They drew the single ticket from the rubbish bin of hope. It was held up for every one to see as the Earth Day holiday, all expenses paid. Some one would be going to Borneo to see the orang-outangs. Everyone listened, the hall was quiet. Then they read the number.
"F27", the man kept saying as he held the microphone and waited. There was a rustle of paper as people checked and murmurs of disappointment.
Max stood, a beer in his hand as he watched. Eventually he pulled his ticket from his back pocket. He'd never won anything and bought the tickets to support the club that had given him so much.
There was a hubbub in the club as people searched for the ticket. Max didn't look at his ticket immediately. His gaze went around the room looking for the commotion of the winner and he drank a little more beer. It was Ellen who saw it and stood momentarily as she reread it.
"F27", she said quietly. No one was moving. Max's head was back as beer slid down his throat.
"F27", she said again, louder for his benefit. Max looked at his ticket. She watched as he looked up and then reread it. He held it a moment as he thought and quietly put it back in his pocket. She wondered whether he had misread it and looked at him again. He gave an involuntary nod as he looked back at her. Then he pulled it from his pocket and gave it to her.
"Yours," he whispered. She took it and raced to the centre of the room, whooping and jumping as she held out the ticket.
Max watched with a smile on his face, he'd known Ellen for many years and was pleased to se her so happy.
After receiving the details of her prize, the excitement and congratulations, Ellen remembered Max. She tried to find him but he'd gone. He was a quiet, very private man who came for a short time most Friday nights to enjoy the atmosphere. It was rare for him to speak to anyone.
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Next day, Ellen, with a box of chocolates and a slab of beer, was at his front door. She knocked until her knuckles were sore. A radio was on inside and the door was open. She went round the side of the house and admired the sunflowers growing in the garden. At a gate she shouted.
"Hello!" A little dog, with the fur on its back raised, rushed to her, barked and threatened. After a time she recognized the voice that directed the dog to "come here." She waited longer, her arms ached as she balanced the chocolates with the slab of beer. She looked around.
The whole back yard was full of cages and little else. She could see them built in lines, and had never seen so many. She changed the beer slab's weight from one arm to the other as she heard a gate being shut.
Soon there was the noise of birds flying as Max emerged from among them and the little dog ran to him as though to seek direction and provide him with protection. He seemed embarrassed by her presence. As he opened the gate, the little dog tried to rush at her. He quickly picked it up, gave a pat and told it to behave. He was shy about receiving his gifts though he appeared to be immensely pleased.
Ellen had often looked at Max while at the club. She had noticed him to be quiet and usually on his own. He was never there for long and she wondered about him. She knew his wife had died a long time ago, that he had no children and there was something that was tragic.
She had been waiting for a chain of circumstance to be able to approach him and begin a conversation. He was interesting, if only because he seemed to have control over what he drank and he never gambled.
She was tired of being the butterfly, flitting round the room, being sociable but never finding some one substantial. She was tired of the one night stands with men she couldn't stand, who notched her on their metaphorical bed posts and sometimes satisfied her need. She wanted a man with sufficient substance that they could be explored. not just a set of testicles and a penis that ejaculated once, much too early and always inside her.
She dearly wanted a man who would find her interesting, who wouldn't just stick it in and leave soon after, having achieving his satisfaction. She wanted a man who would explore her and love what he found, who would find at least one orgasm for her and enjoy playing in her play ground.
She wanted to know why he'd given his ticket to her. Not knowing had bothered her. When she asked he looked at her without knowing what to say and after some time he said,
"Come." Slowly he took her round the cages. At every cage he stopped and identified the breed of bird, the scientific name and the common name. She watched him, fascinated by his knowledge.
"The orange bellied parrot. Nearly extinct," he said at one cage. "I'm trying to breed them here so that they can be released and added to the numbers in the wild. It would be good if they had a broader diet, so I take the first egg they lay and use another species as a surrogate. The birds always make up for the lost egg and it has little effect on them. There are fewer than fifty in the wild now and I have more than that here. Soon, I hope to begin training them to live in the wild."
At the Gouldian finches he said that in the wild they were thought to be extinct until last year when a family of them was found in Western Australia. The little birds were beautiful and they made "Peep, peep," noises as they flew around the cage. I'm hoping to release some soon," he told her. Then he told her of a respiratory mite that had killed what was previously thought to be the entire wild population.