Guilt

Guilt – By Beulah Lee Harris

Harry Harlan winced at the sound of the heavy metal doors clanging closed behind him. It was so final, being fired and banished from this place. He looked back at the dismal grey building rising up behind the grey walls with only one Sycamore adding a touch of color to the day.

Ah, well, to hell with them, he thought. Who needs to works with pedantic bureaucratic fools and who needs to look after a bunch of slobbering loonies anyway? 

Harry did feel depressed, though, as he stood there with his suitcase between his feet, thinking about the reception he would receive at home. His father would give him that I-told-you-so look and have no sympathy at all. The housekeeper would look her nose down at him as she always had. Why his father put up with that scowling skinny bat, he had no idea.

Yes, Harry was depressed. He was feeling angry, and humiliated, too. Not because he would miss working as a nursing aide at The Rising Sun Institution…Lord, no! It was a terrible place, with its sickly yellow wards and all those weirdos. He had hated working there and had no empathy for the patients, and meals were awful too – even the staff had to put up with soggy cabbage and over-cooked beef or tasteless gruel, but it was a live-in job that paid. Or had. 

On the bus ride home, Harry thought about the reasons for his dismissal…so feeble! So what if he forgot Mr. Jenkins in the bath and he got the shivers a bit…the old man did not die, did he? He would not be traumatized for life by it! Yes, he was impatient with the demanding patients, and yes, he had snapped at Mrs. Maple when she would not take her pills and made her cry, but anything made her cry.

The final straw for the bureaucrats was him lacing Mr. Strickland’s milk with brandy to make him sleep. Ah, silly stuff, and so unfair to be dismissed for silly stuff.

Harry’s depression lifted the moment he walked into the front door and the housekeeper came running with tears pouring down her ruddy cheeks.

“Oh, Master Harry! Thank God you are home!” She sobbed.

His father had passed away in his sleep just the day before.   Harry made all the appropriate noises of sympathy and sorrow, said all the right things, made all the arrangements, and just days later found himself a wealthy man. Fancy that!

 He smiled, looking around at all that was his now - the lush acres of lawn, the sycamores and eucalyptus, the beautifully crafted topiaries, the pristine red brick paving surrounding a large fountain - all this a backdrop for the mansion filled with treasures that he could finally call his, and he had millions coming to him too. He looked up at the sky. All good things, he smiled, all good things…

Harry spent countless days relaxing and doing nothing at all besides indulging in good wine and delicious meals prepared by the housekeeper. He lazed about in the sun and thought about his life and how great it was now.  Was it not Lin Yutang who said “If you can spend a perfectly useless afternoon in a perfectly useless manner, you have learned how to live?”  Oh he had learned how to live, indeed!

The days were blissful, but soon the nights became less so as he began to be plagued by strange dreams.  He could never remember the actual dreams, but the darkness and the bitter taste of failure lingered each morning – until he had his first glass of champagne with breakfast.

Harry also noticed that he was not very popular with the residents of the small community when he visited town. They turned away when he greeted them or they took a long time to serve him when he chose to visit the pub or shop for fashionable suits and shoes.

Harry was lonely. He knew why he was not popular, he knew that his reputation as a selfish son was well known, so he decided to change his ways...in the hope that he would be seen in a better light and perhaps gain a friend or two, even if the respect he desired from the more elite circles, where he might meet a suitable wife, took a bit longer. It was time to give and learn from his past mistakes.

He delighted in his new charitable mood and enjoyed every moment of giving to those in need, and made sure it was noticed. I am a good man now, he thought. Everyone would soon be talking about him and his generosity, and it would surely not take long before he was invited to the best functions and parties.

Filled with hope and happy with his good deeds, Harry was happier with himself, but still the dreams did not stop. He thought he would go mad when he awoke in early hours, sweating and shaking and often in tears, yet not knowing why. Then the sun would rise and a new day would begin. 

After a particularly satisfying morning in the village, Harry told his chauffeur to go home without him. He wanted to sit in the park and watch the beauty all around him before walking home.  He was wearing his new blue linen suit and was hoping that perhaps pretty lady might sit next to him and he could take her for lunch and charm her with his good looks and generosity. He found a vacant bench and enjoyed the birds and butterflies, if not the people – because no matter what, he still did not really like people - and soon he dozed off in the afternoon sun. 

He sleep was plagued by dreams again, and this time it was so real it was as if he was wide awake.

“You are a bad man, Harry Harlan, a bad and selfish man.” An angelic looking adolescent was admonishing him.

“But, how can you say that?” Harry spluttered at the cheek of the boy. “Who do you think you are? Look at what I do for these people on the streets! I –“

“Come,” The boy took him by the hand and lead him into the recent past, as only dreams can. “Look!” He pointed.

Harry saw himself give a beggar ten dollars and smile at the wide-eyed joy of the poor man and at the reluctant approval of passersby. He felt his face redden when he saw himself snatch that ten dollars back when he thought no-one was looking. “Sorry, forgot I need train fare.”

Harry saw himself give a stray dog a piece of his sandwich and enjoy the smiles, especially from the young ladies, and then he saw himself kick out at the dog when it tried to follow him. “Go away, you stupid mutt!”

He saw himself give a loaf a bread to a woman with two children. They were obviously starving and the woman was most grateful until he whispered in her ear. She slapped him sharply before taking her children by the hands and running away, leaving the bread on the pavement.

“Stop this!” Harry shouted at the boy.

“There is more, much more. You must look and repent or suffer the consequences.”

“No!” Harry shouted again. “I said stop! Repent? Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“I am your conscience.  And as your evil to the vulnerable is plain to see and is naked before you, so shall you forever be naked and vulnerable to the rest of mankind.”

Harry awoke with a jolt, suddenly feeling cold despite the sun warm on his suit. He stood up to go home, then looked around in horror as he saw people pointing at him and laughing. 

A few days later, a nursing aide at The Rising Sun Institution nudged her colleague, and said. “That new patient in the corner, the one covering himself with his hands…he looks just like Harry Harlan, doesn’t he?”

“It is him.” He colleague replied. “They found him wandering around the village. He’s completely lost his mind.”

END