The Lost Vision of Walter Will
by Nikki Little
It was another day in the life of newspaper columnist Walter Will. Today he had written another psalm of praises to the capitalist system in the United States and praised it for having completely wiped out the worst excesses of poverty there. He claimed there was no better country on Earth in which to be poor. He had done well today. Around seven o'clock in the evening, he began to drift off to sleep. A new acquisition in his living room, a full-length antique mirror with baroque framing, held his attention. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he saw a young, freckle-faced, red-haired girl in the mirror. Alas, there was no staying awake.
A sound disturbed his slumber and Walter Will, proud promoter of free-market capitalism, opened his eyes. The girl in the mirror had returned. She appeared to be about fifteen, but it was difficult to tell. "Come, Walter," she seemed to say. "Come take a walk with me."
Walter Will arose from his chair and walked toward the girl. She wasn't in the room, only in the mirror. Yet Walter Will could hear her. "This isn't real," thought Walter Will. "I'm dreaming." The girl in the mirror beckoned. And Walter Will stepped through.
"Take a look around you," said the girl. "What do you see?" Walter Will looked around the forlorn neighborhood of abandoned homes with peeling paint and decaying wood. Notices appeared on the front doors of many of the homes. It was obvious that the homes with notices on the front doors were unoccupied. The girl beckoned to a reflection in a puddle of water. "Another place to visit, Walter." Walter Will stepped into the puddle with the girl and was enveloped in a curtain of shimmering silver.
"Now look around this place," said the girl. Walter Will looked around him. Palm trees lined the streets. Soft, warm breezes floated through the air. Walter Will recognized this place. It was Honolulu. Then he noticed all the people sitting up against the sides of buildings, meager bags of belongings beside them. They were everywhere, and they were glaring at him. "Are you frightened, Walter? Would you like to leave?" Yes, Walter Will wanted to leave. The girl beckoned to a reflection in a Vietnamese grocery store window. Once again, Walter Will was enveloped in a curtain of shimmering silver.
"What do you see this time, Walter?" The wreckage of the floodwaters that had inundated New Orleans was clearly visible. Whole neighborhoods looked abandoned. Many people were living in homes still caked in mud and obviously unfit for human habitation. "Where is this wonderful country in which to be poor that you speak of, Walter? Do you see it anywhere here?" The girl beckoned toward a creek in which she was reflected. Once again, Walter Will was transported to a new place in a curtain of shimmering silver.
This time they were sitting in the back of a classroom in which every student was a black teenager. There was no air conditioning and every window, uselessly, was open. Not one student had a textbook. They all sat fanning themselves in hopes of relieving themselves from the heat. The teacher, a young white woman of good intentions, stood at the front before a worn-out painted-on green chalkboard utterly defeated in her demeanor. Sweat poured down her face. A student worker appeared at the door and picked up the attendance list. At that moment, about one-third of the students got up and walked out the door. The teacher made no effort to stop them. "How long do you think this young woman will last as a teacher here, Walter Will? Can you not see that she has already given up? She was a Peace Corps teacher in West Africa for two years. She is no stranger to hardship. Why do you think the students here show so little interest in education? They are not stupid." The girl led Walter Will out into the hallway where they paused in front of the glass pane in the doorway to another classroom. Once again they vanished into the reflection.
"Do you recognize this place, Walter Will?" Walter Will did not. It was an Open Door homeless shelter in Houston, Texas. There was hardly room to stand the place was so crowded. "Where do you think all these homeless people come from, Walter Will? Do you really believe that they are here solely because they made what you call bad decisions? Is it possible that some of them are here through no fault of their own?" Walter Will gave his usual response: "If people would just make the effort and work hard, they would do well. These people are here because they didn't do what is necessary to succeed in our society of opportunity for all." The girl looked exasperated. "Do you really believe that, Walter Will?" she asked. A woman with two small children sat a bench. Her tears pooled on the concrete. "There's a reflection in that pool of tears, Walter Will. Let us step through again." The curtain of shimmering silver reappeared.
"You are now in a place that few people see, Walter Will. Come. Let us have a meal with some friends of mine." Walter Will followed the girl to an outdoor dining table. It was covered with fresh white linen. Multiple tea sets covered the table. Plates of tea cakes, cheese, fresh exotic fruits, dark-grain breads, and small bars of chocolate filled the table. The aroma of spiced orange-peel tea filled the air. Walter Will pulled out his wallet and asked how much for the buffet. "Oh, Walter! Do you not understand? You are a guest, here! There is no need to pay. Indeed, it is impossible to pay for anything here. There is no such thing as money here." Now Walter Will was confused. "Just where are we?" Walter Will asked. "This place has many names, Walter Will. Utopia, Shangri-La, Wonderland, Heaven. It is a place where there is only one rule: Be kind. Why must there be a price on everything?" Walter Will did not recognize that this was a moment to keep silent. "Don't you see?" he said. "Prices that float freely up and down are necessary to create the most efficient allocation of resources! Everyone with an ounce of economics education knows that!" The girl was not the least bit disturbed. Quietly she asked, "Just who, Walter Will, is all that efficiency for?" Walter Will made his final mistake. He answered. "That efficiency exists to create the maximum benefit for consumers." The girl continued, "And just who are these consumers, Walter Will?" Walter Will proceeded to dig his own grave: "People with money, of course!"
This time the girl did not seek out a reflection. She reached into a pocket on her dress. The universe went white. There was absolutely nothing but Walter Will and his guide in a sea of endless white. Walter Will's guide now appeared as a young woman clothed in flowing robes of shimmering white. At her side was a sheath holding something with an ornate handle. "You are not dreaming. I'm an angel. And I am angry. Because you are unwilling to see in your world, so shall ye be unable to see in your world." The angel unsheathed a long, heavy, gleaming sword and threw it straight at Walter Will's head. Walter Will stood hypnotized as the sword twirled slowly through the air toward his head. Time seemed to stand still. Then the universe exploded in a flash of blinding colors. Walter Will woke up, but all was not right in the world. Walter Will awoke in blackness. Walter Will was completely, irreversibly, blind.
The End
This story is mostly original, although the influence of Lewis Carroll should be obvious to all. -- Nikki Little