Scratch

It had started snowing again.

Ruby gave her old car a little more gas, maneuvering it slowly through the cramped grocery store parking lot. The sun was going down, making it seem more like midnight than 5:30, but that's the way it always was in the winter: no sun, no warmth, and every time it snowed, everybody ran to the grocery store as if the apocalypse was coming.

Like right now.

No parking spaces. Ruby circled around, nothing close. She only owned three pairs of shoes and she had to keep the one pair without the cracked rubber soles in good shape for her job. So she was wearing the pair with the split seam, which let snow in and made her sock wet when it snowed.

Like right now.

Two more turns around the parking lot. The sun had gone down, now it was getting dark. Shadows of shoppers passed her, but none of them were going to their cars, only into the store. After a few moments she saw a pair of red taillights flash on, and she sat upright and put on the gas – but the car was backing out of a handicapped spot.

Another turn around and finally a space opened up, right next to the still-vacant handicapped spot. Ruby carefully edged her car into the space and parked.

Darkness continued to fall. She took a deep breath, looked at the bright lights of the grocery store for a moment, and her heart sank.

This was the hard part. Figuring out what she could afford.

She always had to do it in the car, before she went in, because once she went in she wanted to get her groceries and get out of there before anybody noticed her uneven haircut (did it herself, those are expensive), worn out coat (really it was warm, if from somewhere in the 1990s) and the fact that she bought only basics: bread, peanut butter, milk. Cat food.

The cat food was the worst part. She was probably going to have to give away her cat.

Ruby sighed and pulled out her wallet. The cat was company. It was a nice cat, not very involved or loving but then most cats weren't. The cat didn't ask for much.

But not much was too much when your hours were cut in a pandemic and your asthma kept you from getting other jobs.

Oh well. Ruby ran the list over in her head, mapped her route through the store, took a deep breath and got out of the car.

As soon as her sneakers hit the snow she felt the icy trickle of water soaking into her left sock. At the same moment three pairs of red lights lit up the snowflakes around her; cars pulling out, like taunting demon eyes. Of course. Ruby sighed again and walked around the car to go into the store.

And kicked something.

Ruby frowned, looked down. That wasn't snow, or a rock; it was solid. It was -

- it was a book.

A black book, small, a little bigger a deck of cards.

Ruby leaned down and picked it up. It was clean, there wasn't any snow on it; it wasn't even cold.

Somebody had dropped it. Somebody had just dropped it.

Her gaze went to the car in the handicapped spot next to her.

Ruby leaned over and tried to see into that car, but the windows were tinted. She opened the book, maybe there was ID inside...

A scratch-off lottery ticket fell out and landed in the snow.

Ruby stared at the ticket. HURRY UP HUNDREDS! The block letters screamed at her. EVERY TICKET A WINNER! WIN UP TO $20,000! LOADED WITH $100 PRIZES!

The blocks were scratched; Ruby saw a group of numbers staring up at her from the patch of silver-gray in the play area.

$20,000

It was a winning ticket.

Ruby looked up, around. Customers were coming and going, a few, nobody was looking at her and nobody was close. She looked back down again.

Snowflakes fell against the ticket, melted and pooled there, like tears. Ruby quickly reached down and plucked the ticket out of the snow, shaking it quickly, and thought of hummingbirds for some reason.

Then she very quickly got back into her car and sat there, holding the book and the ticket in her hands.

$20,000. She was holding $20,000.

She flipped the ticket over. It wasn't signed.

She could sign it.

$20,000.

Ruby's heart was pounding. She quickly opened the book and flipped the pages.

It was blank. But the owner of the book was probably in the store.

$20,000.

Ruby got out of the car and entered the grocery store.

Night had completely fallen, making the inside of the store too bright, glaring. Ruby walked up to the first store employee she saw, a dark-haired stock-boy mopping the floor. “Excuse me?”

The kid looked up. “Yeah?”

“Where's the lost and found?”

The kid frowned. “Why? You lose something?”

“No, I -” She held up the book. “I found this.”

The kid's eyes widened. “Wow, that's not all you found!”

Ruby blinked; she hasn't realized the ticket was sticking out of the book, the winning amount clearly visible.

The kid shook his head and leaned forward, his voice low. “You found that? Just cash it in. I won't tell.”

Ruby took a step backward. “Where's the lost and found?”

The kid made a face. “Look, lady, I – I know you, OK? I seen you in here before. You could use that money. It's OK, it's all a game anyway. You know? Finders keepers.”

Ruby's heart was pounding harder now. She looked up and saw a sign not far away, CUSTOMER SERVICE.

She practically ran away from the jerk stock-boy, and slipping the book into her coat pocket so nobody else would see it she went to stand in line.

And there was a line: An older woman who was returning a can of beans, and an old man, stooped with age, wearing a threadbare jacket and a blue corduroy baseball cap. Ruby got in line behind him and glanced at the kid; he'd gone back to mopping the floor but he was shaking his head.

He probably thinks I'm a sucker, she thought. Maybe he's right.

She pulled the book out and looked at it. For some reason it reminded her of the diary she'd had as a young girl – cheap, faux-leather, with a fake lock and a useless key. Her diary had been blue, not black, and she'd lost it years ago. Just as well, the dreams she wrote about never came true anyway…she looked up, but the line hadn't moved.

But the old man in front of her had; he had turned and was looking at her.

He had kind old eyes, blue once but now gray and hazy with disease. Ruby noticed writing on the cap, carefully stitched, KOREA/VIETNAM.

He smiled at her. She smiled back; she didn't know what else to do.

He kept staring at her. Uncomfortable, she looked away; when she looked back, he was still smiling at her, and nodded his head.

“I'm sorry, miss,” he said, in a voice as thin as tissue paper, “You look very much like my late wife.”

“Oh – oh, um...do I?”

The old man nodded. “She had pretty red hair, just like you. I hope you don't think I'm too forward to say so.”

Ruby swallowed hard, shook her head. “No, I'm -”

The old man blinked, his eyes misting with tears. “I can see you have a good heart, just like she did. God bless you!”

Ruby's eyebrows went up. She'd just realized something. Why hadn't she realized it before?

The older lady got her 66¢ back for the beans. The line moved. Ruby stepped up. Then she stepped back.

The old man was at the counter now, and reaching into his coat. “Good evening, young man. I'm sorry to trouble you, but my granddaughter bought me one of those...oh, you know, those tickets you get out of that machine over there, and you -”

“A lottery ticket?”

“Yes, that's it, one of those you have to find a coin and...well, I keep my coins in a jar in the bedroom so I didn't use one of those, I tried to find a bottle cap but I'd taken the recycling out already and finally I just used my fingernail -”

“OK, so did you win something?”

“I think I did, I'm not sure, one moment, I put it right in my coat inside a little address book my late wife gave me the night we were married...oh, now where is it...”

Ruby wasn't breathing. She stared. The old man turned around and looked right at her.

She ran out of the store.

Ran, ignoring the cold squishing water that was leaking into her sneakers and turning her feet colder with every step. She ran until she reached her car, skidded in the wet snow, and stabbed the key into the door lock. She hauled the door open, fell inside, and slammed the door shut. Put both hands on the steering wheel, gripped it like it was a snake trying to strangle her, and glared at the windshield and the falling snow. A moment passed, two.

“How in the hell did you do that?”

Ruby looked to her right. The dark-haired kid was sitting in the passenger seat, regarding her with blue eyes that were somewhat angry, somewhat curious.

Unafraid, she glared at him. “What do you mean?”

The kid leaned back and crossed his arms. “I mean, how did you listen to that old man's sob story and then you didn't give him his book back? He always gets the book back. And the ticket.”

Ruby turned so she could face the kid more fully. “What's your name?”

The kid looked Ruby up and down. “Call me Sam.”

“Sam. This was a test, wasn't it?”

Sam's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? What kinda test?”

“I mean like they do on TV, where they plant something somewhere to see if people are good or not and then film the results.”

Sam chuckled and shrugged, looking out at the snow. “Yeah, something like that.”

“You're the devil.”

Sam stopped laughing. He turned to her, eyes wide. “What? How – did you -”

Ruby held out her right arm and pulled up the sleeve of her coat. On the back of her right hand was a half-moon birthmark.

Sam's eyebrows went up and he shifted in the seat, pushing himself upright. “I knew you looked familiar! Ninth-grade slumber-party séance, right? Abby Williams' house?”

Ruby shoved the sleeve back down. “That birthmark's gotten me called a weirdo my whole life. Abby's slumber party was going to change everything. You showed up and swore in front of the most popular girls in school that you'd come back and make me prom queen. And then you stood me up!”

“That's right,” Sam eased back into the seat. “C'mon, kid, you read all them books! I never tell the truth. Screwing humans up is what I do!”

“And did you ever,” Ruby huffed as she yanked at her coat sleeve, even though it was all the way down on her wrist. “Abby Williams got to be queen instead, she made fun of me for a year. I cried every night, tried every way I could think of to get back at you. I finally forget about you and here you are in a dumpy little grocery store!”

“How'd you find me out?”

“Why would a kid mopping the floor of a grocery store smell like sulfur?”

“Smell like - “

“Like Abby Williams' slumber party.”

Sam made a face and slumped into the seat. “Huh.”

Ruby took a deep breath and squinted at the store. “Let me guess. The old guy's an angel?”

Sam's eyebrows went up again. “You're good.”

Ruby shrugged.

Sam leaned back, and Ruby saw a cigarette in his right hand. He took an angry puff on it. “Yeah, every time I -”

“Roll the window down.”

“What?”

“I have to sell this car someday. You can't get smoke stink out of a car. Roll the window down.”

Sam muttered something obscene, but cracked the window down about an inch. “Better?”

Ruby nodded.

Sam rolled his eyes and took another puff. “Anyway! Every time I try to grab a soul with the 'found lottery ticket' bit, Dad -” he sneered the word “- finds out and poof! My dopey brother Mike shows up and spoils the whole thing. Sometimes he's an old lady crying in the parking lot, sometimes he's a war vet trying to surprise his wife -”

“- but he always gets the lottery ticket back.”

“Yes! Dammit!” Sam slammed a fist against the dashboard. “Every time! You're actually the first human to leave that store with the ticket still in your hands. Always Dad is one step ahead of me, always that good spiritual nature He put in you wins out. I can't beat it.”

“Except this time, you did. Didn't – Mike – know I was going to leave? I thought angels knew everything.”

Sam shook his head. “You humans got free will. Makes you unpredictable. To everybody.”

Ruby reached into her coat pocket. The book was still there. She pulled it out and opened it; the ticket hadn't vanished. “So you got me.”

“I guess so.”

Ruby frowned. “What happens now? You drag me to hell?”

“I dunno.”

Ruby looked at him.

Sam shrugged again, hugely, and waved his hands, the spirals of smoke following like milky snakes. “I dunno! I mean, I guess I should, but – but I'm kinda impressed, ya know? You figured me out, you didn't freak, you didn't give Dad what He wanted. You're a human, your soul is putty in my hands and I could torture you for an eternity, but -”

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “But?”

Sam took another long, long drag on the cigarette and blew it out the window. He turned and regarded Ruby with a slight nod. “You're like the bratty kid sister I never had. That's kinda sweet.”

“And you owe me one.”

“And I owe you one.”

“And you like pissing off your dopey brother Mike.”

“I LOVE pissing off my dopey brother Mike.”

Ruby tilted her head at Sam.

Sam looked down and shrugged. “I mean, y'know as much as the devil can love anything. It's complicated.”

Ruby nodded, lifted the lottery ticket in her hand and turned it over, over, over. “Tell you what.”

“What?”

“You don't want to drag me to hell. I want sneakers that don't leak and to keep my cat. I'll make you a deal.”

Sam snorted. “Baby doll, Scratch here is the one who makes the deals!”

“A deal where your dopey brother Mike hardly ever wins again.”

Sam took another drag on the cigarette. “I'm listening.”

Ruby held up the ticket. “Make this real, and I'll use my unpredictable free will to help you piss off Mike and make my dreams come true at the same time. We'll both be winners.”

Sam peered at Ruby. Took another drag on the cigarette. Long, deep, right to the bottom of his lungs. Blew the smoke out into the cold winter night. Nodded very slowly.

Ruby put her hand out. “Shake on it.”

Sam put his cigarette between his lips and took her hand.

Ruby snorted. “Ice cold, just like it was in ninth grade.”

Sam tightened his grip and locked his gaze on hers. “You know my Dad's gonna find out about this, and Mike too. Fighting for human souls is like all Mike does. He won't make this easy on either of us.”

“I know,” Ruby shook Sam's hand away and looked down at the birthmark on her hand. “But I gave up on angels and dreams a long time ago. I'll bet he isn't that different from you.” She held up the little black book, the lottery ticket still sticking out of the top. “I just want to write my own happy ending, that's all.”

Sam's eyes darted between the book and Ruby, then back again. Finally he sighed and took another drag on the cigarette. “So. We're partners. Now what?”

Ruby glanced at the entrance to the grocery store. “Well, I still need groceries. And cat food.”

“I'm not going back in there. They'll make me mop the floor again.”

“Then stay here. I'll be right back.”

Sam shrugged and turned away. Ruby got out of the car.

Her head was spinning as she walked up to the store's entrance. She'd just made a deal with the devil. $20,000. Her life was going to change. She felt like dancing; she felt like throwing up.

She was at the door now, and paused as it automatically opened in front of her. She stepped forward but a shadow blocked her path. She looked up. The old man – Mike – was standing there.

No, not old. Young now. Tall, young and fair, with kind brown eyes. He smiled at her. “I think you've misplaced something.”

He smelled like cinnamon rolls. It's a trick, Ruby thought, and lifted her chin. “N-no, I...don't think so. Not yet. I'm tired of doing my best and still getting left behind. I'm going to change that, and you can't stop me.”

She thought maybe Mike would throw lightning bolts at her – or something – but instead he simply shook his head a bit.

“You're right,” He admitted, still smiling. “I can't stop you. Just...remember you're special. Keep ahold of that book, it's special too.”

Ruby looked down at the book in her hands. “I'm not special. I'm a loser. And this is just some random -”

She stopped.

She was holding a blue diary.

Her blue diary.

She looked up at Mike in shock.

His smile never wavered. “You knew your heart once, just like my Father does. Find it again. Sam's right about one thing: you have friends who will never give up on you.”

Ruby just stared. His eyes -

“Hey, lady, you mind not blocking the door?”

Startled, Ruby turned around and quickly stepped aside. A man was standing there, scowling, snow dripping off his hat and coat.

“Oh," Ruby quickly stepped aside. “Sorry, I -”

“Daydreamin'...” the grumbling grocery shopper plodded by her, shaking his head. He said more, but she couldn't make it out.

She looked around for Mike, but he was gone.

But the diary was still in her hands.

Her diary.

Now what?

Carefully, Ruby edged the book open. The lottery ticket was still there – unchanged – nestled against pages of writing fifteen years old. Ruby read a few words – cute, great, Bobby – and shut the book quickly.

She wasn't that girl any more. Or was she? Was any of that hope left?

Her gaze lifted, travelled to her old car still sitting in the parking lot with the Devil inside of it.

And an angel was watching her, somewhere in the falling snow.

Now what?

Get the groceries.

None of them knew what was going to happen now. Ruby pondered this as she slowly turned her steps inside to get a shopping cart, like someone who was waking up from a dream.

Nobody knew. Not Sam, not Mike, and certainly not herself. But there was something exciting about that, something raw and thrilling. Something rich.

A Devil and an angel were fighting for her soul, Ruby mused, and she had no idea what was going to happen, but she was ready, because as Sam had said, it was all a game; and “unpredictable” meant there were no rules.

Ruby grabbed a shopping cart, looked down at her weirdo half-moon birthmark, and smiled. No rules, no limits, and nobody knew what the future was going to hold. Yes, it looked like she was going to be making up her future

from scratch.

The End