Luke Rheinhart - The Diceman

For several moments the five members of the committee sat in silence, broken only by the harsh, uneven 'breathing of the sleeping Dr. Moon. Doctors Weinburger, Cobblestone and Mann, were all staring at the door which had closed behind Dr. Rhinehart. Dr. Peerman broke the silence `I believe we should conclude our business: 'Ah. Ah. Ah, yes,' said Dr. Weinburger. `The vote. We must have the vote.'

But he remained staring at the door. Thank God, he's insane,' he added.

`The vote,' repeated Dr. Peerman in his shrill voice.

`Yes, of course. We are now voting on Dr. Peerman's motion that our committee expel Dr. Rhinehart for the reasons

listed and request that the AMA consider taking action against him as well. Dr. Peerman?'

`I cast my vote in favor of my motion,' he said solemnly to the chairman.

`Dr. Cobblestone?'

The old doctor was fingering nervously the cane held erect between his legs and staring blankly at the empty chair of

Dr. Rhinehart.

`I vote aye,' he said neutrally.

`Two votes to condemn,' announced Dr. Weinburger. `Dr. Mann?'

Dr. Mann shrugged his right shoulder violently and jarred Dr. Moon into a more or less vertical position, Moon's eyes

flaming open briefly and erratically.

`I still think we ought to have asked Dr. Rhinehart quietly to resign,' said Dr. Mann. `I make a pro forma vote of no.'

`I understand, Tim,' said Dr. Weinburger sympathetically. `And you, Dr. Moon?'

Dr. Moon's body was balanced erect, and his eyelids slowly rose, revealing the red coals of his dying eyes. His face

looked as if it had suffered all the miseries of every human that had ever lived.

`Dr. Moon; do you vote yes to the motion to expel this man we've been listening to, or do you vote no in order to

permit him to continue?'

Dr. Moon's fierce red eyes seemed the only things alive in his wrinkled, ravaged face, but they were staring at nothing,

or at the past or at everything. His mouth was open; he drooled.

`Dr. Moon?' repeated Dr. Weinburger a third time.

Slowly, so slowly that it must have taken thirty or forty seconds for him to complete the motion, Dr. Moon raised his

two arms up over his head, feebly closed the palms of his hands into a half-fist, and then, mouth still open, dropped

them with a crash onto the table in front of him.

'NO!' he thundered.

There was a shocked silence, broken only by the explosive gasps of Dr. Moon's now totally sporadic breathing.

`Would you care to explain your vote?'

Dr. Weinburger asked gently after a while.

Dr. Moon's body was beginning to slump and slide toward Dr. Mann's shoulder again and his fierce, all-seeing eyes

were now only half open.

`My vote's obvious,' he said weakly. `Get on with it'

Dr Weinburger stood up with a dignified smile on his face.

`The vote on the motion to expel Dr. Rhinehart being tied at two to two, the chairman is obliged to cast his vote to

break the tie.'

He paused briefly and poked formally at the crumpled papers in front of him. `I vote yes. Consequently, by a vote of

three to two, Dr. Rhinehart is expelled from PANY. A letter will be sent to -'

`Point of order,' came Dr. Moon's weak voice, his eyes now open just a slit, as if permitting people only the tiniest of

glances into his red inferno.

`Beg pardon?' said the surprised chairman.

"Cording to our, bylaws . . . man presenting charges 'gainst colleague can't . . . vote . .. on motion to accept . . .

charges.'

`I'm afraid I don't understan-' `Created bylaw m'self in thirty-one,' continued Dr. Moon with a gasp. He seemed to be

trying to push himself away from Dr. Mann's shoulder but lacked the strength. `Peerman brought charges. Peerman

can't vote.'

No one spoke. There was only the hoarse explosive rattle of Dr. Moon's occasional breath.

Dr. Mann finally said in a very quiet voice `1n that case the vote is two to two.'

'Vote's two to one for acquittal,' said Dr. Moon and, after a desperate, hollow, rattling intake of air, he finished

`Chairman of committee can't vote except to break ties.'

`Dr. Moon, sir,' said Dr. Weinburger weakly, bracing himself against the table to keep himself from fainting: `Could

you please consider changing your vote or at least explaining it?'

The red coals of Dr. Moon's dying eyes blazed forth one last time from the face which looked as if it had suffered all

the miseries of every human that had ever lived.

`M'vote's obvious,' he said.

Dr. Weinburger began re-crumpling the papers which he had finished neatening in front of him.

`Dr. Moon, sir,' he said again weakly. 'Would you consider changing your vote in order to … simplify … to simplify …

Dr. Moon! Dr. Moon!' But the silence in the room was total.

Was total.

Chapter Fifty

Dr. Moon's death in the line of duty was greeted with mixed reviews in the psychiatric world of New York as was my

momentary escape from the fate I so obviously deserved. I quietly resigned from PANY, but Dr. Weinburger wrote a personal letter to the president of the AMA; my removal from the elite sections of civilization continued its slow, rational, bureaucratic course.

They probably would have kept me locked up in Kolb Clinic forever, but Jake Ecstein was my psychiatrist and unlike most other ambitious, successful doctors, Jake listened only to Jake. Thus, when I seemed perfectly normal (it was back to Normalcy Month) he ordered them to let me out. It seemed an unreasonable thing to do, even to me.

Chapter Fifty-one

`Luke, you're a quack,' Fred Boyd said to me, smiling and looking out our kitchen windows toward the old barn and

poison ivy fields.

`Mmmm,' I said, as Lil moved past our table back outdoors to get the groceries.

`A Phi Beta Kappa quack, a brilliant quack, but a quack,' he skid.

`Thanks, Fred. You're kind.'

`The trouble is,' he said, dunking a somewhat stale doughnut into his lukewarm coffee, `that some of it makes sense.

That confuses the issue. Why can't you just be a complete fool or charlatan?'

`Huh. Never thought of that. I'll have to let the Die consider it' Lil and Miss Welish came in from the yard with the

two children clamoring after them, clawing at the bags of groceries Lil carried in her arms. When Lil took out a box of

cookies and distributed three each to the two children, they wandered back outdoors, arguing halfheartedly about who

had the largest.

Miss Welish, dressed in white tennis shirts and blouse, bounced girlishly and a bit chubbily across the floor to hustle

up some fresh coffee and deliver the fresh pastry we'd been promised. Fred watched her, sighed, yawned and tipped

way back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head.

`And where's it all going to end, I wonder?' he said.

`What?' I asked.

`Your dice therapy business: `The Die only knows.'

`Seriously. What do you think you'll achieve?'

`Try it yourself,' I said.

`I have. You know I have. And it's fun; I admit it. But my God, if I took it seriously I'd have to change completely.'

`Precisely.'

`But I like the way I am: `So do I, but I'm getting bored with you,' I said. `It's variety and unpredictability we like in

our friends. Those capable of the unexpected we cherish; they capture us because we're intrigued by how they "work."

After a while we learn how they work, and our boredom resumes. You've got to change, Fred.'

'No, he hasn't,' said Lil, bringing us lemonade, a Sara Lee Coffee Cake and a bottle of vitamins and sitting at the end

of the table. `I liked Luke the way he was before, and I want Fred to stay just the way he is.'

`It's just not so, Lil. You were bored and unhappy with me before I became the Dice Man. Now you're entertained and