Still, I would not say that I was depressed or damaged in any way. That’s the conclusion most of the potential workers drew when I gave away more of these details than I should have during their interviews. I had a hard time not staring at them as each interview progressed, always trying to read myself there, their impression of me, and their faces told me all I needed to know. Eccentricity, depression, maladaptive daydreaming, trauma, etc. . . . when later describing me to one of their friends, I’m sure they used all the terminology they learned on Dr. Phil. Some of them stared at my neck, where I had rolled up the collar to cover the scar.

But while it was true that I still had bad dreams, it was also true that their intensity had subsided. In the new sunlight of each morning, they quickly receded from memory. For the most part, I felt renewed.

What numbers had I used to win? I suppose it would show commitment to my cause if I had used the dates that my favorite Three’s Company episodes originally aired, or the birth dates of the show’s cast members, or some other date or statistic related to the show. But the truth is that I had used the birth dates of Geannie, Jim, and Hernan, all of which I knew by heart, and also the date of the robbery.

I had prepared myself for victory in the week leading up to the readout of the lottery number. That was when I first found Larwin’s name and number. I thought of Jim, what steps he would have advised me to take. When in doubt I had always called him, and just hearing his voice would calm me, make me feel more in control.

The night the lottery was drawn I felt too jangly to eat. My hands shook as I sat in my recliner clutching my ticket. For the occasion I had dragged out all of my Three’s Company DVDs and perched them around me. There were enough to place a few on either side of my head and on the armrests, and the remaining sets I placed in a circle around the recliner, and after doing so I felt strengthened. When the television announced the winning numbers, I stared at the screen for a minute, and then back at my ticket, then back at the screen. I had done it.

Stunned, I stared at the ceiling. Was I God? It felt possible. Beside the recliner was the list I had made days before: call an attorney, call an accountant. Nothing felt real but my future. For long minutes I did not move, enjoying the air of safe harbor the DVDs wafted up at me.

My phone, which I had left sitting on my kitchen counter, rang. It startled me, making me think for a second that someone already knew I had won, or could somehow see into my trailer, into my very brain. I rose and stepped out of my shrine, panicking a little when one of the boxes nearly fell to the floor.