VIII

The Victim

OH, WHAT A LOVELY LITTLE ROOM!" exclaimed the woman--hardly more than a girl, really. "It's even nicer than I'd hoped it would be!"

"We do try to please," said the owner. "I had a feeling you'd like it."

"And I do want to thank you for booking such an early flight for me to come here. I had visions of just waiting and waiting for the plane, and I didn't know if I could stand it."

"Well, we'd had reports, you see, that if you had stayed much longer, you would have taken steps to travel here on your own, and if you did, then this room wouldn't have been available--and there was a good chance that there might be nothing you'd like at all. And even if you didn't, if we'd delayed your flight, the only thing we'd have been able to offer you were rooms that were considerably more cramped and not at all as well decorated. So we decided to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak."

"Oh, don't apologize. I can't see why people are so anxious to postpone their travel until the last possible second. I know some who had even a worse time than I had, and yet they keep calling up to get extensions on their stay over there."

"Generally that's because they don't think that this country exists, you know."

"I've never been able to understand that. What possible sense could there be in waiting for a plane if it wasn't going to take you anywhere?"

"Ah, but you see, many of them don't realize that what they're actually in is an airport."

"But that's silly. All they have to do is look out the window."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But many of them don't."

"Well, it's not for lack of windows, certainly."

"No, we tried to put them throughout the building."

"You know what really bothered me over there? The fact that nobody every wanted to talk about what was really important, like what was outside and where the planes were all going, and what we were doing in that waiting room in the first place. If I'd bring up the subject, they'd all shush me because I was interrupting the football game on the monitor, or they were busy shopping for the right kind of dress for the party. Even the color of their nail polish was more important than anything I wanted to talk about."

"I know. But of course, you might say that they thought that they were making the best of their time there. Many of them want to sample everything in the airport before their flight is called, and they run around from shop to shop and lounge to lounge because they're never sure when their flight is supposed to leave. We thought of installing timetables, but reconsidered when we realized that too many people would simply do nothing until the last minute, and even then, instead of getting ready for the journey, they'd just be in a frantic rush to see all they'd missed."

"That's what I mean. You'd think they didn't care. Believe me, I tried to make them see what they were doing, but they didn't want to listen, and they'd just call me a nut."

"They did that to me, too, you know, when I was over there."

"I know. Isn't it discouraging?"

"Well no, not really," answered the owner.

"How can you say that? You of all people!"

"Well in the first place, many of them do seem to settle in rather well over here, and find their rooms quite comfortable--though from an absolute standpoint, so to speak, they aren't overly blessed with furnishings. But if they're happy in them, and would only be uncomfortable in something more elaborate, who are we to impose our standards on them?"

"What do you mean? I thought that that was the whole point of your going over there in the first place."

"Oh, no, you misunderstood. Many do. No, all I was trying to do, given that they didn't want me to build this mansion over there, was to let them know the house was here and show them the kinds of things that would make them dissatisfied with any room in it. But their standards prevail. If they don't want a room, after having been informed of it--and after seeing it, if they'd like, when they get here--then we respect their wishes, and our blessings go with them even as they wander around in the darkness outside."

"But how could anyone not want a room, especially once he's seen it?'

"You'd be surprised. You see, most of the rooms turn out to have furnishings that people are a little surprised to find there--even though they'd ordered them themselves while they were in the other country. The trouble, you see, is that what they ordered and what they thought they were ordering don't always agree, though we try to make the catalogue as clear as possible. And when they get here and find out what it actually is, then some of them don't feel comfortable with it."

"But isn't it something you've given them? And how could anyone be dissatisfied with that?"

"Well, because, as I said, their standards are the ones they judge things by. Many of them ask to change their order once they see it in the room; but once you're over here, it's too late. Even if you could change it, nothing else would satisfy you any better. Because your standards are set by that time, you see."

"Well, I suppose I can see your point, but when you're back there, what you've just said amounts in practice to what I was saying. And I tried to tell them. They'd go into the bar and drink, for instance, and I'd tell them that I didn't want to go, because I didn't want to do that kind of thing to myself, and I didn't try to preach at them, really, but they took my refusal as some kind of self-righteous sneering at them; and they just wanted to have nothing to do with me. It was hard."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it? They didn't want to accept you for what you were."

"That was just it! I used to try to go to parties with them, but I couldn't bring myself to get drunk and do drugs and all the things they thought were fun, and they'd ask me why I didn't just try it to see what it was like, and what was I supposed to say? And when I did say that I didn't want to do that kind of thing to myself, they acted as if I was stuck up. But what was I supposed to do?"

"Well, you were certainly supposed not to do harm to yourself."

"And that's what they were doing to themselves, and I cared about them. I mean, I'm a very caring person. People come to me when they're in trouble, and I listen to them, and I can sometimes help them, because they know I care. But these people wouldn't even let me help them. And I'm a sensitive person. It really bothers me when people hate me even though I'm just trying to help them. I mean, I know it shouldn't, but I can't help it; it just does."

"They wanted you to just let them alone."

"That's right. That's what they said. But they were ruining their lives and the lives of their parents and the other people who loved them. And what should I have done? Just stand by and let them make a wreck of themselves?"

"Did they know they were doing this?"

"They certainly should have. I told them and told them. And they did, actually. Sometimes they'd come back at me and say, 'Will you shut up? It's my life, and if I want to ruin it, that's my privilege.'"

"It is, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"It is their life, and if they want to wreck it, that's the privilege we give them."

"But how can you? That's what I always wondered. How can you just sit over here, knowing what they're doing, and able to keep them from doing it, and go ahead and let them do it?"

"Well, of course, we try to see to it that they're informed about what they're doing and what effect it's going to have."

"But they don't listen!"

"That's true, many of them don't. We have to shock some of them into actually hearing what we are saying, and some of them only listen for a very short time. We tend often to issue their boarding call at that moment, because we can foresee that, like you, if we delayed, then the moment would be lost and they'd never accept their room. That's what we're really interested in; whether they have a chance to accept their room once they get here, not in what they get up to over there in the waiting room."

"I don't understand that. Don't you care what happens over there?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'care,' I suppose. We care enough about people to respect their freedom. If they know what they are doing and decide to do it, then we think it's not respectful of us to interfere."

"Even for their own good?"

"You see, we happen to think that their good is that they be free to make of their lives what they want. It sometimes involves what most people would call a miserable life; but if they find they would be more miserable doing what most people would be happy doing, why should we make them more miserable for their own good?"

"I don't see that at all. I don't think you understand what life is really like over there."

"You forget that I was over there myself."

"Yes, but you didn't really share what our life is like. You couldn't. These people can't really know what's good for them or they'd never choose the things they choose. And if you won't tell them, somebody's got to."

"Well, as I say, we do see to it that the information is available to them."

"That's what I mean. You just lay it out there for them to look at, but you don't make them see it. How can you say that they're well informed under those conditions? For instance, you said that many of them don't think believe that this country exists. Well, why don't you show them?"

"We've certainly told them about it."

"Yes, but if you showed them, they couldn't deny it."

"Oh, come now," said the owner. "When I was over there among you, I showed them all sorts of things, and they wouldn't believe their own eyes; they said it was all a trick. Besides, our research indicates that the kind of information we give allows for people when they get here to be surprised, so to speak, into accepting their room, while if we showed it to them when they were over there, many more of them would reject it as a fraud intended to keep them out of the shops and so on in the airport."

"Well I personally think that somebody who really cares about another person has a duty to do everything in his power to see to it that the other person doesn't wreck his life. If not for his sake, then for the sake of the others that he drags down with him. I've seen it happen too often!"

"Well, we seem to have something of a disagreement here that we can perhaps iron out later in our conversations after you have settled in. Do you like the room? Do you think you want to stay?"

"Oh yes! I love it, in fact. That little balcony is the cutest thing; I always wanted a balcony I could sit on and look out at the scenery. But what's that tent around it?"

"Oh, that's just temporary. It turns out that the garden beyond is too bright to get used to all at once; it will be removed soon after you take up residence."

"What's the view like? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Well, there's a small lake down below with a pergola beside it, and mountains off in the distance. That sort of thing."

"Oh, I was hoping that was what it was! I'm sure it's going to be just perfect!"

"We try our best, Sandra. Now is there anything else about the room that you'd like to ask about?"

You can take all the time you need."

She walked about the room, examining the furniture, looking over the books on the shelf, and making little squeals of delight as she recognized what was familiar. But she stopped, puzzled, at a picture on the wall. "What is this picture of another room?" she asked.

"That's another person's room."

"But why is it here? Do I know her?"

"It's a man, actually, and yes, you do know him. It's Frank's room."

"Oh. . . . Is he here?"

"Didn't you know? He arrived shortly before you did."

"But I--I never expected to find him here. I mean, he hated me. I thought you knew that."

"Yes, we did."

"But it wasn't just ordinary hatred. He actually raped me once. It was in his living room, one time when I had come over to make a friendly visit, and we got to talking, and--"tears began streaming down her face--"and I was just trying to help him, and he--and he--said, 'I can't take any more of this!' and he grabbed me and pushed me down on the floor, and--and raped me, and said, 'So you think I'm rotten do you? I'll show you how rotten I can be! You've pestered me and pestered me, and this is what I think of it and of you and all you stand for!' And all I ever tried to do was help him, and he did this horrible thing to me! How could you not know that? You're supposed to know everything. It was the most terrible thing that ever happened in my whole life!"

"Yes, Sandra," said the owner quietly, "we were aware of the whole thing."

"And he's here? You've rewarded him for it? How could you?"

"No, we haven't rewarded him. Nothing here is a reward; it's all a gift."

"And look at the room he's got! Look at those French doors and the scenery outside them! It must be one of the best rooms in the house!"

"Oh, no. Far from it, actually. But that set of French doors and the scenery was a special gift from someone else, not simply from us."

"From someone else? Who?"

"You'll have to brace yourself for this. It was from you, actually."

"From me? Why would I give him a gift like that? He should be punished, not rewarded! Don't you realize what he did to me? He ruined my whole life! I could never forget it!"

"I know, and, to be perfectly truthful, it was your hatred for him that built that addition onto his room."

"My hatred! I never hated him. I forgave him!"

"Yes, that's what you kept telling everyone--and yourself too. But you wanted him punished, you remember; you lived for the thought of seeing him punished, and it hurt and galled you that he seemed to be getting away with what he had done, because no one believed you."

"I know! It was so unfair! There I was suffering, and no one would believe me! I felt so bad I could hardly mention it, and when I told someone, she just looked at me and said, 'I know you broke up with him, Sandra, but don't try to make yourself a martyr now.' A martyr! As if I were just making it up! And it really happened! It really happened!"

"Yes, it really happened."

"And it was horrible! You have no idea how horrible it was!" She looked over at the owner, as if a revelation had dawned on her. "Not even you care, do you?" she said bitterly. "You go giving him that beautiful room, in spite of everything, and you have the nerve to tell me that I am responsible for the best part of it! What kind of monster are you, anyway? And to top it all off, you say that it's my hatred that did it, and I've never hated anyone in my whole life!"

"I'm sorry if you take it that way. But that's what the facts are. You see, what we call hatred is wishing harm to another person, and being miserable because he is happy. Wanting him punished, if you like."

"Why shouldn't I want him punished after what he did to me? It's only simple justice!"

"We don't work on simple justice here. But of course, what his hatred did for you is here in your room, just as yours is there in his."

"But then . . . I think I know what you're going to say. What about this patio? Is that just your gift to me? Or is it . . . ?"

"Yes, Frank built you that patio with his hatred."

"Oh no! Oh no! I can't stand it! The thing I thought was going to be my joy and pleasure! And now look what you've done to it!"

"Sandra, it's still what it was a minute ago."

"Still what it was! Do you think I could set foot on it now, knowing who's responsible for it? I'd die a thousand deaths before I'd give him the satisfaction!"

"Sandra, listen to me! Listen! He's very happy now to know that what he thought ruined your life actually had no other effect than to make it that much more beautiful. He's so grateful that he wasn't able to do you any damage, Sandra. He loves you. It took him a long time, but he loves you."

"Oh, he does, does he? Is that what he says?"

"No, he hasn't said it explicitly, but that's what the truth is. You should have seen his face when I told him about the patio."

"How do you know? How do you know he wasn't lying? He could con anybody."

"Sandra, look at me. I know."

"Well even if he does, I don't see how that changes things. He still ruined my life over there. I could never act normally around men again. How do you expect me to sit on this patio and look out over the landscape and be able to forget why I'm there? I could forgive him for what he did, but how do you expect me to forget it? Nothing he could do could ever make up for it! Nothing! Nothing anyone could do!"

"Sandra, please! Listen!"

"No! I won't! You're just like everyone else! And I thought it would be different here; I thought I could at last find someone who shared my values! But no! You're just as bad as the rest of them. You go along with evil and don't try to stop it, and you even reward it, and you do this to someone who's never done anything in her whole life but try to help people and to do the right thing! There's nobody who shares my values! I'm totally alone!"

"There are those who love you, Sandra, and want you to be happy. You're not alone unless you isolate yourself. Please don't do that."

"Happy? Here? You've made it impossible for me ever to be happy here! You don't love me any more than anyone else does! You're just saying that to keep me here so you can torture me by holding that horrible moment before my eyes all the time. And all I was trying to do was help you do your work, and you punish me with the most cruel of all punishments for it! You hate me. Everyone hates me! You're just as evil as all the rest of them! I can't stand it! I can't stand it! I hate you all! Every last one of you!"

--And she rushed out into the darkness, sobbing and screaming.