It was a warm, sunny day in June when the villagers assembled for the lottery. Every resident aged between 18 and 50 was required to be there. The elders looked after the children while the younger adults carried out the ritual. Or just watched. The rule was that witnessing the ritual was mandatory, but participation was optional--unless you were chosen. Then, you had no choice.
The earliest arrivers were greeted by Mayor Shank and his wife. Shank loved the lottery. As soon as he came of age, he had sold his interest in the family pig farm to his brother, so he could run for mayor and become the lottery officiant. People always said that it was too bad, because he would have made a perfect pig farmer. With his protruding belly and hanging jowls, he somewhat resembled that livestock, and his similarly rotund wife made for an excellent match. But there was no denying, they were a natural fit for the lottery. The flair with which they conducted the proceedings was undeniable, and their participation was always enthusiastic.
As the morning sun rose, the crowd grew. As each family arrived, the members would mingle nervously and then settle on a spot together, their gaze fixed on the wooden scaffold and the box in the middle of the town square. The scaffold was a long A-frame structure of unfinished wood that resembled an oversized sawhorse. It had been put together last night by the carpenters' guild and was supported by a raised platform of highly polished wood. An abundance of ropes were scattered on the platform. Depending on the lottery's results, the scaffold would need to support anywhere between one and ten people.
The box was also of wood, and older than anyone could remember. It had once been painted (sky-blue, according to legend, to symbolize good weather), but was now so stained that its original color was impossible to discern. A steel padlock held it shut. Last night, the city council had overseen the deposition of over 200 slips of paper into the box, one for each family in the village. Then, the lock had been secured, they key entrusted to the mayor, and the box solemnly carried to its place in front of the scaffold. Next to the box was a small podium with a microphone.
The crowd continued to grow, and the mayor checked off each citizen on his list. The names would be drawn at 11:00, but first all had to be present. One of the last families to arrive was the Dunbars: Ted and Eve, followed by their children, Jake and Mandy. In previous years, Ted and Eve had come alone, but the twins had celebrated their 18th birthday last week, so they were now obligated to attend this, their first lottery.
Jake was a tall man of 40, with a muscular frame and skin tanned from his work in the fields repairing tractors and other machinery. His face was handsome, in a rugged sort of way, topped by short, dark hair just beginning to turn gray at the temples. Jake was every bit his father's son, and resembled nothing more than a younger version of Ted, perhaps an inch shorter and a shade leaner.
When it came to Mandy and Eve, although the familial resemblance was clear, the differences in their appearances belied the differences in their personalities. Mandy was short and petite, 5 foot zero and a hundred pounds soaking wet. As she recognized friends and neighbors, she would grin at them by way of greeting. Her smile was framed by her long, straight hair, which was such a dark brown it was almost black, contrasting with her pale skin and white cotton tank top. The faintly visible shape of her nipples hinted that she was wearing no bra, and her perky bust, large for her size, strained the fabric of her tank top, which just barely reached the top of her pleated navy skirt. The skirt stopped at the top of her slender thighs. Patent leather shoes and white knee-high socks completed the dainty look of her outfit.
Eve, meanwhile, scowled with annoyance at the people milling about. Her hair, almost as dark as her daughter's, was curly and beginning to frizz in the summer humidity. Eve was a good half-foot taller than her daughter, and larger in other ways too. Not fat, just curvier. Her heavier breasts were by necessity supported and enclosed in a bra, which was itself concealed by a loose button-down shirt. Also concealed, by a pair of khaki slacks, was Eve's lower body. Eve had always hated when men's gazes lingered on her legs. She was especially self-concious of her thighs, which had been widened by bearing her twins, and her ass, which had been teasingly described as "bootylicious" when she was in high school and had only grown in size and prominence in the 20 years since then. The khakis were her favorite pair of pants because they minimized these perceived flaws. Although Eve had what might be described as a classic hourglass figure, the components of her outfit worked to avoid giving any hint of voluptuousness to observers. A pair of practical tennis shoes and ankle-socks ensured that, with the exception of her hands, not a millimeter of skin was visible below the collar of her shirt.
Eve's scowl deepened when Mandy bent forward to pull up one of her socks, causing her skirt to ride up an expose almost the entire back of her white cotton panties.
"If you wanted to show the whole town your panties," Eve hissed into her daughter's ear, "you could have just taken out an ad in the paper."
"Gee, mom," Mandy turned to face her mother, "maybe there would be more interest if you ever let me buy anything besides plain white."
Two pairs of blue eyes glared at each other, one with reproach, the other with defiance. "You're too young to be tempting men with your body," said Eve. "And if I see any more displays of exhibitionism, I'll have your father bend you over his knee and spank you."
"Don't you think I'm too *old* for that?" replied Mandy. "And I'm sure daddy thinks the same. Last time you had him spank me, he was blushing the whole time. He was so embarrassed, he could barely bring himself to tap me on the butt."
"Then I'll do it myself. And I'll make you *sting*."
"Girls, girls," interrupted Ted jovially, "no need to fight." He had doubled back after noticing that they had stopped following him and Jake. "I found a good spot for us to stand. It's right up front, so we can see everything."
"Let's just stay towards the back," said Eve. "We can watch the first part of this hick ritual and then go back home in time for lunch."
"It's not a hick ritual, it's a tradition," replied Ted. "And I wish you wouldn't put it down just because you didn't grow up here. It helps bring the community together. And it's part of maintaining the region's prosperity. You know what they say: 'Lottery in summer, else the crops'll be a bummer.'"
"That's just superstition. And I don't know why you defend it so much. You've never seen the second half of a ceremony."
It was true. Every lottery ceremony had two parts. After the first part, spectators were free to go if they chose. Ted had been at college for the first few lotteries after he came of age. Then, he had married Eve and moved back home. They had attended each lottery after that, but she had always dragged him away before the second half began.
"What happens in the second half?" asked Mandy.
"What happens in the *first* half?" asked Jake. "We've never been to one before, and you haven't told us anything to expect. We don't even know what the winners get."
