A novel

Lucky
Winner

A decent, fading, recently divorced man decides to trade every human bond he has for money — and gets exactly what he asked for.

It had given him everything. It had taken nothing he had not handed it. He could not call it a bad trade. A fair one. He was almost sure. The almost was what was left.

Lucky Winner, a novel by JP Fleming - a waterlogged lottery presentation cheque for twenty-seven million dollars sinking through deep green water.

The scheme

Nobody buys the whole board. Not me, not anybody.

A provincial six-of-forty-four game has 7,059,052 combinations. Past a certain jackpot, buying most of the board stops being madness and becomes a trade. What he needs is a front man, and a monitoring system looking somewhere else.

Combinations on the board · C(44,6)7,059,052
Lines on one Combo-12 slip924
Price of one slip$924
Tickets two people can buy in four days5,040
Coverage achievedtwo lines in three
The prize$27,140,000

Everything spent was clean, lawful, documented and traceable to the dollar. The investigation, when it came, returned boring.

Evidence

The Lucky Winner

A Kanter Custom 52 — fifty-two feet of welded aluminum out of a yard in St. Thomas, Ontario. Twin inboard Cummins. Dave bought her in month three and named her after the cheque. She is also, eventually, the weapon, and nobody ever touches her.

The Lucky Winner at anchor over turquoise shallows inside the reef in Belize: fifty-two feet of welded aluminum, flybridge, tender on the foredeck, her name in gold on the transom.

Her name is on the transom. It is also the last thing Dave ever says: Me and the Lucky Winner. Back for dinner!

Evidence

Five vehicles, five economies

This book does character through machinery. What a person drives, how they bought it, and whether anyone was meant to notice.

Jon

Silver-grey Lexus

Bought two years old, without a test drive, off the reliability data. The Lexus was Jon whispering.

Jon

The Yota

Two years of weekends, the two of them; then a year of weekends, mostly Jon; then just — . Finished alone. His son has never sat in it.

Dave

2019 Dodge dually

A truck that announced him long before he did. Beside a porch last painted when his mother was alive to ask.

Nora

Black Jeep

Hers. Not the dually. The one the telegraph mentioned only as the black Jeep, and never once put her behind the wheel of.

The week

Grey minivan, base trim

One hubcap scuffed. The car-seat smell of somebody else's family still in the carpet. On the corporate card, for four days.

Ray

A work van

Parked where the dually had gleamed. He moved into the room his father slept in at nine.

Gallery

Add photographs

One image per vehicle, shot the same way — three-quarter front, available light, no styling. The uniformity is the argument.

The week

Four days, three hundred tills

SaturdayNightThe buying opens. Two people, one van each.
Sunday$25.5MThe province posts the roll. Every dollar on that sign is somebody else at a till.
MondayA second truck for the rest of it.
Tuesday7:30The cutoff. What four days reaches is what there is.
WednesdayDrawThe draw is instant. The count is not.

More rooms

What else belongs here

Ideas, ranked by how much they'd add. The rule I'd hold to: the site should work the way the book works — artifacts, not explanations. Show the thing; let the reader assemble it.

Strongest

The map of the money

Kamloops to Burnaby to three hundred tills across BC, then one wire to Belize. Four frames. The whole plot is a geography.

Strongest

The paper

This is a novel about documents. The ILLUSTRATION ONLY sheet. Article eleven on page thirty-one. Marty's file notes: the most valuable sentence in this file is the one I did not write.

Strong

A note on the numbers

The arithmetic appendix — cut from the book because the book explains itself. This is its correct home: a reader who finished and came looking.

Strong

The cabin

A small cold lake, a road the plow forgets until January, a new sauna, a trench to the gravel shoulder. Never named, and it should stay unnamed here too.

Good

The lanyard

Seven photographs of a badge on a cord. The book's quietest motif and its whole argument about institutions.

Good

The storm

The marine forecast for that Friday. A radar frame, whited out by its own rain.

Good

Jamie's Gibson

A guitar from before Jon was born, the finish gone off the top. Traded across a table like a chip because it was the fastest way to close.

Careful

Character dossiers

Only as records — a claims file, a registry entry, a photograph with a number beside it. Never as biography. Biography would break the method.