by David Bolton
***
Walking slowly down the main path in the middle of Koalaville, Judge Grandaddy spotted his friend Sticky crossing the trail ahead of him.
“Sticky! Any luck with the numbers?”
“Oh, hi, Grandaddy. Well, I have quite a list here already,” Sticky said as he reached into the side pocket of his blue overalls and pulled out a piece of carefully folded white paper. “The only thing is, not many koalas came up with the same numbers, so it doesn’t seem as if there is any general consensus about which ones might win.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” the Judge replied, sounding somewhat frustrated. “I’ve been having the same problem. Every koala gives me a number, or even several, but only a few of them are repeated by other koalas, and so few that it looks like it’s coincidence.”
“You would think that we would be able to ‘feel’ the right numbers, wouldn’t you?” Sticky conjectured. “After all, winning this game would be a fine thing for our grove, so wouldn’t you think that we would be able to sense which numbers will be lucky? After all, there are only forty-nine of them in all.”
“True, but Mr. Johnson told me that considering the fact that we must choose six numbers out of those forty-nine, there are almost fourteen million combinations in all.”
“My, that does sound like a lot, doesn’t it? But no matter; that’s what luck is all about, and I just have the feeling that it is coming our way.”
“Oh, you are optimistic today!” Grandaddy laughed. “But then, maybe optimism is what we need. The truth is, it doesn’t matter much to me. After all, what do we need so much human money for? We already have everything we need!”
“Maybe so. But I just have this feeling…” Sticky repeated.
“Well, it’ll be fun one way or the other. Gives me the chance to strike up some conversation with a lot of koalas I haven’t spoken with in months. As a matter of fact, there’s another one. Sighbye, I believe his name his. Excuse me, Sticky. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye Grandaddy. Stop by for some tea later in the afternoon, and we’ll compare results.”
Sticky watched Grandaddy walk away, and then turned to his left, strolling over to the edge of the grove. Stopping at the westernmost tree, he looked over the field towards Eucalyptus Grove, a few hundred yards away. Perhaps Grandaddy didn’t know what they would do with the money, assuming that they did indeed win – but Sticky certainly did.
Ever since he was a koala child, Sticky liked to come over to the western edge and rest his gaze on the lush, dark green splendour of Eucalyptus Grove. Somehow, the green there was deeper, more genuine, reassuringly promising. Whenever he had the chance to eat some leaves from that grove, he could truly taste the difference. What a waste! The grove of their dreams, yet it was off limits for koala habitation.
If they could only win that money, then Sticky would somehow contact that human who owns it, pay him whatever he asks, and Eucalyptus Grove would be theirs. All the koalas of Koalaville would move over there, establish their new homes in those lovely trees, feast on the most delicious leaves in Southern Koalaland, and only have to lift their arms and pick them in order to do so. Yes, that would be grand. And though everybody said it was highly unlikely that they would ever win, Sticky, for some inexplicable reason, had an inkling that it just might happen. After all, only six numbers separated them from the home of their dreams.
The only problem was, how could they come up with the numbers they needed? Though Sticky was no mathematician, even he could see that one in fourteen millions were not good odds.
