JACK WILLIAMSON
THE HOLE IN THE WORLD
Dear Dad," Amy's note began, "I found your address on
a letter from Mom's
lawyer. You don't have to write back to me, but I hope you will. I want
to know
if you are happy with Miss Winkle. Mom says she's a vicious bitch. I hope that's
wrong. I'm awful sad about the trouble I made between you and More. I know I was
sometimes
so bad you had to hit me, but I'll always love you. Even if you can't
pay the support.
"If
you can write back, please send it to Millie. She's my best friend. Her
address is on the
envelope. Dad, I want you to know I love you. I always will,
no matter what."
The signature
was a messy ink stain. She must have cried on it. Maybe she really
did love him. She had
even sworn she did, crying on the witness stand. She'd
told the judge he hadn't hit her
often. Never really hard. She had gotten the
bruises and broken her arm when she tripped
and fell down the stairs.
A cute little kid, but he couldn't risk an answer. Gretchen and
her
blood-sucking attorney would eat him alive with anything they got their greedy
hands on.
He ran the letter through the shredder. His worry today was the spot
on his chin. He had
first noticed it while he was shaving.
A tiny white spot with jagged edges, it looked like
a fleck of eggshell. But it
wasn't eggshell. His fingers couldn't feel it. It wouldn't rub
off. Frowning at
it, he studied his face again. Still firm enough, pleasing enough when he
smiled. The white fleck was still there, but he had other matters on his mind.
He'd been
alone all week, but Creighton and Zara were both due back today.
Creighton had been off at
company headquarters, setting up his new franchise.
Zara was away in Dayton, where her
sister was having a baby. The franchise meant
money, and Zara loved money as much as he
loved her. He was picking her up at
noon.
And tonight --
Thinking of tonight, he let the
razor foil caress his face again. His chin had
to be smooth, because whiskers scratched
Zara's delicate skin. She loved to have
him begin with a massage of her sweet little feet
and work up from there. He
splashed aftershave in his hand and rubbed the spot again.
Still
there, it looked larger. Maybe a floater? But floaters were dark and it
was white. He shut
one eye and then the other. Both eyes saw it. Maybe he'd had
a drink too many at Steve's
stag party. He tried to whistle on his way
downstairs, but his lips were dry and a dull
ache throbbed at the back of his
skull and the house was too empty.
Gretchen had taken most
of the furniture as well as the kids, but Amy had left
her school photo tacked to the
refrigerator door with a heart-shaped magnet. The
spot blotted out half her freckled grin.
He ran hot water out of the tap to make
instant coffee and ate a stale doughnut before he
hurried to the office.
Creighton wasn't in.
"He said he'd be here," he told the secretary,
"to talk about the franchise -- "
"Ask him about it." She was a straight-spined,
sharp-voiced, God-crazed spinster
who had never liked him. "He called from Hawaii to say
he'll be in later today."
"Hawaii?" Goggling at her, he saw the spot above her lifted nose.
"I thought he
was in Chicago, arranging my new franchise."
"Chicago?" She pushed up her
glasses to give him an indignant glare. "Mr.
Creighton has been on vacation in Hawaii.
He'll be here this afternoon."
She swung back to her computer.
What the hell? Creighton
hadn't mentioned Hawaii. He rubbed his chin and tried
to check his sales totals for the
month, but the spot blanked the figures out.
His head was pounding. His throat felt
parched. He got a drink of water and
looked at his chin in the lavatory mirror. No longer
white, it shone like a
fleck of tinfoil. He washed his face and saw it still there.
Bothered
more than ever, he called Dr. Kroman, the eye man on the top floor. He
knew the nurse, a
feisty little redhead. She said she could work him in if he
came up at ten. He studied the
spot again. Now it was nearly the color of blood
and flickering unsteadily, though still
there was nothing he could feel. The
face of his watch was a crimson shimmer, but he could
read the office clock. He
went up at ten and the nurse put him in a heavy chair with his
head in a vise.
Kroman was a fat, wheezy man who smelled faintly of something that didn't
quite
cover an unpleasant breath. Squinting through a battery of lenses, he endured
the
breath and a dagger of light stabbing his eyes. The spot made it hard to
tell which lens
was better, but Kroman seemed not to care.
"Sir, you're a lucky man!" Booming cheerily,
Kroman backed away. "I find nothing
organic. Your eyes are perfectly normal."
"But I've
still got the spot." He sat blinking at it. "It's bigger now, turning
yellow."
"It's nothing
physical." Kroman shrugged at his anxiety. "Nothing at all. If
you're really concerned, you
might talk to a good psychologist."
"I am concerned. When I look past your head, all I see
is a hole in the wall."
"Really?" Kroman chuckled as if at a joke and popped a breath-saver
into his
mouth.
"Doctor, I'm not crazy!" He squinted at Kroman, who was suddenly headless.
"Not
that crazy."
"I don't say you are." Kroman smothered another chuckle. "I'm no
psychiatrist,
but you shouldn't hesitate if you think you need help. A mental condition is
no
disgrace today."
The nurse was at the door, urgently beckoning.
"Solipsism!" Kroman
started after her and turned back. "Ever hear of that? The
philosophic theory that the self
is the only reality. The rest of the world only
illusion. Logically, you can't prove the
existence of anything outside yourself.
All you really know, or think you know, is what you
see and hear and feel. The
rest could be hallucination. A fascinating notion, don't you
think?"
A cold fist had clenched on his stomach. He felt too sick to think.
"If your problem
persists -- " Kroman's voice was a far-off drone he hardly
heard. "You might want to
consult a competent neurologist. The mind's still a
mystery. Even the senses are sometimes
tricky. You can still feel the fingers of
an amputated arm."
The nurse beckoned again, but
Kroman wasn't through.
"Think about it, sir! Just think about it. For all you could prove,
God may have
created your whole world exclusively for you."
He tried not to think about it.
When the nurse came back to show him out, he
wanted to kid her about the heat in her
fire-colored hair, but the spot had
blotted it out.
"Solipsism!" The word haunted him down
to his car. "Solipsism."
A philosophic theory? Philosophic hogwash! The blustery wind was
real, and its
diesel taint. No doubt about the snarling traffic and a howling ambulance.
The
steering wheel was real, solid to his hands. The whole world a sham, set up by a
trickster
God to test his soul? He didn't believe in God. He didn't believe he
had a soul. He'd never
believed in anything except himself.
The spot had swelled and darkened, now a murky brown.
The traffic lights were
hard to see, but he learned to make them out by looking slightly
aside. He was
in the terminal when Zara's plane came in. People had no faces, but he caught
her tight black jeans and the purple lei around her neck.
"Sorry, Jake." Her voice had an
impatient edge, and she slipped away before he
could kiss her. "You can talk to Ed."
Creighton
was just behind her, about to walk around him.
"Ed?" He caught Creighton's sleeve. "Wait a
minute."
"Harley?" Creighton blinked at him in sleepy surprise. "If you're here about
that
franchise, better find another fish to fry."
"But I thought -- " The spot hid Creighton's
eyes, but he saw the sunburn and
the pink paper lei. "I don't understand."
"You can blame
your ex-wife's attorney." Creighton moved to follow Zara. "He
called last month, trying to
locate you. He convinced us that you're not the man
we wanted."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Your new ex-wife." Creighton looked after Zara, who was walking on, the tight
black jeans
twitching seductively. "She wanted time to make up her mind. We've
had a wonderful week
together, and I helped her make it up." He caught a hint of
Creighton's grin. "No problem
there."
His car was hard to find. Bigger and blacker than ever, the spot made it harder
still
to drive. He rear-ended a bright red Taurus stopped at a light, and sat
with the driver
cursing him for a stone-blind idiot till the cops came. He
couldn't see much of them, but
they gave him a ticket and called a wrecker and
stopped a taxi to take him home.
The driver
helped with the key. He stumbled inside and blinked to find himself.
Amy's photo was gone
when he squinted for it, and most of the refrigerator. He
had to feel his way to the
stairs. The railing slid out of his hand before he
reached the top, and he felt the house
crumbling under him. Clutching at
nothing, he fell into nowhere.