A few minutes after Kim had left I wandered out of the classroom into the bright sunshine of Lukedom, Kathy making no effort to stop me. I was headed down the street towards where I knew Way lived when Rick, dressed all in black leather, including a black leather riding cap and dark sunglasses, came up to me.
‘I didn’t know your father was in town,’ he said. ‘I’d really like to meet him.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, stopping.
‘Some guy in a business suit said he’d heard the great man himself is here today,’ said Rick. ‘He wanted to meet him. Asked me where he was.’
‘It’s all just more bullshit,’ I said, starting to walk further along the sidewalk towards Way’s.
‘Yeah, maybe, so my dice told me to tell him I’d last seen Luke in the Do Dice Inn hanging out with you. But then another well-dressed guy over at the pool hall asked me the same thing, said he knows Luke is here. Both the guys looked to me like narcs. Is your big dicedaddy really here?’
Looking at him, I wondered if Rick were playing another random role. There was no sense in asking him, of course, since whatever Rick said would be unreliable. The FBI stepping up their looking for my father?
‘Yeah,’ I said to Rick. ‘My dad’s here. But he’s trying to
‘Hey, man, sure! That’s great! Where’s he at?’
‘Can’t tell you, pal,’ I said, punching him playfully on the chest. ‘It’s a kind of test. My father wants to see who recognizes him first.’
‘Excellent!’
As Rick turned and rushed off in the opposite direction, I continued on until I’d come to the small recently-built house of Michael Way. It was at the end of a street of the usual old renovated miners’ houses – two-storey clapboard affairs with all the charm of shoeboxes. Way’s house was a modern one-storey ranch house with a lot of glass.
There was no sign of life. No one there? I suddenly realized I didn’t really want to find out. After a few seconds I turned around to walk back towards the centre of town. It was time to talk to Jake about the airfield and doors in the mountain.
When I located him in a large meeting room of the church, Master Ecstein was busy teaching three youngsters dice proverbs. The kids looked barely eligible for kindergarten.
‘You’ve been playing games with me,’ I said, ignoring the fact that I was interrupting.
‘You bet!’ said Jake. ‘What does Luke have to say about playing games, boys?’ he asked his three charges, who looked at him with adoring eagerness.
‘We’re all playing games,’ answered the oldest boy brightly. ‘But the wise man … learns to make his own rules.’
‘You know where my father is,’ I insisted.
‘I do?’
‘He’s here. In Lukedom. Now.’
‘He is?’
I couldn’t be sure from Jake’s responses whether he was lying or not.
‘Say,’ said Jake, shooing the boys off to another corner of the room. That lovely woman you brought with you phoned once last night and three times today.’
‘Honoria?’ I asked, momentarily knocked off track.
That’s her name,’ said Jake. ‘Great gal. Little highstrung maybe.’
‘Did she say what she wanted?’
‘Said to tell you – and this is the exact quote: “All forgiven. I want to have our baby.” Jake beamed at me. ‘Congratulations.’
Jesus. What next? Jake’s round grinning face stared up at me like some troll.
‘The FBI is here in Lukedom,’ I said to wipe the smile off the troll’s face. They’re about to arrest my father.’
‘Hey. how about that!?’ said Jake. ‘Exciting times.’
‘You don’t believe me?’
‘’Course I do,’ said Jake, taking me by the elbow and steering me out of the meeting room and into the hallway, glancing back at the boys as he did so.
‘Aren’t you going to try to protect him?’
‘I’ll certainly think about it.’
‘And you might mention to him that I’m trying to see him.’
‘If I see him,’ said Jake, as we strolled down the hall.
‘And do you think you’ll see him?’ I asked sarcastically.
‘I doubt it,’ said Jake.
‘Damn it! I’ve been here almost a week!’ I said, pulling myself out of Jake’s grasp and halting. ‘I’ve worked with diceguides and played some of your damn games. Now the FBI is here and you still haven’t told me anything!’
‘Four of them, right? And one has been here as long as you have.’
‘You knew?’
‘Oh, well,’ said Jake, looking modest, and moving again down the hall. ‘Not everything that happens here escapes our attention.’
‘Does all this have something to do with the secret airfield and secret underground building up on the mountain?’
Jake came to a halt again, his cheerful, unperturbed manner at last broken. He had arrived at his office, which was open.’
‘Airfield?’ he said with a frown. ‘Underground building?’
That’s right,’ I said, triumphant. ‘A secret door in the wall of that old mine entrance on this side of the mountain, and undoubtedly another secret door on the other side where the airstrip is. And my father is there!’
‘Wow. That’s terrific! When did you find this out?’
‘Yesterday afternoon,’ I said.
‘Actually.’ said Jake, now moving briskly into his office, ‘it was the early evening, wasn’t it?’
Losing my smile I followed him slowly into the office.
‘You acknowledge, then, that there’s a secret building up there?’ I pressed.
Jake sat down at his desk and pulled out a large wooden drawer on the right-hand side. He then swung around in his swivel chair and looked up at me with more seriousness than I’d ever seen in him.
‘Sit down. Son,’ said Jake. ‘It’s time we had a talk.’
‘You’re damn right.’ I pulled a chair briskly over and sat opposite Jake.
Jake nodded, then turned back and pressed a button under the overhang of the desktop. He then reached into the large open drawer and seemed to slide something forward from the rear. He groped around for a while and then pulled out a small mahogany box. Swinging back to face me, he held the wooden box on his lap.
‘You’ve done a fine job,’ said Jake.
‘Where’s my father?’
‘You’re absolutely right about there being a building in that mountain,’ said Jake, ‘though we’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself.’
‘That depends. Are you going to tell me where my father is?’
Jake looked at me for a long moment and then sighed. He looked down at the mahogany box, jiggled it slightly there in his lap and sighed again.
Yes,’ he said. ‘I am.’
‘Well?’
Jake cleared his throat, looked again down at the box and then back at me.
‘I know that. But where?’
‘I mean here,’ said Jake and he nodded at the box in his lap.
I looked at the box, then back at Jake. ‘What are you talking about?’
Jake cleared his throat again, then slowly undid the tiny gold latch on the lid and opened the box. He then pulled his chair towards me and placed the open box in my lap.
Inside were two small worn green plastic dice and a larger bronze die of about two inches in each dimension. There was also an envelope.
‘What’s this, some sort of corny symbolism?’ I said. ‘My father exists in dice?’
‘Actually,’ said Jake. ‘Your father is sealed up in that bronze die. His ashes, that is. Your father is dead.’
On the surface I felt only the tiniest of tremors reverberating at some level so deep I was only vaguely aware of it.
‘Really,’ I said coldly. ‘How convenient.’
‘Yes. It is convenient in some ways.’
‘Why hasn’t the waiting world been told?’ I asked
‘Oh, rumours of Luke’s death abound. He’s died at least a dozen times since he disappeared. Apparently one of the deaths must have taken.’
‘You don’t seem very disturbed by it.’
‘No, no. not at all. Anyone who uses the dice is, as you know, quite a pain in the ass.’
‘So why didn’t you tell me this when I first arrived?’
‘Ah, well,’ said Jake, leaning back in his swivel chair and grinning. ‘Luke always liked complications. He didn’t want to keep things simple. This box and its contents are for you.’
Still not knowing what to believe, I looked down at the box: two plastic dice, the bronze die supposedly with Luke’s ashes, and the envelope. I looked back at Jake.
‘My father left these for me?’
‘That’s right.’
‘The bastard!’
‘He certainty didn’t treat you right,’ said Jake amiably, ‘that’s for sure. But still, you ought to open the envelope.’
I took the envelope out of the box. It was unsealed. I slid my finger into it and pulled out the contents: a single handwritten page with Luke’s signature at the end. I looked up at Jake.
‘Read it,’ said Jake.
‘You know its contents?’
‘He consulted me about it,’ said Jake. ‘Yes, I’ve read it.’
I looked down and read the note:
Dear Larry,
I don’t expect you to forgive me for leaving you and Lil and Evie so totally. Nevertheless, I’ve never stopped thinking of you and over the years have followed your life closely.
Now that I’m going, I want to leave you a final message, one I hope Jake will get to you when you’re ready to receive it. Since messages should never be sent except when the receiver is ready, I may be gone a day, year, or decade when Jake finally decides the time is ripe.
The message is simple: carry on my work.
When Jake gives you this, you probably won’t be willing to do that. I understand. By abandoning you I closed you up to the possibilities of living that I offer, and it will take either age or misery to reopen you. But at least you’re ready for the seed.
Someday carry on my work – for your own sake if not the world’s. Jake – or his successor – will tell you more when you’re ready.
Luke
I think I remained with my head down and eyes on the page long after I’d finished reading. A part of me felt that this was all a hoax, that this was just another test that my father and Jake had prepared for me as part of some initiation into God knew what. But I was also feeling a weight in the tummy that I supposed might have something to do with grief. I became aware I was violently jiggling my right foot. I finally looked up at Jake.
‘Such a heartfelt apology,’ I said. ‘Such an outpouring of parental love.’
Jake shrugged.
‘You have to read between the lines,’ he said.
‘That’s for sure. There’s certainly nothing in the lines.’
‘Your father never was big on saying the obvious,’ said Jake.
‘Is that supposed to mean it’s obvious that he loved me?’ I said bitterly.
‘Maybe,’ said Jake. ‘Not many daddies think enough of their kids to want to leave their kingdom to them.’
‘What’s he mean he’s been following my life?’ I asked, stuffing the letter back into the envelope.
‘Can’t say,’ said Jake. ‘I guess it means what it says.’
‘And if he knew I’d reject his offer even after you think I’m ready, then why make the offer?’
‘Well, if I’d sent this to you three months ago, you’d have sneered and been happy your daddy was safely out of the way of your social life,’ said Jake. ‘Now, because of the things you’ve done and had happen to you lately, you may sneer, but your curiosity has been whetted. You now know your daddy hasn’t just been playing games for twenty years – or rather the games he’s been playing may be a little bigger than you thought.’
Still holding the box, its lid now closed, I stood up.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry … if my father is dead … but all the rest is … meaningless.’
‘Yeah. I suppose so.’
‘They’ve caught Luke!’ said Rick, bursting into the room, out of breath. ‘They’ve got him!’
I looked from Rick back down to Jake, who looked both surprised and worried.
‘When? Where?’ barked Jake.
‘Just now,’ said Rick, still gasping for breath. Two of those narcs were taking him to the Hazard Inn.’
I looked once more at a frowning Jake and then, tucking the wooden box under my arm, stepped around Rick and began running down the hall.