I wish one day could be recalled and relived; just one day out of all
my forty years. Would that be asking too much? That day, the millennium
day, about four, or three or two years ago, is as clear in my mind as if
it happened yesterday. It was a beautiful day, just like every day, when
the people-mover dropped me at my door.
As soon as I stepped inside Olivia screamed, "Arthur Smith! You
bought lottery tickets! I was watching our financial monitor when
you got them. You know very well we'll never win. You've squandered
thousands on the lottery and we've never won a whiff."
I thought-clicked the switch in my head that cut off my hearing. It's
always amusing to watch Olivia's face turn red and contort when I don't
have to listen.
I grew weary of the game quickly and raised my hand, clicked back on,
and said, "Olivia, if we don't buy a ticket we can't win. This game
is huge; one-hundred-ninety-two million credits ride on this afternoon's
drawing." Then, I tried to change the subject. "Say, why are
you getting all dressed up?"
"Don't you remember the free city-sponsored drawing at the park
this afternoon? Everyone will be there. Now give me that lotto
ticket. You always forget to check the winners."
I gave it to her and said, "Everyone can't be
there."
"Everyone who's able to walk or crawl will be," she quickly
answered.
"All fourteen-thousand residents will personally watch the mayor
draw one winner's name to kick off year 3000
celebration."
"Darn it Olivia. I wish folks would leave me alone. Now, even
the mayor wants a piece of my time too. Do this, do that-everyone always
wants something, and whatever they want always involves me having to do
something. Now I have to go with you and the kids to the park. You
know we'll never win. You already said it; we never win
anything."
"Dad. Where are you?"
"I'm here Son. What is it?"
"After the drawing, will you take me to see my
girlfriend?"
"Of course Son. See, Olivia, I never get a minute of my own.
That law that says a teenager can't be out after sunset without an adult
is so stupid. It's just another drag on my time. It'd be great to be on
a deserted south sea island and not have this modern world to contend
with."
"You'd be lost without us Arthur, and you know it. Now get
ready. At least comb your hair and put on a clean
jumpsuit."
"Yes Dear."
"Dad. Dad where are you?"
"Sheila, in here dear, with your mother."
"Oh, there you are. Dad, will you take me to the library tonight
where I can access the major Internet? I've just got to finish that
school report."
"Of course I will," I muttered.
"Arthur, husband of mine, what would you do if you did win that
jackpot lottery?"
"Wife, would you go on an old fashion backpacking, tent
sleeping, camping trip with me?"
"Yes, but what would we do with our children?"
"Boarding school. They still have those, don't
they?"
"You wouldn't dump our kids, would you?"
"Sure I would. If I win, you just watch me."
"Couldn't we hire a personal tutor to home school them, so they
could go with us?"
"Olivia, I want to spend some time reading, and I'd like to
watch at least one interactive 3-D show all the way through without
having to do something for someone. I'd love walking by the ocean and
watching the waves roll in. I'd like to sit and watch the birds play and
roast hot dogs over a campfire without being interrupted by having to go
someplace. But what would you do, oh wife of mine, with all that
money?"
"We won't win. There is no use talking about
it."
"I know, but can't we dream?"
"Well, okay. I'd build a dream home, huge and exactly
right-perfect for all of us. I'd ask all our fiends and relatives to
come and stay with us whenever they wanted. We'd swim in our heated
Olympic size pool and we'd have our own personal fitness robots. We'd
take our children and travel anyplace, any time we wanted. Wouldn't it
be great to charter an orbiter to New York or the moon just for
breakfast and be home for dinner? We could go on a solar system cruse.
Or we could go to Hawaii just for a weekend, or a month, then stopover
in Paris for lunch on the way back."
"Olivia, that's very extravagant. I'd be happy just to have some
personal time."
That afternoon we were in the middle of the noisy, jousting crowd
when I asked, "Olivia, what's this drawing for
anyway?"
"Shhhh," she answered. "They're going to make an
announcement."
The mayor, a heavy-set silver haired man, stood on the dais and
raised his hand. Complete silence reigned as he said, "Arthur
Smith, please hold up your hand."
Finally, I'd won something. Then suddenly, I found myself
surrounded by armed guards. I couldn't help laughing hysterically
as they whisked me out of the crowd into a private skimmer. Calming down
a little, I heard the interior sound system playing soothing South Sea
Island music.
As I took a seat the announcer switched off the music and gave the
winning lotto numbers. My numbers. This was my lucky day; tears of joy
ran freely from my eyes. I'd won the lottery too!
Overcome with joy, I flipped the sound system's switch from play
to listen.
The mayor continued. "I have a confession to make," he
said. "Actually, we drew the winning name yesterday, and this
morning we activated listening devices to discover exactly what Mr.
Smith's wish of wishes really was. He made it perfectly clear that his
hearts desire was Warm Island solitude."
The sun dropped into the western Pacific leaving a
bleeding red gash in the darkening sky. Bright points of light began to
appear overhead as if on black velvet when I realized that I was getting
a chill. I laid my book aside, and started a campfire for roasting hot
dogs later. I cast a hopeful glance around looking for even a turtle to
talk to. But as always there was nothing, nothing at all-only me, my
books, and the Pacific.