Christmas in 1969 that I got a phone call from Arlene announcing that she and Jake were rushing off to the hospital to have our dicebaby. They knew where I could be reached, since I'd stopped off two days before to give them each a Christmas present: Arlene a set of the Encyclopedia Brittanica and Jake a rakish bathing suit (Not my will, O Die, but Thy will be done).
When I arrived, Arlene was still in labor, and her private room was something of a messy jumble from two huge opened suitcases, filled, as far as I could see, entirely with baby clothes. I noticed at least thirty diapers with two green dice branded on each, and many of the pajamas, shirts, pants and tiny baby socks seemed to be similarly monogrammed. I found this to be in bad taste and told Arlene so while she was in the middle of a labor pain, but when she stopped groaning (she claimed it was mostly pleasurable), she assured me the Die had picked a one-in-three shot and ordered the monograms.
The three of us chatted about our hopes for the baby, with Arlene doing most of the talking. She told us that she had given 215 chances in 216 that she practice natural childbirth and breast-feed the child and that much to her delight the Die had chosen that she should do both. But most of her talk was about when the child should be potty trained and when it should be dicetrained.
`We've got to start early,' Arlene kept saying. `I don't want our baby corrupted by society the way I was for thirty-five
years.'
'Still, Arlene,' I said, `for the first two or three years I think the child can develop randomly without using the dice.'
`No, Luke, it wouldn't be fair to him,' she replied: `It would be like keeping candy away from him.'
`But a child tends to express all his minority impulses - at least until he gets to school. They may batten down the
hatches there.'
`Perhaps, Lukie,' she said, `but he'll see me casting dice to see which breast he gets or whether we go for a walk or
whether he naps, and he'll feel left out. What I'd like to do .is …'
But she went into such a long labor pain and it came so soon after the previous one that Jake buzzed for the nurse and
they wheeled her off to the delivery room. Jake and I trailed after her down the hall.
`I don't know, Luke,' Jake said after a while, squinting up at hopefully. `I think this dice business may be getting out of
hand.'
`I think so too,' I said.
`The dice may be good for us uptight adults, but I'm not sure about two-year-olds.'
`I agree.'
`She could confuse the poor kid before he developed any patterns to break.'
`Right.'
`It's possible the kid might grow up to be something of a weirdie.'
`True. Or worse yet, he might end up rebelling against diceliving and opt for permanent conformity to the dominant
social norm.'
`Hey, that's a possibility. You think he might?'
`Sure,' I said. `Boys always rebel against their mothers.'
Jake paused in his pacing and I stopped beside him and looked down; he was staring at the floor.
`I suppose a little dice-throwing won't hurt him,' he said slowly.
`And in any case, who cares?'
Jake looked sharply up at me.
`Aren't you concerned about your baby?' he asked.
`Now, remember. Jake, it's our baby, not mine. Just because the dice told Arlene to tell you that I'm the father doesn't
mean necessarily that I am.'
`Hey, that's right.'
`You may actually be the father but the dice told Arlene to lie.'
`That's a good point, Luke.'
`Or she may have been sleeping with dozens of guys that month and not know who the actual father is.' He looked
down at the floor again.
`Thanks for the reassurance,' he said.
`So let's just call it our baby.'
`Let's just call it hers.'
Chapter Seventy
Dear Dr. Rhinehart I have been a fan of yours ever since I read that interview in Playboy. I-have been trying to
practice the dicelife now for almost a year but have run into several problems which I hoped you might be able to help me with. First, I was wondering if it were really necessary or important to follow the Die no matter what it says. I mean sometimes it vetoes something I really want to do or chooses the most absurd of the options I've created for it. I've found that disobeying the Die in such cases makes me feel real good, as if I were getting something for free. I find the Die most helpful in doing the things I want to do, mostly making girls. It's a big help there, since I never feel guilty when I try something that doesn't work since the die told me to do it. And I don't feel guilty when it does work since if the girl gets knocked up, it was the Die that did it. But why do you keep saying one should always follow the Die? And why bother to expand the areas it makes decisions in? I've got a good thing going and find a lot of your stuff distracts me from my end if you know what I mean.
Also I must warn you that when my girl took up using the dice and we tried some of those dice sex exercises some real problems developed. The sex exercises were fine, but my girl keeps telling me the Die won't let her see me anymore for a while. Sometimes she makes a date and then breaks it, blaming the Die. Aren't there some sort of rules I can impose on her? Do you have a code of dice ethics for girls I could show her? Also another girl I introduced to the dicelife began insisting that I ought to include as an option that I marry her. I only give it one chance in thirty-six, but she insists I cast the dice about it every time I go out with her. What is the probability of my losing if I date her ten more times? Twenty? Please include a table or graph if possible.
You've got some good ideas, but I hope you do more thinking about how special rules might be developed for girl
dicepeople. I'm getting worried.
Sincerely, George Doog
Chapter Seventy-one
`It's a girl,' Jake said, smiling dazedly.