Zero State

Avery started walking back downtown, knowing precisely where he was heading, stopping only once to dig a pen out of his backpack to sign all of the tickets, as well as print his name and other identifying information in the space provided. Lottery tickets were bearer instruments, but, once signed, could only be redeemed by the signatory.

When Avery was a Senior in high school, a little more than two years ago, he and his friends had been tapped to compete on their school's Mock Trial team. They all assumed roles within a specific scenario to try a mock court case based on a recent actual case. During this process, they had been assigned a local attorney to help them with the ins and outs of the legal arguments. Avery had spent more than a few hours learning how to lawyer from one of the best in town.

Avery looked up when he got to the small office building on Putnam Street near the courthouse and, reading the names on the door, verified that Evelyn Scott was still an associate there and walked in.

“I’d like to see Mrs. Scott please. I don’t have an appointment.”

The paralegal behind the desk looked up above her cat-eye-rimmed glasses: “You’ll need to make an appointment.”

“Okay” Avery replied, “How do I do that?”

Looking at her computer screen, the woman said, absently “She doesn’t have an opening for several weeks. What is this concerning?”

Avery held up his hand, showing the winning tickets, and in a voice loud enough to be heard through the open door behind the paralegal’s desk, said “I just won the PowerBall, and I need a lawyer.”

Not more than two seconds later, Evelyn Scott appeared in the open door, and, after skeptically eyeing Avery, said “Come back here.”

Avery followed through the open door and Evelyn closed it behind them before swinging around the side of her desk to sit down.

“How do I know you?”

“You were our mock trial advisor two years ago at Frontier.”

“That’s right! How did you guys do?”

“Well, they didn’t make a ruling, but they had good things to say about our arguments; so I guess that’s something.”

Evelyn held out her hand in a 'gimme' gesture; “That’s all they ever really do. I’m glad to hear it. Now let’s see those tickets.”

Avery passed the signed tickets to Evelyn and without even looking at them, set them down in front of her.

“What do you need me to do?”

“I need to claim anonymously; as anonymously as possible.”

Evelyn walked over to the door, opened it, and spoke to her paralegal on the other side.

“Clear my morning, have the bakery send two large coffees and a half-dozen blueberry muffins. Avery,” turning back toward her prospective client, “how do you take your coffee?”

“Black, straight up.”

She left the door open, and sat back down at the desk. “We’ll do a few anonymous LLCs; one in New Mexico, one in Wyoming and the last in Delaware. I’ll set up one LLC as the agent for another and we’ll keep the third in reserve for transferring assets. When did you want to claim?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t have a license or a car so I thought about catching the bus up to Columbus tomorrow and getting a hotel…” Evelyn cut him off.

“I’ll put you in a hotel here in town.” She passed the tickets back to Avery. “You hang onto these; do not let them out of your sight. And I’ll come get you in a few days. My husband is a police officer, he’ll ride up with us and we’ll take you to get the paperwork done.”

Avery, suddenly aware of how serious this all was, responded: “This is all very Jason Bourne.”

Evelyn softened her expression to meet Avery’s sudden panicked mood.

“This is serious business. Your life isn’t about to change; it already has. From this point forward, everyone who finds out about your sudden wealth will try to find a way to take it: friends, family, long-lost relatives will hunt you. Whatever level of privacy you thought you enjoyed or whatever level of discretion you thought you exercised before now will not be enough to keep you safe or sane. I don’t mean to scare you, but I really do.”

Avery nodded in acquiescence. “What do I need to do?”

“How is your relationship with your family?”

“Strained. I live with them, but I don’t necessarily trust them. My dad’s a good man, but he’s not a very pleasant person to be around.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of my mother. I think she’s an undiagnosed narcissist.”

“That can be bad. How are your friends?”

Avery explained his interpersonal relationships with others while Evelyn occasionally sent texts or typed out an email. They hashed out the details over coffee and muffins. Avery signed a retainer for Evelyn stating exactly what she would charge him once he received the sum of his designated jackpot winnings. It was modest: only about $12,000 for services, but he also agreed to pay her a retainer of $25,000 to keep her as his primary counsel. They discussed the contract and their legal obligations until about noon when a broad-shouldered man appeared in the doorway.

“Avery, this is my husband, Allan. He’s going to take you down to the Hampton Inn." She stood up and held out her hand. "Thank you for coming to see me; I'm glad you didn't try to handle all of this yourself. Bad things happen to lottery winners who do that."

"Thank you for all your help. I appreciate you taking the time to work with me."

Allan spoke then "We should get going. I need to get you set up before lunch time." Avery nodded and followed him out of the building.

Avery got in the front seat next to Allan and put on his sunglasses and hat, sitting down in the seat so as to not be seen.

"Sit up. We're just two dudes driving." Allan said. "The best thing to do is to just act like everything is normal."

Avery sat back up in the seat and looked around the car. It was clearly Allan's POV, but there were indications that he also used it for police work: the light bar at the top of the front windshield, a few extra controls on the dash for the lights and, presumably, the siren. The suspension had obviously also been modified as Avery could feel it tighten up around the few turns they took.

"Once we get to the hotel, don't open the door for anyone but myself and Evelyn. I've got a bag in the back with a few changes of clothing, shaving kit, and other stuff. One of us will bring you meals and anything else you need. Are you allergic to any foods?"

"Not that I know of, no nut allergies or anything like that."

"Good, that makes it easy. There's a refrigerator in the room and I have some bottled water for you as well."

They took the back way to the Hampton Inn, passing by the sewage treatment plant on their way before finally pulling into the parking lot of the hotel. Allan got out of the car and led Avery to the trunk where he pulled out a Wal-Mart bag with a few hoodies, sweatpants, boxer briefs, t-shirts and socks. He grabbed the 12 pack of bottled water that was there as well and led the way inside the hotel.

The room was interior access only with a view of I-77 just right where it crossed the river into West Virginia. It had a king bed, a desk and desk chair and a whirlpool tub.

Allan put the water on the furniture, handed Avery the key and turned toward the door.

"I'll be back later with food. Keep the door locked and stuff a piece of toilet paper into the peephole; leave a tail on it so you can pull it out. Remember: no one but myself or Evelyn."

"Got it."

And that was Avery's life for the next four days. He hung the "Do Not Disturb" tag on the door handle, sat on the bed and watched TV. He slept when he was tired, pissed, shit, ate food when they brought it, but nothing else happened until Sunday evening when they both showed up. It was "go" time; Monday they were going to Columbus.

Allan passed Avery a garment bag on his way in and Evelyn sat down at the desk. She took note of the state of the room as she passed through it: bed made, soiled laundry rolled and tucked into the plastic Wal-Mart bag; empty water bottles lined up along the floor next to the garbage can:

In case he needs to refill them. She thought. Smart.

"Okay Avery, tomorrow's the big day. Are you ready?"

"Will I be making a statement?"

"No. Anonymous winners aren't obligated to speak. I will, however, be making an appearance because someone has to receive the check. You'll follow us in, sign the paperwork, and they will initiate the bank transfer. That will take two to three days and by the end of the week you'll see the first deposit. The first deposit will be for the "Ohio" amount of the jackpot less your tax withholding. That amount will be a minimum of 23%. You will be able to have them withhold more, which I recommend, so that you won't have to worry about paying taxes. Within 30 days, the remainder of the lump sum will be deposited. I recommend at that time that you start considering a financial planner."

Avery nodded at this. "I think I'll just go ahead and have them pull the expected 37%; that's how much I've calculated that they'll take out in realized taxes."

"That's up to you. I've set up all of the LLCs and placed you as the sole signatory on all of the accounts. Only you can withdraw funds from the accounts. I've also drafted your will to set up your estate should anything happen to you." Evelyn slid the document across the table to Avery; "As requested it names your father the sole executor and beneficiary of your estate should you pass. In that event, control of all LLCs and their accounts will default to him."

Avery took the document and put it into his backpack.

Evelyn stood and moved toward the door where Allan stood, "Try on the suit. It should fit." She nodded to the garment bag.

"Why am I wearing a suit? I'm not getting in front of the camera."

"Your world is different; remember?"

"Right."

"Wear the suit; tie and all. You'll be fine. We'll be here at 8:00 am sharp. Breathe, relax, smile."

Avery held the door for them as they left and after he locked himself back in his room, opened the garment bag.

The suit fit well enough with the collar a little too tight and the waist a little too loose but he managed.

The next morning he tied on the tie and waited on the edge of the bed until the knock came. Checking the peephole and seeing Allan at the door he picked up his bag, the bag of laundry and the empty garment bag and followed him to the car.

It wasn't his car but a newer model Nissan SUV which rode a lot smoother than his car.

"Must be Evelyn's ride." He thought and settled in for the drive.

“So, Avery” Allan began shortly after pulling onto I-77, “have you given any thought to what your life is going to be like after you’ve settle down with all of this?”

“Well, I want to go back to school.”

“What happened there?”

“I dropped out after a semester. But when I got back here, I realized that I had made a mistake.”

“So, you went away to college?” Evelyn asked, turning to look back at Avery.

“Yep. OU.”

“Oh, really! I have a niece who is just finishing her freshman year at OU.”

Avery, skeptical, thinking that his lawyer was trying to find a way to subsume his new wealth into her dynastic legacy, kept the smirk from his face.

“That’s cool. What does she study?”

“Oh, she’s an art major. She’s getting ready to head home for the summer, but they come down to visit on occasion.”

She turned and looked at Allan “Hey, maybe they should meet up for a coffee. What do you think?”

“I think maybe you let your niece relax for the summer.” He paused and then added: “And maybe let your client handle his own dating life.”

And that was the end of that conversation, but Avery wasn’t convinced that it was the end of the ideas swimming about in his lawyer’s head. The rest of the trip passed in comparative silence but for Evelyn answering a few phone calls and occasionally asking Allan about random things around the house. When they approached the by-pass, I-270, around Columbus, Avery spared a glance for the exit that would have taken him passed his old apartment in Reynoldsburg. He recalled his last few days in Columbus when he lived here the previous year. There had been a house party and there was drinking and a bit of weed being passed around the place until suddenly, there was a disturbance outside and several of the party guests had begun fighting. It ended with gunfire and the next day, Avery packed as much as he could into two backpacks and set out on the road, heading back to Marietta . . . on foot.

Columbus was not for him. Now, here he was, driving head-long back toward the center of the state capital. When he left he would be a different man entirely.

The lottery building had its own parking lot. Normally, Allan would simply show his credentials and they’d let him in, but, discretion being one of Evelyn’s new favorite words, they simply drove in, parked and walked to the elevator. When they reached the appropriate floor, Allan stepped out, looked around, and gestured for Evelyn and then Avery to exit.

Avery paused, took in a breath and then walked out onto the floor. He was suddenly overcome with a sense of slow-motion tunnel vision as the approached the etched glass doors of the lottery administrator. Allan opened the door and followed them through where Evelyn walked directly to the receptionist desk and told the woman that they had an appointment.

They were led to a back room where Avery produced the three tickets and, in exchange, he was presented with two forms to sign. He looked to Evelyn to his right.

“Go ahead and sign. One says that you accept the lump-sum payment anonymously and the other authorizes them to deposit it into the designated account, here.” She pointed to the account number on the sheet, which she had provided Avery the previous day, along with all of the documentation and the debit card assigned to it.

Avery’s hand was steady as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the black, medium point, Bic pen and signed the documents. He looked at the pen and smiled; he had just picked it up randomly a few weeks ago at the store. It had been the one which he had used to fill out the pick sheets for the numbers on the tickets that he had just turned over. Some might have thought to just drop the pen in the garbage and buy a nice fancy new Cross pen or some other such nonsense. Avery slid the pen back into his pocket and guarded it with his life.

There was hand shaking and champagne popping; Avery was only 19 years old, but that didn’t stop Evelyn from having a glass in his place. Allan stood by and watched the entire spectacle with a startling degree of indifference as Evelyn made a prepared statement on behalf of the principal: “He’s considering his options and expects to make several philanthropic gestures in the next several months”, “He’s obviously worried about his privacy/safety” et cetera. In the end, the media got exactly what they had expected to get: leave the new multi-millionaire alone.

Later that evening, Evelyn dropped Avery back at his parents’ house on County Road 46.

“I’m going to need you to call me immediately if anything happens. Congratulations Avery, I hope you do well.”

Avery got out of the car and stood with the door open.

“What’s your niece’s name?” He asked before she drove off.

“Allison.”

“Well, when she’s in town, let me know; I think I’d like to meet her.”

Evelyn smiled “I’ll see what I can do.”

Avery walked up the gravel driveway to his parents’ house and walked in the front door. His dad turned to look over his shoulder from watching TV.

“Where you been Ave?” It had been five days since his parents had seen him.

“I’ve been in and out, but mostly out.” He replied as he crossed the room and dropped his backpack beside the chair into which is unceremoniously sat. He had spent the majority of the drive back to the mid-Ohio valley considering this move, and, in the end, he had chosen to be as fair as possible with his family.

“We have to talk.”

“Did you find a job?” His mother asked.

“Not quite. But I will be able to continue to pay rent, if that’s your concern.”

His dad spoke next, “My concern is that you’re not sitting around here wasting away and goofing off with your friends without a plan for your future.”

“Well, we need you to pay rent too” his mother added, “living here isn’t free.”

“Well, it’s free for you; six acres of family land . . . the last six acres of family land from the original grant . . . “ Avery stopped before he started a shouting match. “That’s not the point.” He took a breath. “I won the PowerBall.”

She dropped her fork. As it rattled to the floor, his dad sat his beer down on the table and exhaled.

“Shouldn’t you just move out on your own then?”

“I don’t want our relationship to devolve to that. I’m going back to OU in the fall; not having the money was the one thing that was keeping in from happening, considering that I lost my financial aid after dropping out and your income is too high now anyway. I’d like to stay here and keep this house as my address of record.”

“How does that benefit us?” This from his mother.

“I’ll naturally pay off the house; it will be yours free and clear, on the condition that if you ever have to sell, I get first right of refusal. That will free up the house payment to use for other things and we’ll always have a home on the family land.”

“Is this a good thing for you?” His dad asked.

“I think having a stable home and a permanent address is good for me. I also have somewhere to come during breaks. If you recall, OU has a long winter break: from early December until after New Year; more than five weeks in many cases. I’d also come home for spring break and spend summers here as well.”

“Well, we can’t keep asking the girls to move rooms around.” His mother said.

His dad, an obvious light bulb lighting up behind his eyes, chimed in this time: “Would you be willing to spend the summer helping me build an addition?”

Avery thought for only a second: “A four-car garage & shop with a two-bedroom efficiency above it for Andrew and I.”

The mention of Avery’s older brother brought a sour look to his mother’s face.

“I think if we’re building an extension, it should be for your sisters.”

“I think if we’re asking our son to finance an addition, it should be for him and whomever he says. I’m two-days away from finishing up at Fifth Street and Scott hasn’t finished the deal on the Cisler house yet. I’ll get in touch with United tomorrow and get them out here with a backhoe and you can start excavating. I’ll use my business account.”

That settled it in their opinion. Avery picked up his bag and carried it upstairs, tossing it on his bed laying down to turn on the flat screen. He fell asleep and slept fitfully. His dreams bothered him sometimes. He was always there, and he was always the hero, saving the day. The same girl kept showing up in his dreams though. It had always been a slowly maturing version of a girl from a long-past memory.

That girl stayed in his thoughts, and lived in his dreams. She would show up often just to talk. Sometimes they would talk about sand burrs, locusts, and cartoons; other times she was angry with him that he hadn’t found her or he was mad at her for leaving. But, she grew as he did and they were friends in the one place where they could always talk:

In Avery’s dreams.

That night she asked him about a girl named Allison and if he really liked her. Avery didn’t know how to defend himself against an accusation made by a girl in his dreams about a real-life woman about whom he knew nothing. He tried to steer the conversation toward more mundane and banal things; things like sand burrs and locusts, and for the first time the girl in his dreams left him and she didn’t come back. Avery woke afraid, and couldn’t get back to sleep. He check the time and it was nearly 6:00 am by the time he gave up on sleep and went to take a piss. He flushed the toilet and as he left to go back to his room he heard his parents shower turn on.

Avery instead turned and went downstairs to the kitchen, making certain that he stepped on all of the stairs sweet spots (his dad had installed them to purposely squeak when climbed) and started the coffee pot. His dad would want a cup as well and as it dripped, Avery poured himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. He sat at the table with his back to the patio door and stared blankly at the living room wall opposite his seat at the table.

His dream girl had upset him. She left; that never happened. Oddly enough, for the first time ever, he couldn’t picture her while he was awake. He could only see the seven year old girl in the pink dress; not the aged-up version of the girl as what he thought she would look like contemporaneous to the time. His musings were interrupted when his dad came in and poured a cup of coffee into his travel mug.

“I’ll try to get the backhoe out here today and a fuel pup. If you could, just mark off a 100’ from the corner of the steps and go straight out from there. You can handle the ‘hoe I think so if you want to, go ahead and start excavating.”

Avery followed his dad outside and he continued to explain.

“Remember, the septic and water lines run down this direction too so be careful when you get close to where they are. Can you eyeball it?”

“I’ll have to; we didn’t bury it with a tracer wire; even a metal detector wouldn’t help us now.”

“Yeah. Go ahead and knock down the old porch on the trailer but try not to rip off any of the siding; it’s still got storage in there.”

Avery nodded and his dad left for his job site. When Avery went back inside his mother was getting ready to leave as well.

“I know I shouldn’t have to say this, but I would like you to use some discretion regarding my lottery win. Please don’t announce it to the world. No one needs to know.”

“It’s okay.” His mother began, “I don’t believe you anyway.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He left her standing there and went upstairs to shower. By the time he was done, she was gone. Avery’s sisters were waiting at the end of the driveway for their school bus and he was sitting in front of the TV watching the Today show. He finished off the pot of coffee and had just finished cleaning out the pot, when he heard a large vehicle backing up into the driveway. He walked outside and saw the driver hit the bridge over the creek perfectly and jump out. He hooked up the small trailer (the diesel pup) to the backhoe and drove it all off the flatbed.

“Where do you want me to park it?” The driver yelled over the drone of the diesel.

Avery pointed up to the front of the old mobile home that use to be the family house.

“Just there right in front of the trailer. If you can drop that pup off to the side, that would be great too.”

“Can do.” The driver rolled the backhoe up the driveway, backed the pup to one side of the trailer, unhooked and chocked it and the pulled the backhoe to the front of the trailer.

Avery found a can of survey paint and a 200’ tape in the trailer. He marked off the ground and began to do some demolition. After he cut the porch from the trailer and dragged it to the burn pit, he started with the backhoe and started digging. He managed to not cut through the water or sewer lines and leveled out a 100 foot by 50 foot level pad on the east end of the house by the time his dad got home at 5:00.

They both stood and eyed this big giant hole in the ground that Avery had just made and nodded silently to each other an no one.

“Not bad Ave.”

“Thanks dad.”

It was one of the more pleasant exchanges the two had ever had. It was the beginning of a respectful relationship; too bad it only took nearly twenty years. The next morning, Avery started working on the forms for the concrete footers and by Friday afternoon, he and his father were floating out the footers for the poured concrete foundation walls.

“Next week we have to turn it over to the pros.”

“Is that work beyond our scope?”

“We don’t have the forms to pour concrete walls ourselves; if we tried the mix would set before we could get it all done. They’ll set up forms for the full wall height, do the rebar, and pour the concrete from one truck in a day.”

“Nice. Then its what: 14 days to cure before we can start on the framing?”

“Yep. Enjoy your time off.”

“Will do.”