.” He said in a sorry tone. “Looks like I should replace my husband this year.”
“Good.” Said Mr. Summer. He made a note on the list he was holding. Then he asked, “Will Watson draw the lottery this year?”
A bachelor boy with a tall body raised his hand. “Here,” sahut. “I'll draw the lottery for my mom and myself.” He blinked his eyes tensely and lowered his head as some sounds from the crowd said, “He's a good boy.” And “Thank God that your mother has a son to represent her.”
“OK,” said Mr. Summers, “it looks like it's now complete. Was Mr. Warner coming?”
“I'm here,” sahut a voice, and Mr. Summers nodded as well.
Suddenly everyone was silent when Mr. Summers cleared his throat and checked the list. “Everything is ready?” tanyakanya. “Now I will call the names of the head of the family and the person I am calling please come forward to pick up the paper that is in the box. After that, do not open the paper until everyone is called. Is everything clear?”
All the citizens had listened to this so many times that they did not pay much attention to it anymore; most of them were silent, some were soaking their lips, and did not glance back and forth. Then Mr.Summers raised one hand and called, “Adams.” A man came forward. “Hai, Steve.” Greet Mr. Summers, and Mr. Adams replied, “Hai, Joe.” They smiled at each other stiffly. Then Mr. Adams put his hand in the box and took out a folded piece of paper. He grasped it tightly and returned to its original place but was a little further away from his family without glancing at the hand holding the paper.
“Allen.” Call Mr. Summer. “Anderson.
“It looks like lately raffle draws are getting done more and more often.” Said Mrs. Delacroix to Mrs. Graves in the back row. “If not wrong new last week we held it.” Further.
“Tak feels time goes so fast.” Answer Mrs. Graves.
“Clark.. Delacroix.”.
“That's her husband.” Mrs. Delacroixes. She held her breath as her husband advanced forward.
“Dunbar,” call Mr. Summers, and Mrs. Dunbar came forward with a definite step as a woman exclaimed. “Come forward, Janey,” and others say, “Well, so.”
“Next our turn again.” Said Mrs. Graves. He watched carefully when Mr. Graves advanced from the side of the box, greeting Mr. Summers in a cold tone, then chose a piece of paper from inside the box. Now, in the crowd of citizens, some people were grasping a folded piece of paper while twirling it in their hands restlessly. Mrs. Dunbar, who was holding a fold of paper, was standing there with his two sons.
“Harburt.. Hutchinson.”.
“Come forward to it, Bill,” said Mrs. Hutchinson, and the people who were near them laughed.
“Jones.”
“Someone said,” Mr Adams told Mr. Warner who stands next to him, “if the village in the north plans to stop holding raffle draws.”
Mr. Warner replied with a snort, “They are fools,” he replied. “They are willing to listen to the words of young people. If all their words were obeyed, they would incite everyone to stay in the cave alone, no one would want to work and end up living leisurely. If we used to say, ‘Undian in June, and corn will thrive.’ Then later we can eat grass soup and grains only. Anyway, the draw should always be organized,” he added firmly. “Even now the situation is bad enough because Joe Summers just poked jokes in front there.”
“Some villages are no longer hosting sweepstakes.” Mrs. Adams.
“They are just looking for trouble only,” comments Mr. Warner is persistent. “Basic of crazy people.”
“Martin.” And Bobby Martin watched his father come forward. “Overdyke.. Percy.”.
“I hope they can speed it up,” Mrs said. Dunbar to his eldest son. “I hope they can be faster.”
“They are almost done,” replied his son.
“You should get ready to run and tell your father,” said Mrs. Dunbars.
“Have seventy-seven times I attended a draw event,” said Mr. Warner as he walked through the crowd of citizens in order to advance forward. “Seventy seven times.”
“Watson.” A tall-bodied teenage boy came forward with an awkward move. Someone said, “Don't worry, Jack,” and Mr. Summers said, “Just relax, son.”
“Zanini.”
After that everyone was silent, and held their breaths, until Mr. Summers lifted the fold of his paper and said, “Alright, let's open each paper.” For a minute no one dared to move, and finally all the papers had opened. Suddenly all the women started talking at once, “Who can?” “What is Dunbar family?” “What is Watson family?” then a voice said, “Bill Hutchinson got it.”
“Go and tell your father,” order Mrs. Dunbar to his eldest son.
People started to look up at the Hutchinson family. Bill Hutchinson could only stand up without saying anything while staring at the paper in his hand. Suddenly Tessie Hutchinson shouted to Mr. Summers, “You didn't give it enough time to select the paper it wanted. I saw it myself. This is not fair!”
“You should accept this result, Tessie.” Mrs Sahut. Delacroix, and Mrs. Graves added, “Everything was given the same opportunity.”
“Be quiet, Tessie,” says Bill Hutchinson.
“Alright, please pay attention,” said Mr. Summers, “we have completed the first stage very quickly, now we have to do it faster in order to be completed in time.” He looked at his other list. “Bill,” says, “you drew the lottery for the Hutchinson family. Do you have any other family members in your family?”
“There's Don and Eva,” shouted Mrs. Hutchison. “Ask them to withdraw the draw too!”
“Daughters draw lottery with family of their husband, Tessie,”. Summers slowly. “We all know that already.”
“It's not fair,” says Tessie.
“I don't think there's anything else, Joe.” Bill Hutchinson said with regret. “My daughters drew the lottery with their husband's family; it's a fair rule. And now there are only my children in my family.”
“Then you draw a lottery for your family,” explained Mr. Summers, “and you're also the one who drew the lottery for the entire Hutchinson family, right?”
“True,” replied Bill Hutchinson.
“How many of your children are there now, Bill?” Ask Mr. Summers with official tone.
“Three,” answer. “There's Bill Jr., Nancy, and little Dave. Then Tessie and I.”
“Alright, then,” said Mr. Summer. “Harry, have you taken back the papers?”
Mr. Graves nodded and lifted the papers that were originally held by everyone. “Enter into the box,” order Mr. Summer. “Take also Bill's paper then enter also.”
“I think we should repeat it from the beginning,” chirped Mrs. Hutchinson as slow as possible. “I told you this is unfair. You didn't give him enough time. Everyone saw it.”
Mr. Graves took out all the remaining paper in the box, then picked out five papers and put them in the box. The wind blew away the papers that were spilled.
“Listen to me,” Mrs. Hutchinson tried to speak to everyone around him.
“Ready, Bill?” Ask Mr. Summers, and Bill Hutchinson glanced at his wife and children, then nodded.
“Remember,” said Mr. Summers, “take a sheet and do not open it until everything is done pulling. Harry, you help little Dave.” Mr. Graves held the boy's hand, which forwarded with him to the front of the box. “Take a piece of paper from inside the box, Davy.” Said Mr. Summer. Davy put his hand in the box and laughed. “Take a sheet only.” continued Mr. Summer. “Harry, you hold the paper.” Mr. Graves took it out of Dave's hand, clasped it tightly, and held it while little Dave just stood beside him and looked at him with a questioning expression.
“Next Nancy,” said Mr. Summer. Nancy was twelve years old, and her schoolmates breathed heavily as she advanced forward and tidied up her skirt, then picked out a piece of paper from the box. “Bill Jr.,” call Mr. Summers, and Billy, with reddened faces and big feet, almost kicked the box as he picked up a piece of paper. “Tessie,” call Mr. Summer. He hesitated for a moment, then circulated his gaze sharply around him. Finally, he clenched his lips tightly and advanced to the front of the box. He picked up a piece of paper quickly then held it behind his back.
“Bill,” call Mr. Summers, then Bill Hutchinson put his hand in the box and twirled it there, then took out his hand with a piece of paper in his hand.
All the people just kept quiet. A girl whispered softly, “I hope not Nancy,” and the whisper echoed and sounded all the way to the edge of the line.
“Everything is not what it used to be.” Said Mr. Warner in a clear voice. “People are no longer behaving the same as they used to.”
“Alright,” said Mr. Summer. “Open the paper. Harry, please open the little Dave's paper.”
Mr. Graves unfolded his paper and everyone sighed as he lifted the paper and everyone could see it was empty. Nancy and Bill Jr. opened their papers together, then both smiled beaming and laughed. They then turned around and lifted their paper up above their heads.
“Tessie,” says Mr. Summer. He just kept quiet, then Mr. Summers glanced at Bill Hutchinson, and Bill unfolded his paper and showed it to everyone. Paper's empty.
“Tessie who got it,” said Mr. Summers and his voice were cut off by someone. “Show us Tessie's paper, Bill.”
Bill Hutchinson walked towards his wife's place and forcibly pulled the paper from her grasp. There was a black dot on his paper, a black dot that Mr. had made. Summers last night with a pencil in his company office. Bill Hutchinson picked up the paper and everyone started to get crowded.
“Alright,” said Mr. Summer. “Let's finish this quickly.”
Although the residents have forgotten many parts of the ritual and also the original black box, but they still wear stones. The pile of stones that the children had made before was ready; there were many rocks on the ground along with the papers that had been blown off by the wind earlier. Mrs. Delacroix chose a stone so large that he had to take it with both hands, then he turned to face Mrs. Dunbar, “Come,”. “Come, fast.”
Mrs. Dunbar clasped the small stone in both hands, then replied with a disjointed breath, “I can't run. You go first, I'll catch up.”
The children were ready with their stones, and someone gave little Davy some pebbles.
Tessie Hutchinson is now in the middle of a crowd. He raised his hand desperately as the citizens advanced towards him. “This is unfair,” he said. A stone fell on the side of his head. Mr. Warner said, “Come, everyone, come on.” Steve Adams was in front of the crowd along with Mrs. Graves was beside her.
“This is unfair, this is not true,” cried Mrs. Hutchinson, and they all showered him with stones.
[finished]
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This just needs a little bit**** so don't be surprised if the character's name is very strange sorry oruh
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