Feed The Baby Of Love Read online

The game was pretty complicated. They used plastic children's toys -- little robots or dinosaurs -- as their playing pieces. The idea of the game was to roll three dice and get around the board. Each time they passed Start they were reborn as the next higher life-form, from slime to newt to emu to human; the winner was the first human to reach Start and therefore become supreme god.

  "Then the supreme god turns over his karma cards. If he's got more good than bad karma, then whoever has the most good karma comes in second. But if the supreme god has more bad karma than good, then whoever has the most bad karma comes in second," said Douglas.

  "So bad karma can be good?" asked Rainie.

  "Never," said Tom. "What kind of person are you? No, if the supreme god turns out to have bad karma, it's a terrible disaster for the known universe. We all sing a very sad song and cry on the way home."

  "The last time bad karma triumphed, Meryl Streep and Roseanne Barr released that movie She-Devil," said Douglas.

  "So you see, the consequences can be dire," said Tom.

  "She didn't even get to do an accent," said Cecil, his tone mournful and hushed.

  "And ... and Ed Begley Junior had to play Roseanne Barr's husband," said Raymond.

  "Only John Goodman is man enough to do that and live," said Cecil.

  "So you see," said Tom, "our game isn't just a game. It has consequences in the real world."

  Douglas continued with the rules. Every time you landed on a teardrop or a heart, you had a chance to pray to either the Baby of Sorrows or the Baby of Love, depending. In order to pray, you had to make an offering of as many beans as the number shown on the square. "So beans are like money," said Rainie.

  "Ugly money," said Raymond.

  "Nasty money," said Tom.

  "Filthy lucre," said Grandpa.

  "We hate beans," said Cecil. "Nobody wants beans. Only greedy, nasty, selfish people try to get a lot of beans."

  "Of course, you have no chance of winning unless you have a lot of beans," said Douglas. "But if it ever looks like you are too interested in getting beans, then we hold a bean council and punish you."

  "I never did like beans," said Rainie.

  "Good thing," said Cecil. "But watch out, because Tom is a miserable bean thief and he'll steal your beans when you're not looking."

  "If I actually cared for beans," said Tom, "I'd be an excellent bean thief."

  "If your prayer is granted," Douglas said, going on with the rules, "then you get a power card. There are evil powers and good powers, depending on which baby you pray to. When you use an evil power you get a bad karma card, and when you use a good power you get a good karma card. Good power cards are always played on other people -- they never benefit the person who plays them. Evil power cards are always vicious and selfish and vindictive."

  "That's not in the rules," said Cecil.

  "But it's the truth," said Douglas. "Good people never use evil power cards."

  "Dougie's just sore because of the time we ganged up on him and killed him every time he stuck his nose out of Hell," explained Tom.

  "I tried to reason with them."

  "He whined all night. It only goaded us to new depths of cruelty."

  "They had no pity."

  "We were nature red in tooth and claw," said Tom. "You were unfit to survive."

  They went on with the rules but at the end Rainie could hardly remember half of them. "You just tell me what to do and I'll get the hang of it."

  She started the game with five power cards. All of them were hand-written, the good powers in red ink, the evil powers in black. She had three evil cards and two good ones. One of the good ones said:

  "BUTT-INSKI"

  Allows you to

  cause 2 other

  players to swap

  all power cards.

  Two of the evil power cards said:

  "UP THE PIGGAGE"

  ADD 2 PIGS TO THE PEN.

  and

  "YOUR KARMA IS MY KARMA" allows you to swap karma cards with another player

  The last two cards, one good, one evil, made Rainie laugh out loud. The evil one said:

  RELEASE

  THE

  PIGS!!

  The good one, on the other hand, said:

  RELEASE

  THE

  PIGS!!

  For the good of the

  whole.

  "What's funny?" asked Tom.

  "Is there any difference between releasing the pigs on somebody from a good power card as opposed to an evil power card?" she asked.

  "All the difference in the world!" cried Raymond.

  "When you release the pigs for the good of the whole," said Cecil, "it's a noble act, a kind and generous sacrifice for the benefit of the entire community, without a single thought of personal benefit."

  "Whereas," said Tom, "releasing the pigs from an evil power card is the act of a soulless, cruel, despicable human being."

  "But I mean, is the actual pig attack any different?"

  "Not a whit," said Douglas.

  "Absolutely identical," said Tom.

  "I'm betting that Ida has her a couple of Release-the-Pigs cards," said Raymond.

  "How many beans are you betting?" asked Tom.

  "Five beans says she does."

  "Oh, yeah?" said Tom. "Well, ten beans says she does."

  "That's what I said," said Raymond.

  "No, you said five beans," said Tom.

  "Roll the dice, Ida," said Grandpa, "or we'll never get started."

  "The fate of the world hangs in the balance," said the quiet guy at the other end of the table -- Rainie couldn't remember his name. He looked very sad, even when he laughed.

  "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 head 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.

&
nbsp; "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 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 e
verybody 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.

  Then Rainie prayed successfully to the Baby of Sorrow and the evil card she drew was an event, not a power.

  "TAKE A BREAK" everyone relax, eat some food (at host's expense) call your spouses or whatever. After all, what's life for?

  "About time!" said Tom. "I'm hungry."

  "You've had your hands in the potato chips all night," said Douglas.

  "That just means my hands are greasy."

  "Nobody can eat just one," added Raymond.

  They were already up from the table and moving toward the kitchen. "Should I draw another power card to replace this?" asked Rainie.