The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart Page B

was her equivalent of Jake's penetrating squint, but it made her look as if she were trying to read subtitles on an old Italian movie.
    `Platonic?' she asked.
    `Yes, it must always be Platonic.'
    'Platonic.' She meditated.
    `Yes,' I said, `I want to love you with a love that is beyond words and beyond the mere touch of bodies. With a love of the spirit.'
    'But what'll we do?'
    `We'll see each other as we have in the past, but now knowing we were meant to be lovers but that fate seventeen years ago made a mistake and gave you to Jake.'
    'But what'll we do?' She held the phone to her ear.
    `And for the sake of the children we must remain faithful to our spouses and never again give into our passion.'
    `I know, but what will we do?'
    `Nothing.'
    `Nothing?'
    'Er . . . nothing . . . unusual.'
    `Won't we see each other?'
    `Yes.'
    'At least say we love each other?'
    'Yes, I suppose so.'
    'At least reassure me that you haven't forgotten?'
    `Perhaps.'
    'Don't you like to touch me?'
    'Ah Arlene yes, yes I do but for the sake of the children `What children?'
    `My children.'
    `Oh.'
    She was sitting on the couch, one arm in her lap and the other holding the telephone to her right ear. Her low-cut blue cocktail dress which for some reason she was wearing again was making me feel less and less Platonic.
    `But...'she seemed trying to find the right words. `How . .. how would your . . . raping me hurt your children?' `Because - how would my raping you hurt my children?'
    `Yes.'
    'It would . . . were I to touch the magic of your body again I might well never be able to return to my family. I might have to drag you off with me to start a new life.'
    `Oh.'
    Wide-eyed, she stared at me.
    `You're so strange,' she added.
    `Love has made me strange.'
    `You really love me?'
    `I have loved you ... I have loved you since ... since I realized how much there was hiding beneath the surface of your outward appearance, how much depth and fullness there is to your soul.'
    `I just don't understand it.'
    She put the phone down on the arm of the couch and raised her hands again to her face, but she didn't cry.
    'Arlene, I must go now. We must never speak of our love again.'
    She looked up at me through her glasses with a new expression - one of fatigue or sadness, I couldn't tell.
    `Seventeen years.'
    I moved hesitantly away from the couch. She continued to stare at the spot I had vacated: `Seventeen years.'
    `I thank you for letting me speak to you.'
    She rose now and took off her glasses and put them next to the telephone. She came to me and put a trembling hand on the side of my arm.
    `You may stay,' she said.
    `No, I must leave.'
    `I'll never let you leave your children.'
    `I would be too strong. Nothing could stop me.'
    She hesitated, her eyes searching my face. `You're so strange.'
    'Arlene, if only...'
    `Stay.'
    'Stay?' `Please.'
    'What for?'
    She pulled my head down to hers and gave me her lips and mouth in a kiss.
    `I won't be able to control myself,' I said.
    `You must try,' she said dreamily. `I have sworn never to go to bed with you again.'
    `You what?'
    I have sworn on my husband's honor never to get into bed with you again.'
    `I'll have to rape you.'
    She looked up at me sadly. `Yes, I suppose so.'

Chapter Twelve
    During the first month the dice had rather small effect on my life. I used them to choose ways to spend my free time, and to choose alternatives when the normal `I' didn't particularly care. They decided that Lil and I would see the Edward Albee play rather than the Critic's Award play; that I read work x selected randomly from a huge collection; that I would cease writing my book and begin an article on `Why Psychoanalysis Usually Fails'; that I would buy General Envelopment Corporation rather than Wonderfilled Industries or Dynamicgo Company; that I would not go to a convention in Chicago; that I would make love to my wife in Kama-Sutra position number 23, number 52, number 8, etc.; that I see Arlene, that I don't see Arlene, etc.;