3 + 3

3 + 3

  Michael Summers

  A Tale of Chance

  Copyright 2012 Michael Summers

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  Chapter 1

  The cold from the metal gun barrel seemed to suck the heat out of my temple, as though it was slowly stealing the life out of me already, one degree at a time. I shivered with fear, my mind racing, desperately trying to think of some way out of this that would leave me breathing this time tomorrow. But I had to keep them convinced I was going to do it, otherwise everything would be over. I increased the pressure on the trigger until the gun was a hairs-breadth away from firing, terrified that my trembling would be my downfall. As I stood there, I thought of how this had all started, back when the sun still shined and things made sense for me. It started with a game.

  “It's called snakes and ladders,” he said. “It's easy to play. All you have to do is roll the dice. Ladders you go up, snakes you go down.”

  I nodded, looking at the brightly coloured board with the innocent wonder you can still manage to muster at five years old. I was a quiet kid, well behaved and with a kind of laser-like focus that made me separate from most of the other children. I took the proffered cup from my father's hand and looked dumbly at the dice.

  “Shake it,” he said. “That makes sure it's random. You know what random means, Theo?”

  I shook my head.

  “It means that the number on the dice could be anything – two, three, four, five, six, seven... you get the picture?”

  I nodded. My dad was good at explaining things.

  “Here, I'll roll first.” He took the cup with the dice in it back off me and shook it. I smiled at the noise, then watched intently as he threw the dice onto the floor where we sat. “Five and three, that makes eight,” he said. “So I move forward eight spaces. Now it's your turn.”

  I took the cup and with a clumsy gesture shook it and tipped the dice onto the floor. I didn't even think about it that time.

  “Three and three,” said my dad. “That makes six. So you move forward six spaces.” He pushed my token forward. “Hey, you're on a ladder. Up you go. Now it's my turn again.”

  My dad shook the cup and rolled the dice.

  “Two and one, that makes three. Forward I go!” He moved his counter. “Now it's your turn again.”

  I took the cup off him. I think even at that age I could see that the game was pretty pointless. Anyway, I was still having fun and I rolled again.

  “Three and three again. That's another six.” My dad counted the spaces forwards. He rolled.

  “I get nine. A snake. Typical. Your roll.”

  I rolled.

  “Three and three. That's the third time you've rolled three and three. That's not how dice normally work, just so you know. I'll move you forward six spaces. My turn again.”

  He rolled. Five and six. He moved the token forward.

  “Now you.”

  I rolled. Three and three.

  My dad laughed. “You really like that number, don't you? My turn.”

  He rolled a double six. “Ha, beat that. Oh no, hang on, I'm on a snake again. Down I go.”

  It was my turn to roll. I shook the cup and threw the dice. My dad shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Three and three again. At least you're consistent.”

  He took the cup off me and rolled. Two and five. “Here's the cup,” he said after he had moved. “Now whatever you do, don't roll three and three again otherwise I'll go crazy.”

  I rolled. Six dots stared up like dilated pupils: three and three.

  My dad stopped smiling. “Why don't we miss out my go,” he said. “Roll the dice again.”

  I looked up at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. His face was impassive, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was in serious mode. I shook the dice and rolled.

  My dad shook his head slowly as he muttered the numbers on the dice: “Three and three.”

  “Should I move my counter?” I asked my dad.

  He looked at me. “Lets not bother with that for now. Roll the dice again.”

  “I don't want to,” I said, suddenly afraid. “Let's play something different.”

  “Just one more time,” said my dad, “then we can go and play football in the garden.”

  I shrugged as if to shake away my fear, then shook the dice. I put my hand over the top of the cup and made sure they rattled about inside. Then I rolled.

  Each dice shouted the same number, and that number was three.

  My dad put his hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. “This is probably nothing,” he said. “Don't worry about it. Let's play football.”

  I didn't worry about it for a long time. In fact, my dad never played snakes and ladders with me again. The next time I picked up a pair of dice was when I was thirteen years old and just starting high-school. It was lunchtime and it was unnaturally hot, like the sun was trying to drive us all back inside, but we didn't care. I remember the heat made you snatch your breath in great gulps and seek out the cool patches of grass under trees, where the roots stretched out and formed gnarled eddies of wood that would make you shift uncomfortably if you tried to find somewhere to lie down. It was underneath an oak tree that we sat; Jenny (the girl I fancied), Carl (my best mate), Lee (the guy who only seemed to hang around with me so he could bully me) and myself. Lee thought he was being really rebellious by smoking a cigarette from a pack he had nicked from his mum's handbag. He exhaled and spat expertly in the dust at the base of the tree.

  “I'm bored. You got any money, hobbit?”

  He insisted on calling me hobbit, because I was short and had big feet with hair on top of the toes. He made a point of stamping on them whenever I took my shoes off to get changed for games. I thought he was asking for money off me so he could steal it.

  “No, I'm broke,” I said.

  He reached inside his blazer pocket and pulled something out. For a second I thought he had a knife, but I was relieved to see him open his hand and reveal a pair of dice. “You want a gamble or not?” he said, spitting again.

  I sighed. I couldn't be bothered arguing with Lee, because I knew that he would go on until I said yes.

  “Go on then,” I said. “I've got a few quid.”

  “Good,” he said. “Everyone puts in a quid. Whoever gets a double first wins.”

  At the time I thought it was a pretty daft game, but without letting on I had an instant recollection of the last time I played dice. Everyone else was reaching into their pockets.

  “Okay,” I said. “You go first.” That made me last in the circle. I had to give them a chance, at least.

  Lee shook the dice in his hand and threw them onto the yellowing grass near the tree trunk. “One and two,” he said. “No win.”

  Jenny was next. She rolled and got a five and a four. “No win,” she said. “You next, Carl.”

  Carl threw the dice. “Four and six. Damn.”

  I took the dice off Carl and shook them in my two cupped hands before rolling them onto the parched ground. “Three and three,” I said, trying not to look smug. “I suppose I win.”

  “No,” said Lee. “You didn't roll properly. Do it again.”

  Jenny sighed. “We all saw him, he threw them properly. Give him the money, Lee.”

  “Stop sticking up for him. Tell you what, I'll be kind. I'll let him have another round. I roll first though.”

  I held eye contact with Jenny for a few seconds, watching her roll her eyes at Lee's attempt at being pugnacious. I smiled and shrugged. “Okay,” I said. “Double or quits?”

/>   Lee's jaw went out at this. I knew he couldn't back down.

  “Why not?” he said. “Like I say, I go first.”

  He threw the dice and, with the devil's luck, he got a double four.

  “That'll teach you to be so cocky,” he said, and as if to punctuate his sentence the school bell rang in a shrill wail. “Now give me my money.”

  I didn't mind losing to Lee, because I knew that most of the other kids hated him. Things went pretty bad for him from then on; he got expelled from school, hit the drugs and I heard years later that he was in prison. Things went well for me though. By the end of school I had a load of qualifications and, after angling for her for a long time, Jenny was my girlfriend. I was happy.

  It was in this kind of tentative bliss that I existed until I was twenty one and, drunk with love and hope, I proposed to Jenny. I was delighted when she said “yes”, but also pretty scared. Weddings cost a lot of money - I had to get a job. I applied for everything that was going, and in the end I got a