Authors: Orson Scott Card
“Because you are first,” said Douglas, “and because you have never played before, you may use the lobster dice to begin.”
The lobster dice were just like the other dice—there were about a dozen scattered around the table—except that they had a red lobster printed on the face that should have had the one-spot.
“The lobster dice have special significance,” said Douglas. “And if you should be so fortunate as to have a lobster turn up on your roll, it changes your move. For instance, if you roll the three dice and get two fives and a lobster, the total isn’t eleven, it’s ten-lobster.”
“How many do I move for the lobster?”
“One,” said Douglas.
“Per lobster,” added Tom.
“So that’s eleven,” said Rainie.
Douglas and Tom both made a show of looking stricken. “An unbeliever,” said Douglas. “I never would have thought it of you.”
Tom addressed the others. “If she can’t tell the difference between eleven and ten-lobster, then what if she rolls, like,
four-lobster-lobster?
”
They all shook their heads and made mournful noises.
“I worry about you, Ida,” said Douglas. “You seem to have an unhealthy grip on reality.”
“Nay,” said Cecil, “reality hath an unhealthy grip on
her
.”
“Maybe I’m not worthy to use the lobster dice,” said Rainie.
“Ah,” said Douglas. “That’s all right then.”
“What is?”
“As long as you think you might be unworthy, then you
are
worthy.”
“Thinking I’m unworthy makes me worthy?”
“Here are the sacred lobster dice,” said Douglas. “You found the perfect last line for the song. You served us our beans and brought us our drinks. No one is worthier than you.”
He spoke with such simplicity and sincerity that, even though she knew he was joking, she couldn’t help but be touched. “I’m honored,” she said, and meant it. She took the dice and rolled.
Two of the dice showed lobsters. The other die showed an ace. Some of the men gasped.
“One-lobster-lobster,” murmured Cecil.
“The first roll of the game.”
“Surely good karma will triumph tonight.”
“Tell me,” said Cecil, “are you perchance a visitor from another realm, temporarily dwelling among us mortals in disguise?”
“No,” she said, laughing.
“Have you not been sent by the Baby of Love,” Cecil insisted, “to bring the blessing of healing to a world of woe?”
Rainie reached out her hand toward Cecil. “Flesh and blood, see?”
He touched her hand, cradled it gently in his, as if it were a porcelain rose. “Ah,” he said, “she is real. I know it, for I have touched her.”
“She’s not a real person,” said Grandpa. “She’s a ghost. Can’t you tell? We’re being haunted here tonight. Ida Johnson is just a figment of her own imagination.”
The others chuckled, and Rainie laughed. But as she took her hand back from Cecil, she felt strangely shy. And when she looked at Grandpa, she found him gazing at her very steadily.
“I’m not a ghost,” she said softly.
“Yes she is,” said Grandpa to the others. “She can fool you boys, but not these old eyes. I know the difference.”
“One-lobster-lobster,” said Douglas. “Let’s get this game moving!”
The game got moving. It took only a few minutes for Rainie to get into the spirit of it. The game was about life and death, but what happened with the dice was almost trivial compared to what they all did to each other with the power cards. The game had hardly begun when the blond guy at the other end of the table—Jack?—played a card on her that said:
“THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER . . .”
Allows you to swap power
cards with another player
and in one moment she found herself with a handful of completely different cards. It wasn’t Jack’s turn, or hers—he just felt like playing it.
In a moment, though, she saw why. Douglas had landed on a square whose pigpath—the line connecting it to the pigpen—had only three dots on it. Jack played one of her former Release-the-Pigs cards, and they
all whooped and hollered and lined up the baby pigs at the head of the pigpath, with Momma Pig last in line.
“This is pointless,” said Douglas. “I’m still primordial ooze. I can’t regress any farther than that.”
“I want you in hell,” said Jack.
“But I won’t go to hell. I don’t have any karma at all yet.”
“You personally released the pigs on me twice last time. Tonight you’re
never
going to be reincarnated.”
“Grudge-holding is beneath you, Jack.”
Jack burst into a country-music song.
If I can’t hold me a woman
,
Then a grudge will have to do
.
The woman I’d hold against myself
,
But the grudge I’ll hold against you
.
Rainie had never heard the song before, so she figured he had made it up. The tune was actually pretty good.
The pigs were about to start charging down the pigpath when Jack played her former card adding two pigs to the pen. Now there were even more pigs on the path, and since they leapfrogged instead of taking turns, the pigs were bound to reach Douglas. Each pig that got to him would cost him two life-pennies, except for Momma, who would cost him four. Since everybody started with only ten life-pennies, he was doomed.
“I need the lobster dice,” said Douglas.
“You need an angel from heaven,” said Jack.
Tom handed Jack the two bad karma cards he got for playing evil power cards.
“Oh, these are bad,” sad Jack.
“Only what you deserve,” said Douglas.
“Well, before we sic the pigs on you, Dougie, let’s try
this
.” Whereupon Jack laid down another of Rainie’s old cards, the one that allowed him to swap karma with Douglas. Since Douglas had none and Jack had two bad karma cards, it meant that when Douglas died his karmic balance would be negative and he’d go to hell.
“You are one seriously evil dude tonight, Jack,” said Raymond. “I like your style. Let’s see what happens with this one.” He laid down an evil power card that said:
“ANGRY OINKERS”
DOUBLES THE DAMAGE OF
ALL PIGS ON A GIVEN PIG
ATTACK
“Hey, how dead can I get?” asked Douglas.
“We won’t find out on this turn,” said Grandpa. He laid down a good power card that said:
“FAIR IS FAIR”
Causes the person
who released the
pigs to take the
damage from a
pig attack (only
when pigs are
released on
someone else)
“Son of a
gun
!” shouted Jack. “You can’t do this to me!”
“Can so.”
“I’m not even on a pigpath!” It was true. Jack’s playing piece—the plastic triceratops—was on a square with no path connecting it to the pigpen.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Tom. “You’re taking the damage from the attack on Douglas, so the pigs will still follow
his
pigpath.”
“And since you just played that evil power on Douglas switching your karma, you get a new evil power card of your very own,” said Grandpa. “So if you die, you’ll go to hell.”
The pigs started down the path. As each baby pig advanced to a new dot on the path, Jack got to roll one die. If he got a one or a two, the pig was “popped” and returned to the pen. He wasn’t lucky—he only
popped two pigs, so five reached him and he was dead before Momma could even start her run down the path.
Just before the last pig reached him, though, he played the other Release-the-Pigs card that he had got from Rainie, and since this one was “for the good of the whole” he got a good karma card for it. “Ha!” he said. “It’s a ten and my bad karma card was only a four. I’ll go to heaven, and Douglas
still
has to face the pigs!”
So once again the pigs were lined up and started down the path. Rainie looked again at the cards she had gotten from Jack. One of them said:
“PERHAPS I CAN HELP”
Allows you to heal
another player of
all damage.
(Will not work after
they have been
killed)
She waited until Douglas was down to his last two life-pennies, and played the card.
“You are my hero,” he said.
“You’re just too young to die,” said Rainie.
“There’s still some more pigs,” Jack pointed out.
“Not enough to kill me,” said Douglas.
“But,” said Tom, “what if
Momma rides again
!” He slapped down an evil power card that said:
“MOMMA RIDES AGAIN”
CAUSES THE MOMMA PIG TO COME
DOWN THE PATH TWICE
.
“This has gone too far!” cried Cecil. “I say Momma is drunk as a skunk.” He laid down a good power card called
“SOUSED SOW”
that was supposed to keep Momma home.
“I hate do-gooders,” said Raymond. He laid down an evil power card that said:
“I HATE
DO-GOODERS”
Allows you to
cancel a Good
power before it
takes effect
“So Momma rides twice,” said Tom. “That’ll be eight life-pennies if she makes it both times, and that plus the two babies and you
could
die, Douglas.”
“Good to know,” said Douglas. “Is this how you talk to your patients?”
“I’m a dermatologist,” said Tom. “My patients don’t die, they just put bags over their heads.”
“Let’s make sure of this,” said Raymond, laying down another card.
“PIGS CAN FLY”
PIGS MOVE 2 SQUARES
EACH STEP INSTEAD OF 1
“I’m dead,” said Douglas. And it was true. The pigs came down the path, Momma twice, and all his life-pennies were gone.
“Dead and in hell,” said Jack cheerfully.
“Boy am I nice,” said Grandpa, laying down a card.
“Not ‘Boy Am I Nice’!” wailed Jack.
But it
was
the Boy-Am-I-Nice card. Grandpa took on himself all of the bad karma Douglas had gotten from Jack, leaving Douglas with no karma at all. “And that counts as good karma,” said Douglas, “and so I go to heaven.”
“No, no, no,” moaned Jack.
“I’m in heaven while you’re in
hell
, Jack,” said Douglas. “Which is the natural order of the universe.”
“Do people get to stay in heaven if they gloat?” asked Rainie.
“Absolutely. It’s about the only fun thing that people in heaven are allowed to do,” said Grandpa.
“And you should know, Grandpa,” said Jack.
“All my old friends have gone to heaven,” said Grandpa, “and not one of them is having any fun at all.”
“They talk to you?” asked Rainie.
“No. They send me postcards that say ‘Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here.’ They’re all gloating.”
The game went on, the power cards flying thick and fast, with everybody praying like crazy to get more power cards. When someone didn’t have enough beans to pray, somebody would invariably lend him a few. And Rainie noticed that there actually was a remarkable amount of bean-stealing when people weren’t looking. In the meantime, Douglas had eaten every single brown peanut M&M in the bowl. “It really does look more festive when you do that,” said Rainie.
“Do what?”
“Take the brown ones out. It looks so much brighter.”
“Sometimes he leaves only the red and green ones,” said Raymond. “At Christmastime, especially.”
Douglas got out of heaven after three turns there, and before long he had caught up with the others—or rather, the others had been sent back or killed or whatever so often that he was about even with them. Jack, however, was never even able to get past the slime stage and up to the level of newt. “The game knows,” said Douglas. “Slime thou art, and slime thou shalt remain.”
“Makes me want to go
wash
,” said Jack.
“That’s a question,” said Douglas. “If slime washed, what would it wash off? I mean, what seems dirty to slime?”
The game ebbed and flowed, people ganging up on each other and then, at odd moments, pitching in and helping somebody out with a good power card. Rainie began to realize that crazy as it was, this game really
was
like life. Even though people could only do to each other whatever was permitted by the power cards they randomly drew, it took on the rhythms of life. Things would be going great, and then something bad would happen and everything would look hopeless, and then you’d come back from the dead and the dice would be with you again and you’d be OK. They didn’t take it easy on Rainie, and she played with the same gusto as everyone else, but the dice were with her, so that she seemed to make up her losses quite easily, and seemed to have exactly the power card she needed time after time.