Hearts

In 1970 I was asked to do a story or article for a British publication, BOOKS AND

BOOKMEN, at the Christmas season. As always, I pondered, and came up with a notion that was a cross between essay and story. In fact it's more like a preachment, which I normally don't do. But I refuse to be limited to any special type, so have done about as wide a range of writing as anyone in the genre. This was the one published story I overlooked when Anthonology was assembled, so it had to wait for this sequel volume.

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Perhaps there is no greater store of evil in the world than there has been before. But modern technology magnifies its impact and spreads a share to many people who might have been spared in prior centuries. Thus it is that the spirit of Christmas seems deafened by the roar of the jet, blinded by television, suffocated by smog. Charity is subordinated to commercialism, greed and desperation.

In all the town only Amberly was free from evil. He had nothing, he wanted nothing; he was a wanderer, a nonentity. Yet he felt the oppression of dissatisfaction about him, and he wished that everyone might be blessed with the peace of mind he experienced.

Amberly walked about the town on Christmas Eve, diverting his mind from the chill of the night by concentrating on the problems of others. In one house a child was crying with a stomachache, for he had eaten gluttonously. Amberly took that agony to himself and walked on with one hand holding his midriff while the child went blissfully to sleep.

In another house a husband quarreled bitterly with his wife. Amberly drew in their anger and walked on with bad temper while they kissed and decorated their tree.

He met a man on the street who was morose because his employer had suffered business losses and had provided only token Christmas bonuses. Amberly absorbed that frustration and went on disgruntled while the man found sudden pleasure in his decision to donate the sum to charity.

Three children were playing Hearts in their bedroom, their voices shrill with dismay as the adverse cards appeared. Amberly accepted their ire, and they laughed cheerfully with the pleasure of the game while he felt the pang of negative scores. He was playing his own game of Hearts by amassing the bad while others retained the good. He became more evil with every living heart he purged.

A lonely widow was afraid. Amberly took that fear and left her confident while he nervously avoided shadows.

An old man wept with despair, knowing that his grasping relatives desired his early demise.

Amberly brought in that despair together with the avarice of the relatives, and there was a joyous family reunion while he longed for a rich legacy he simultaneously despaired to yield.

A boy cursed his dog, who had chewed a new toy. Amberly punctuated his gait with expletives while they romped.

A young woman preened herself excessively before the mirror. Amberly acquired her vanity and left her sweetly modest.

Each contact degraded Amberly but ennobled the town. At last only one bit of evil remained, and to that he was drawn. A young man stood in the park, intending suicide.

Rejected, he had dosed himself with LSD and stolen a gun. Amberly passed, taking the weapon and its implications. The youth departed whistling: There were other girls, and tonight was Christmas Eve.

Amberly walked on, completely cursed. All about him the people of the town celebrated a more wonderful occasion than they had ever known before: Christmas season free from evil! The goodness that once had competed with ambient evil in each heart now had free rein. Amberly had given the greatest gift of all.

But at what price? He seethed with greed, jealousy and fury. Pain suffused his body, fear tormented his mind, despair gripped his soul. "To hell with Christmas!" he cried, feeling perverse pride in the boldness of expression while despising the attitude it reflected.

Then he remembered the gun. Drug-visions slithered across his wincing perceptions, and a nimbus of evil surrounded the weapon. There remained one sin he had not embraced: the final one. He brought the black empty eye up to meet his tortured living orb and girded himself in cowardice to—

"Joy to the world!" Powerful and pure, the melody embraced him. The people of the town were here, caroling him with all the rapture of their reborn innocence.

The song ended. The man who had donated his bonus to charity opened his Bible and read: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son..." And Amberly realized that the sins of the world had never been his to expiate. The very name of the holiday identified the One assigned to that task, almost 2000 years before.

Amberly's effort had been a mockery, no more than a macabre game of Hearts. He had tried to assume total evil to spare others, but had only made himself miserable.

The rich happy old man kneeled to place warm new boots on Amberly's feet. The confident widow wrapped a warm shawl about his shivering shoulders. The modest young woman took his arm and led him to the banquet loving couples had prepared. Cheerful children smiled at him. "He got it all," one whispered. "Every single bad card!"

Then the peace of mind he had cherished before was restored in double measure, for this was the rule of the game. But no evil returned to the hearts of the people, for in fact he had not been taking but giving. Evil is a moral vacuum that cannot survive in the presence of good. A gift of this type always multiplies itself.

Perhaps there is no lesser store of evil in the world than there has been before. But its impact seems diminished, for modern technology only serves the will of mankind and spreads some share of good to every heart. Christmas is dominated by generosity, joy and love.