Lottery by Patricia Wood Page A

But he was called G.J. His name is only letters.
    “He’s your father, but he’s no son of mine. No son of mine!” Gram would say.
    Louise was a lawyer’s wife. That is different than a plain mother. They do not have to keep all of their children. Gram said she and Gramp needed me so Louise lent me to them. They liked me so much they kept me for good. That is cool.
    There is a picture of me as a baby crawling. It is taped to one page. Gram’s handwriting is underneath. Perry loves his Gramp and follows him around like a puppy. I laugh. I like to think of myself as a puppy. There is another one of me in our boat. I have a red hat with matching mittens. Gram’s words are above. Perry went sailing with Gramp. He’s picked it up real fast and is learning to work the tiller.
    Gram wrote all the things I could do and how old I was.
    Perry is reading words now. That teacher doesn’t know what she is talking about. He reads signs and we do the crossword together. I tell him to print the words and which square to put them in and he does a real good job.
    Doing things faster, better, and bigger is important to people .
    “It’s like a contest for moms if a baby weighs more, is taller, or walks first. A goddamn contest!” Gram said this when I had trouble reading and writing in school. My teachers would invite all the parents to meetings and Gram would come. She would collect my papers and bring them home and we would work together to make them better. Her voice would get soft and low when she told me about how mad she got during those school meetings. The teachers would call me names. School meetings are called conferences. Conferences are when the teacher tells you how bad your kid is. The teachers would all say different things.
    Maybe Downs, but he doesn’t look it.
    He is borderline. Not developing normally.
    You have to accept the fact that Perry is retarded . . . mildly retarded.
    “It’s like they’re talking about a goddamn cheese, Perry! Mild shmild my ass!” Gram said.
    They put me in Special Ed.
    “There’s nothing special about it! It’s just a bunch of names! Perry, you’re just slow and that’s not a bad thing. You’ll still end up at the same place. People like names. It makes them feel superior,” Gram said.
    Superior is when somebody thinks they are better than you, only they are not.
    Gram always laughed when she read all the stuff about schools and teaching in the news, especially when I got older.
    “Education shmeducation. Those politicians don’t know a goddamned thing! It’s them that needs educating.” And “Look, Perry, we could sue the sonsabitches if you were going to school now!” Then she would do her witch-cackle laugh. She made sure I knew all the new names. Each year they were different.
    “Hey, Perry, you would be cognitively challenged now! Just like your brothers, only they’re morally challenged!” She pointed to the articles in magazines or newspapers.
    Challenged. I liked that. We are all challenged. Challenged means you have obstacles to overcome. Gram read up on something called learning disabilities.
    “Perry, I bet you had some of those and we never even knew it.”
    I told her I did not think so. I was just slow. That was hard enough. I did not want her to give me anything else.
    I keep looking through my book.
    SCHOOL. MY FIRST memories of school. I was six years old. I know this because Gram wrote pages about it in my book. This is one of my first memories, but it was not a good one. I cried. You cannot go into school if you do not poop and pee in the toilet. I was scared. The teacher did not tell me where the potty room was and my poop went into my pants. I laughed because I was scared. It was all warm and runny. I laugh when I am scared or nervous. I do not know why it just comes out. Gram said I get anxious easily. Anxious is when you are not sure what other people will do. My teacher, Miss Kathy, called Gram on the phone. I went home with Gram and she