Old Man Warner: A Short Story

Mr. Graves had selected the five slips and put them in the box. He dropped all the papers but those onto the ground.
"Ready, Bill?" Mr. Summers asked.
Bill Hutchinson, with one prolonged glance around at his wife and children. Nodded.
“Harry, You help little Dave." Mr. Graves took the hand of the little boy, who came willingly with him up to the box.
"Take a paper out of the box, Davy.” "Harry, you hold it for him." Mr. Graves took the child's hand and removed the folded paper from the tight fist and held it while little Dave stood next to him and looked up at him wonderingly. "Nancy next," Mr. Summers said. Nancy was twelve, and her school friends breathed heavily as she went forward swishing her skirt, and took a slip daintily from the

Now let’s get this over with.” Old Man Warner hollered.
At that moment the crowd was frozen looking at their friends and neighbors, innocent children and their mothers.
“ C’mon now, it’s what has to be done” old man Warner spoke, as he picked up a pile a stones and handed them out to the remainder of the pack. “It’s getting late, missed lunch cause of you damn kinfolk.”
He began to rush forward. “ Ill start!” old man Warner continued tossing his stone and hitting little Davey on the temple. Davey fell to the ground and released the emotions the day brought. A trickle of blood started down his face. He buried his head in his hands out of shame and sorrow. Tessie plunged down in concern for her son. The clouds started to move away as the sun began to set. No one followed after Old Man Warner or could bear to bring themselves to finish the lottery that year.
“Let’s go! It’s them or us and I reckon you young folk still like to eat?” Old Man Warner persisted
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the old man. From the excitement of capturing the town’s attention a smile skulked across his already weathered

50 year ago the Mrs. won and it tore my heart to pieces but she wasn’t whimpering and whining like all you young folks. She knew it was tradition ,You don’t break tradition and when it came down to it, My stone was the one that cracked the head. Four lotteries later I did the same to my boy. And I’ll be dammed if my family’s death was for nothing. Think of it as a, what’s a word? honor.
The crowded was now surrounding him, listening to his every word as they fondled their stones.
“So get your stones and help me continue this tradition, for my family.”
Some more people began picking up stones and filling their pockets.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about” Old Man Warner was so proud. His leathered hand gripped the side band of his hat and glided his head in ever so poise.
He looked up to the crowd again their faces, they weren’t what he had hoped.
He found himself in the middle of the overcastted
Circle. Old Man Warner gagged and almost choked on his crass smile.His eyes amplified knowing of what was