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Visions 1999 Part Eight My heart started that whole staccato thing again as I pulled out my tickets. I had 20 - $1 each – and I noted the first (42) and last (61) numbers as I prayed for something in between. The MC reached into the box and swished around before pulling out a stub. He read the number, and by the fourth digit I knew it wasn't mine, and my heart just seemed to drop into my stomach. But there was no jubilant cry from the audience, no "I got it! I got it!" The MC read the number twice more to the silent crowd, all of us thinking the same thing – "Yes! Another chance!" The MC declared the number no longer valid, and reached for another one. The young couple to my left leaned forward as eagerly as I, staring intently at their tickets. I so knew how they felt. He read the number. Once again, the fourth digit was wrong. Damn! And once again, the audience was silent. Yes! I was still in the game. The couple and I shared nervous giggles, waiting expectantly for the next number. We were right there in the trenches together, and it was nice to share the hope and expectations – and the fear – with people who understood, even if they weren't Bronzers . The third number was read, and yes, the fourth digit was wrong, but no, my heart didn't drop – I just prayed for the silence I'd become accustomed to, and I was rewarded. Everyone in the crowded room could be heard in the collective sigh of relief. How long was this going to last? Did every ticket in that stupid box belong to some anonymous Star Trek or Star Wars fan who'd had no interest in the wonders that are James and Nicky – foolish person – and had therefore left hours before? I didn't know how much more of this I could take! The fourth number was coming out. My hands were shaking a little as he reached the evil fourth digit, and o my god, it was a 5! He read the last two – 51. My brain did a little short circuit – 51? That was between 42 and 61, wasn't it? I'm sure it was the last time I checked. I hurriedly, frantically, unraveled my tickets, looking for the damn 51. And there it was. 5 5 1.
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