29. POWERBALL

Thatch! I yelled as I watch him scamper across the top of the dresser, jump down onto the chair, and run across the room. I also watched the newly purchased lottery tickets fly in various directions.

Annabelle! Missy! Is this your doing? I turned on her.

Moi? She turned her gaze from the computer screen. Little me? What did I do?

I think, you little brat, you’ve taught him the joys of watching things fall off ledges.

It didn’t fall; it floated! Thatch called from under my bed.

You humans will never understand the high, the ultimate rush, from watching something fall to the floor, Annabelle haughtily replied, as she tried to log off of Amazon before I caught her on it.

Fall or float, I only have two tickets. One for Mega Millions and one for Lotto. Where’s the Powerball ticket? And stay off that Amazon site.

She left the computer and joined me on the floor. I had pulled the dresser from the wall to see if the ticket might have floated under it.

Let me see, Annabelle offered. Yep, Thatch, Mega Millions and Lotto. Hmm, no Powerball; it’s just money.

I was too busy digging through the empty grocery bags in search of that missing ticket. All I could think was, with my luck I’ve lost the winning numbers for Saturday.

Thatch, she said, There are a lot of your toys under here, I see a couple of balls, and part of your toy bird.

And look! I added. The missing plug to the bathroom sink. You two!

I called the corner market where I purchased the tickets along with a few groceries. Perhaps the ticket had not dropped into the bag with the other two? No such luck.

Thatch, little Thatcher! Come out, baby. I’m not angry. I’m mad at myself for being careless.

Thatch’s head poked out from under the bed. I didn’t mean to lose it, he said.

Aw, little Thatch, I don’t think you did. I lost it.

He crawled out from under the bed and jumped onto the computer table with Annabelle.

Okay, I said. I’m going back to buy another ticket. Maybe if I retrace my steps, I’ll find the missing one.

I turned to grab my jacket, and there was a crash behind me. I turned back to find my keys, wallet, and cell phone lying on the floor under the computer table as two laughing cats ran for cover under my bed.

Okay, Thatch, you can relax, I said.  I found the missing ticket.

I had returned to the corner market and purchased another Powerball ticket.  The clerk insisted she had given me all three tickets and that one hadn’t been left behind.  On my way back to the apartment I carefully examined the litter on the sidewalk and curb, just in case the missing ticket had fallen out of my bag and was somewhere in those twenty yards between my apartment and the market.  No luck.

Jesus, I thought, someone’s found that ticket and they’ll win the big jackpot.  Just my luck.

When I returned to the apartment, I found that Annabelle and Thatch had been romping excessively while I was out.  The carpets were in tangles or heaps, their water bowl in the bathroom was overturned, there were bottles that had been sitting on the bathtub ledge lying in the tub.  As soon as I pulled the throw rug from under the bed, I found the missing ticket.  It was battered but intact, and there was a hole where one of Thatch’s claws had picked it up and dragged it across the room.

Where was it? he asked.  He and Annabelle sat on the windowsill, observing the daily traffic on West 82nd Street and laughing over the absurdities of human existence.

It was on the rug I found under the bed, I told him.

Oh, good, Annabelle said.  Now I can read my Backstage in peace without your griping.

That’s quite unfair, Missy, I told her.  I have been quite pleasant over this brouhaha. 

If you say so, she replied.  She sat up, yawned and stretched.  Come on, Thatch, let’s see what’s casting today.  After my Irish Rep audition, I want the next one to go better.  You can be a big help to me.

How can I help? Thatch asked her.

Well, she said, for starters, you could stay home.