Daisy came a creaky voice. ‘It is just such coincidences that prove there is a thing called Destiny, presiding over our so-called “chance” universe. I’ll make a note of that in my
journal.’ The goose-quill scratched.
‘Don’t worry,’ Harry said in a low, confiding tone, ‘about taking Mary Junes away from me. Oh, it upset me for a while, I’ll admit, but I’m all over that, now. There’s plenty of other apples on the tree.’
‘Well now,’ Daisy chuckled, ‘let’s not keep Mr.—Potter, is It?—Mr. Potter up all night. We’re all getting an early start in the morning, for Las Vegas. So I guess I’d better explain why we kidnapped you.
‘The Professor has devised an elaborate and foolproof system for beating the wheel. We are going to—figuratively speaking—take Las Vegas by storm. This system can’t fail. By this time next week, we should have the key to the city—literally speaking.’
‘But where do I come in?’
‘Exactly !’ piped the Professor. ‘Where do you come in? It seems my system is perfect in theory—that is, the
whole
of it is perfect—but the calculations involved in placing any one bet are too complex for any of us. That is where you, our Mathematical Genius, come in.’
‘I’m flattered, of course, but—’
‘Take him away, Harry,’ Daisy said, making an imperious gesture. ‘Lock him in the bathroom for the night, and guard the door.’
‘But—’
‘Come on, you.’ Harry dragged Cal to the bathroom, flung him in, and turned the key on him.
There were no windows. Cal walked up and down, thinking, examining fixtures, waiting for the others to get to sleep. Then he got down and whispered at the keyhole.
‘Harry ! Sssst ! Why not let me out of here? Do me a favour, will you?’
Harry laughed, one hoarse bark. ‘Do
you
a favour? That’s really rich. After all you’ve done to me.’
‘Look, Harry, I’m sorry about—’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care about Mary Junes any more. Not at all. I forgot all about her. I mean, there’s plenty other cookies in the jar. But—do
you
a favour ! That’s really rich.’
Cal curled up in the tub and tried to sleep. From time to time, Harry emitted another strangled bark. ‘Boy ! That really is rich. Do
him
a favour !’
In the morning the five of them started out for Las Vegas. Cal’s blindfold was left off, and he was able to see that the motel in which he’d spent the night was right across the street from
The El Cantina Bar
.
While he nursed his hangover, the other four began a spirited conversation about the nature of the universe, as perceived through the working of coincidence.
Daisy maintained that in coincidence we see no other hand but the Deity’s. She related numerous instances of simultaneous birthdays, albinism, people’s being struck by lightning or meteors, and the odd results of Dr. Rhine’s experiments.
Jack owned she had a point. Harry agreed that coincidences did seem to happen.
Brian Gallopini replied that it would be blasphemy to blame the Deity for mine cave-ins, for midair plane crashes maiming children, for widows losing their compensation cheques.
Harry clung to the notion that accidents would happen.
Daisy pointed to the fiction of the eighteenth century. She cited coincidences in
Tom Jones
and
Humphrey Clinker
. If such were the work of authors (Fielding and Smollet), why could not coincidences in Life have an Author (God)?
‘By thunder !’ Brian swore. ‘Are you trying to tell me, woman, that you and I are naught but puppets, jerked about at the whim of some buffoon of a novelist? Pish ! You may believe as you please, but know you that I am a free agent. I command my hand to move; it moves. See?’ He demonstrated.
Daisy laughed. ‘Only because you were destined to command it to move. You were commanded by the Author of All.’
But the Professor lapsed into a moody silence and would not answer. Some of the taller buildings and larger signs of Las
journal.’ The goose-quill scratched.
‘Don’t worry,’ Harry said in a low, confiding tone, ‘about taking Mary Junes away from me. Oh, it upset me for a while, I’ll admit, but I’m all over that, now. There’s plenty of other apples on the tree.’
‘Well now,’ Daisy chuckled, ‘let’s not keep Mr.—Potter, is It?—Mr. Potter up all night. We’re all getting an early start in the morning, for Las Vegas. So I guess I’d better explain why we kidnapped you.
‘The Professor has devised an elaborate and foolproof system for beating the wheel. We are going to—figuratively speaking—take Las Vegas by storm. This system can’t fail. By this time next week, we should have the key to the city—literally speaking.’
‘But where do I come in?’
‘Exactly !’ piped the Professor. ‘Where do you come in? It seems my system is perfect in theory—that is, the
whole
of it is perfect—but the calculations involved in placing any one bet are too complex for any of us. That is where you, our Mathematical Genius, come in.’
‘I’m flattered, of course, but—’
‘Take him away, Harry,’ Daisy said, making an imperious gesture. ‘Lock him in the bathroom for the night, and guard the door.’
‘But—’
‘Come on, you.’ Harry dragged Cal to the bathroom, flung him in, and turned the key on him.
There were no windows. Cal walked up and down, thinking, examining fixtures, waiting for the others to get to sleep. Then he got down and whispered at the keyhole.
‘Harry ! Sssst ! Why not let me out of here? Do me a favour, will you?’
Harry laughed, one hoarse bark. ‘Do
you
a favour? That’s really rich. After all you’ve done to me.’
‘Look, Harry, I’m sorry about—’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care about Mary Junes any more. Not at all. I forgot all about her. I mean, there’s plenty other cookies in the jar. But—do
you
a favour ! That’s really rich.’
Cal curled up in the tub and tried to sleep. From time to time, Harry emitted another strangled bark. ‘Boy ! That really is rich. Do
him
a favour !’
In the morning the five of them started out for Las Vegas. Cal’s blindfold was left off, and he was able to see that the motel in which he’d spent the night was right across the street from
The El Cantina Bar
.
While he nursed his hangover, the other four began a spirited conversation about the nature of the universe, as perceived through the working of coincidence.
Daisy maintained that in coincidence we see no other hand but the Deity’s. She related numerous instances of simultaneous birthdays, albinism, people’s being struck by lightning or meteors, and the odd results of Dr. Rhine’s experiments.
Jack owned she had a point. Harry agreed that coincidences did seem to happen.
Brian Gallopini replied that it would be blasphemy to blame the Deity for mine cave-ins, for midair plane crashes maiming children, for widows losing their compensation cheques.
Harry clung to the notion that accidents would happen.
Daisy pointed to the fiction of the eighteenth century. She cited coincidences in
Tom Jones
and
Humphrey Clinker
. If such were the work of authors (Fielding and Smollet), why could not coincidences in Life have an Author (God)?
‘By thunder !’ Brian swore. ‘Are you trying to tell me, woman, that you and I are naught but puppets, jerked about at the whim of some buffoon of a novelist? Pish ! You may believe as you please, but know you that I am a free agent. I command my hand to move; it moves. See?’ He demonstrated.
Daisy laughed. ‘Only because you were destined to command it to move. You were commanded by the Author of All.’
But the Professor lapsed into a moody silence and would not answer. Some of the taller buildings and larger signs of Las
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