The older boy in front of Randy pounded his fist against the makeshift counter. "This game is rigged!" he shouted. "Those bottles are weighted down or something."

The old man running the game didn't say a word. He just shrugged.

"Come on," called the boy to his cronies. "Let's go ride the Tilt-a-Whirl. I'm not gonna waste any more money on these stupid games."

Once the older boys moved out, Randy stepped forward and offered two quarters to the old man.

"I'd like to play," he said, quietly.

"Very good. All you have to do is knock all six bottles over with one throw." The man handed Randy a battered softball.

Randy aimed and then hurled the ball with all his might. His throw landed just to the left of the center of the pyramid of milk bottles. Five bottles tumbled instantly. The top one bounced once and caromed into the last bottle which rocked briefly before tipping over.

"Yes!" shouted Randy as he jumped up and down.

The old man smiled. "We have a winner," he called loud enough for everyone in the midway to hear. He doffed his top hat. "I, Mr. Marvel salute you for your amazing accuracy."

There was a smattering of applause from the small crowd of people gathered around Mr. Marvel's booth.

"Congratulations, young man," continued Mr. Marvel. "You can pick any of the prizes on the top row."

Randy looked over his choices. There were a half-dozen large stuffed animals, a rubber band-powered airplane, and an old wooden box.

"I'm way too old for stuffed animals," he announced. "I had one of those planes once; it broke right away. What's that box thing?"

The old man's smile grew even wider. "That, my boy, is a fortune teller. Each morning, it will tell you something that's going to happen to you that day."

"That can't be real."

"Maybe not, but wouldn't you like to find out."

Randy paused. "Sure. Why not? It's better than any of that other junk."

***

The next morning, Randy put his prize to the test.

Inside the box, he found six standard cube-shaped dice. They were old and worn. Most of the corners were rounded from years of use. Each was painted a different color: yellow, red, blue, green, white, and black. There were also six leather-bound books. The only writing on the cover of each book was a number, one through six.

A yellowed piece of paper provided the instructions.

Each morning, the user was supposed to roll all six dice in a single toss. The number on the yellow die told which book to look in. The red die indicated which of the six sections of the book to use. Each section had thirty-six pages divided into six chapters. The blue die gave the chapter. The number on the green die gave the page. There were six sets of six lines of writing on each page. The white and black dice specified the set and line. The line was the prediction for the day.

At the bottom of the instruction page was one additional warning. In large, bold print the message said: "It is highly recommended that you only roll the dice once per day. Fate does not take kindly to being disrespected."

Randy paged through one of the books. Most of the predictions seemed to be generic. Things like, "You will have good fortune" or "A friend needs help." Some were much more specific. Randy noticed one that said, "You will get a puppy today" and another that predicted, "You will be late for an important appointment."

He carefully removed the books and set them to one side. Cupping the dice in his hands, he shook them briefly before letting them fall into the box. The yellow die told him to look in book three. After finding the correct page, section, chapter, set, and line. He read his fortune.

"Kindness will be repaid."

Randy frowned. That wasn't very exciting. He considered rerolling but before he could do so his mother called him down for breakfast.

The day turned out to be a normal day. Randy forgot about the prediction, not thinking about it until after supper when his dad called him into the living room.

"Oh, Randy," his father began, "I forgot to tell you something. Mrs. Hall told me that you helped her carry the leftover cakes from the cake raffle back to her car yesterday."

"Yeah, she looked like she was going to drop them. It wasn't a big deal."

"Well, she was impressed by your kindness. She told me that she wanted you to have this." He reached into a small paper sack sitting next to his recliner and pulled out a paper plate holding a piece of chocolate cake.

It wasn't until the third bite that Randy realized that the day's prediction had come true.

***

For the next three weeks, Randy checked his fortune religiously. All of the predictions came true but they were simple, boring, and easily explained. He was beginning to grow tired of the whole thing. There was nothing special or magical going on. The dice were simply giving him fortunes that were obvious. Nothing magical was going on.

He almost didn't roll the dice one morning but gave in to the temptation. He'd give it one last try. The numbers led him to the strangest prediction yet: "You will run into the girl of your dreams today."

Randy chuckled to himself. He was eleven years old. He didn't dream about girls. Sure, he could tell the difference between a pretty girl and one that wasn't but he had no desire to start interacting with them. Girls were stupid.

That afternoon, he was hanging around the city park, looking for aluminum cans to turn in at the recycling center. They were paying three cents per pound. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of color and looked up just in time to see a shiny red convertible pull into a parking spot close to Earl's Ice Cream Parlor. only a few feet from where he was digging in a garbage can.

A man climbed out of the driver's side door and walked to the other side of the car and helped a young girl, about Randy's age, out of the vehicle. Randy had never seen a girl as pretty as she was. She had short blond hair with tight curls. Her eyes were bright blue and seemed to twinkle. This girl was more than pretty. She was beautiful.

He quickly pulled his hands from the garbage can and wiped them on the front of his shirt. Immediately, regretting that action, he looked down to make sure he hadn't made a mess of his clothing.

When he looked up, the man and girl were already passed him and walking into the ice cream shop. He hovered around the door for a few minutes, wondering what to do. Should he go inside? Would it be better to wait by the door? Maybe she'd talk to him when she came out.

In the end, fear and lack of confidence won out. She'd never talk to a slob like him. Hopefully, he'd run into her some other day; someday when he was better prepared to introduce himself. He grabbed his bag of empty cans and climbed on his bike. While he rode toward home, he looked back over his shoulder a couple of times, hoping to get one last glimpse of his angel.

***

Randy didn't see his dream girl again. He continued to use the fortune-telling device for a few weeks and while the fortunes continued to be generally correct, they never matched the level of accuracy or the magic of the dream girl prediction. Soon, he only used the device sporadically and, in a few months, he quit using it.

Years passed. Randy graduated somewhere in the middle of his class and went to the local community college. During the summer after his freshman year, he got a job with the highway department. He operated the "Slow" and "Stop" sign at road construction sites. The job paid well, though it did prove to be rather boring. He found his mind often wandering while he stood at his position along the side of the road.

During one moment of reverie, he flashed back to when he was a kid and used the fortune-telling device. He had almost forgotten about it. He couldn't think of a single example of the device not being correct on some level. Was it just the ambiguity of the predictions or was there something more going on?

Then he remembered the girl of his dreams.

That night he searched the deep recesses of his closet until he found the box. A quick check showed that everything was still there.

***

The next morning, he tossed the dice and used the results to look up the day's prediction. He almost dropped the book when he read it: "You will run into the girl of your dreams today."

What were the odds of those numbers coming up? Surely, this was some sort of strange coincidence. Still, if the box's predictions always come true, that would mean he would have another chance to meet his angel. She would be a full-grown woman by now. Would he find her as beautiful as he had when she was a little girl all those years ago? He had a little extra bounce in his step when he set off for work that morning.

The crew was doing some patching and paving along Highway 95. The road was one lane for a stretch of nearly a mile. Randy stood at one side of the construction zone holding up the "Stop" side of his sign. When he got the message from his supervisor on the other end, he would flip his sign and let the long line of cars start down the remaining lane.

His phone buzzed and a quick check showed it was his boss. The text simply said, "Slow." Randy turned his sign and watched the caravan of cars begin to move.

A green mini-van passed by his position, then a black SUV, and then a red convertible. Randy noticed a large dent in the side of the sports car and glanced up at the vehicle's driver. He nearly dropped his sign. Behind the steering wheel was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. She had long blond hair that danced in the wind. As she drove past him, their gazes met for a brief moment. She smiled. Randy found himself mesmerized by her beauty and her deep blue eyes. Then she was gone.

He considered dropping his sign and chasing after her or calling his supervisor to have him stop the traffic but he was too slow and too cowardly. The prediction box had been right once again, but he had blown another opportunity.

***

Three years later, Randy still worked for the county road crew, only now it was full-time. College hadn't been right for him. He no longer had the duty of controlling traffic. Now he was responsible for the actual roadwork. Sometimes he drove a bulldozer or painting truck. Other times he shoveled rock or smoothed fresh asphalt.

The use of the fortune-telling books and die were still part of his daily ritual. It was because of this morning's prediction that he was finding it difficult to focus on his work. During the night, he had his usual dream. He and his beautiful dream girl were running through a field of daisies, holding hands and smiling at each other.

As usual, the next morning's prediction was not what Randy wanted. It was something about his superior being upset with him. Randy shook his head. This just wasn't fair. He was sick of all these useless predictions. The instructions hadn't forbidden him from rolling the dice a second time, it had only been a recommendation. He grabbed the dice and flung them into the box. When he looked up the prediction, he grinned from ear to ear. The corresponding line on the correct page of the indicated book said, "The girl of your dreams will run into you today."

He was supposed to be packing down loose asphalt along the side of a newly paved section of road but he found himself watching the passing traffic more often than doing actual work. His supervisor had even reprimanded him a couple of times but he still kept looking for a red convertible.

Shortly before quitting time, he finally saw the car he had been waiting for. It was the last car in a long line rolling through the construction zone. It was quite a distance behind the second last car but catching up quickly.

Randy leaned forward to get a better look. The car had to be the same one he had seen twice before, though older and not nearly as brightly colored as it had once been. When the car got closer, he strained to get a good look at the driver. It was a woman but was it his dream girl? She had blond hair but it was hard to see her face, something was obstructing his view.

"Johnson," shouted his boss, "what do you think you're doing? Get out of the roadway."

Randy did not move. He wasn't going to miss his chance again. After the car directly before the convertible passed by, he stepped out into the road and began waving his arms. The car kept coming. By the time he realized the driver was too busy looking at her cell phone to notice him, it was too late.

Randy died from his injuries a few hours later.

Randy's parents grieved his loss for the rest of their lives. They were so caught up in their despair that they didn't even think it was strange when an old man wearing a worn top hat showed up at their door asking to buy some sort of weird dice game and a set of books that Randy had owned.

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