`Interesting point,' I said.
Lil's head jerked back at my reply and her eyes widened slowly until, suddenly, she threw herself on me with a convulsive shriek, pulling my hair and then beating me with her fists. I hunched over to protect myself. but I felt so hollow inside that Lil's blows were like a gentle rain falling on an empty barrel. It occurred to me that it was long past time to consult the Die again. I wasn't interested. I didn't feel interested in anything. The blows stopped and Lil, crying loudly, ran toward the door. Arlene was standing there, looking terrified, and caught Lil in her arms. They disappeared, and I was alone.
Chapter Forty-one
As I sit here writing of that distant night, the tragedies and comedies bloom like flowers around me still, and I continue on from day to day or year to year to play a role, and certainly, sooner or later, I'll abandon that of dice man too. A role, a role. Star billing one day, walk-on the next. Vaudeville standup comic Shakespearian-fool. Alceste in the morning, Gary Cooper and a hippie during the day, Jesus at night. I no longer remember precisely when I stopped acting: when the fallen die began to click to life roles where there was no residual me fighting them and no dice man me feeling proud, only lives being lived. I do remember that alone in that room that night after Lil left I felt a full joyous uninhibited grief. I was in pain, I suffered, I was there.
And you, Friend, sprawled on your bed or sitting in your chair, you giggle perhaps as I slobber as Caliban, smile at my sufferings as an honest man, or sigh when I ponderously play the fool, philosophizing my madness, lecturing you on the metaphor of life as play. But I am the honest man - with all his senseless suffering for those who will feel; I am the fool. I've been Raskolnikov climbing the stairs, Julien Sorel hearing the clock strike ten, Molly Bloom writhing beneath the rhythmic push of Blazes Boylan's prick. Agonies are one of my changes of garments - fortunately not worn as often as my motley - of the fool.
And you, Reader, good friend and fellow fool my reader, you, yes you, my sweet cipher, are the Dice Man. Having read this far, you are doomed to carry with you burned forever in your soul the self I've here portrayed: the Dice Man. You are multiple and one of you is me. I have created in you a flea which will forever make you itch. Ah, Reader, you never should have let me be born. Other selves bite now and then no doubt. But the Dice Man flea demands to be scratched at every moment: he is, insatiable. You will never know an itchless moment again - unless, of course, you become the flea.
Chapter Forty-two
On the edge of the bed, alone, the party outside seeming to settle into precisely the businesslike buzz it manifested before, Luke Rhinehart sat hunched over, numbed. There was no retreat He was the Dice Man or he was no one. His body knew, dough he could not yet be aware consciously, that Luke Rhinehart was now an impossible existence. Numbed, he disturbed the Die by not consulting the watch for almost ten minutes. Then, having no place else to go, no one else to be, he took out the watch with the die and looked.
Slowly he straightened himself up and, standing, bowed his head in a brief prayer. Then he smoothed down his clothing and his hair and moved toward the party. He wanted first see his wife to abase himself before her. He walked down the hall to the living room and from the doorway squinted through the random clusters of faces, looking for her. Those talking and drinking paid him no special attention, but Mrs. Ecstein came up behind him and said that his wife was in Dr. Mann's office: He followed her down the hall and over the broken glass to the office. He found Dr. Mann and Dr. Ecstein standing awkwardly on either side of his wife, who sat, childlike, on the edge of Dr. Mann's consulting couch.
The sight of her, hunched over and small, her face pale but streaked with smeared eye shadow, her hair in disarray, an ugly man's sweater draped clumsily over her shoulders, knocked Dr. Rhinehart without conscious intention to his with his chest and head too lowering forward until he groveled at his wife's feet.
The room was silent that they could all hear quite distinctly from the centre of the house the ratatattat of Dr. Krum's laughter: `Forgive me, Lil, I am mad,' Dr. Rhinehart said.
Ne one spoke. Rhinehart raised his head and chest from the floor to look at his wife and he said: `For what I have done there is no forgiveness in this world; but I am repentant. I . . . I have been purified … by the hell that I am causing. I..' His eyes suddenly brightened with eagerness `I feel only love for you and for all here. The world can be a blessed place if we but love one another.'
'Luke, baby, what are you . . .?' Dr. Ecstein said, and he took a step forward as if to raise Dr. Rhinehart up but stopped.
`Beautiful, beautiful Jake, I'm talking about love.'
Dr. Rhinehart shook his head slowly as if confused, and a childlike smile appeared on his face. `I've been all mixed up,
all wrong; love, loving, loveliness is all there is: He turned and stretched out his arms to his wife. 'Lil, my darling, you
must realize that Heaven is here, is now, with me.'
His wife returned his gaze for a moment and then slowly raised her eyes to Dr. Mann beside her. A look of immense
relief began to appear on her face.
`He is insane, isn't he?' she asked.
'I don't know,' Dr. Mann said. `Now, of course, but he keeps changing so. It may be only temporary.'
'You fools, we've all been insane,' Dr. Rhinehart said. `I but look at each of you and love. God is shining forth from
each of you like fluorescent lights. Open your eyes and see: He was erect now on his knees, his fists clenched and his
face strangely exalted.
`Better give him a shot of sodium amaytol, Tim,' Dr. Ecstein said to Dr. Mann in a whisper.
`I've only got pills here in the house,' Dr. Mann whispered back.
`Careless,' Dr. Ecstein said.
`But why why why,' Dr. Rhinehart began forcefully, `do you want to quiet God? I am among you spraying love and
you do not hear, do not see, do not let it refresh you.'
He arose. `I must beg forgiveness of that poor innocent girl and show her my new love.'
And he abruptly strode from the room.
Down the hall and over the broken glass again and into the living room. Miss Welish was with Dr. Boyd beside the
bookcase in one corner. When he went to them, Dr. Boyd came protectively between Dr. Rhinehart and the girl.
`What now, Luke?' he said.
`I am deeply sorry for the insane attack I made on you, Miss Welish. I sincerely regret it. Only now do I see the true
meaning of love.'
Miss Welish, round-eyed, peeked around her escort's shoulder.
`Oh come off it, Luke,' Dr. Boyd said.
'You are beautiful; you are both beautiful, and I deeply regret having marred this wonderful evening.'
'I hope I didn't hurt you,' Miss Welish said.
'My pain was the initial source of my seeing the light. I can't thank you enough.'
'Any time,' Dr. Boyd said. `Come on, Joya, let's leave.'
`But I have to. . ' The voice of Miss Welish was lost behind the retreating figure of Dr. Boyd.
`You are better, true?' Dr. Krum said suddenly from below and beside Dr. Rhinehart as the two others moved away.
The min, elderly former Big Deal was with him, and so was a fiftyish Important Person puffing on a pipe. As they
began talking, Dr. Weinburger, president of PANY, the chubby middle-aged woman joined them.
`I am whole at last,' Dr. Rhinehart replied.
'What was this about the dice man, hey? Vas interesting.'
`The Dice Man is a deeply sick concept, totally lacking in love.'