The Winner Stands Alone

"I'm not saying you should abandon what you're doing," said the psychiatrist, as if he'd read his thoughts. "I'm simply suggesting that you use work as a source of happiness and not as a compulsion."

"Yes, I can do that."

"And what would be your main motive for doing so? All workaholics think they're happy doing what they're doing, and none of their friends, who are in the same position, will see why they should seek help."

Igor lowered his eyes.

"Shall I tell you what your main motive is? As I said before, you're destroying your family."

"No, it's worse than that. My wife is starting to show the same symptoms. She's been distancing herself from me ever since a trip we made to Lake Baikal. And if there's anyone in the world I would be capable of killing again for..."

Igor realized he'd said too much, but the psychiatrist seemed entirely unmoved.

"If there's anyone in the world for whom I would do anything, absolutely anything, that person is my wife."

The psychiatrist summoned his assistant and asked her to make a series of appointments. He didn't consult his patient to see if he would be available on those dates; it was part of the treatment to make it quite clear that any other commitment, however important, could be postponed.

"May I ask a question?"

The psychiatrist nodded.

"Couldn't overwork also be considered rather noble? A proof of my deep respect for the opportunities God has given me in this life? A way of putting society to rights, even if sometimes I have to use methods that are a little..."

Silence.

"A little what?"

"Oh, nothing."

Igor left the consulting room feeling both confused and relieved. Perhaps the psychiatrist had failed to understand the essence of what he did. Life has its reasons. We are all of us linked, and often it's necessary to cut out the malignant tumors so that the rest of the body can remain healthy. People are locked up in their selfish little worlds; they make plans that don't include their fellow man; they believe the planet is simply land to be exploited; they follow their instincts and desires and care nothing for the collective well-being of society.

He wasn't destroying his family, he simply wanted to leave the world a better place for the children he dreamed of having, a world without drugs or wars or people trafficking, a world in which love would be the great force uniting all couples, peoples, nations, and religions. Ewa would understand this, even if their marriage was currently going through a crisis, a crisis doubtless sent by the Evil One.

The following day, he asked his secretary to cancel all subsequent appointments with the psychiatrist; he had more important things to do. He was drawing up a great plan to purify the world, a plan for which he would need help; indeed, he'd already contacted a group prepared to work with him.

Two months later, the wife he loved left him--because of the Evil that had possessed her, because he hadn't been able to understand her feelings.

THE SOUND OF A CHAIR being shifted returns him to the reality of Cannes. Before him sits a woman holding a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She's well-dressed but visibly drunk.

"May I sit here? All the other tables are occupied."

"You already are sitting here."

"It's just not possible," says the woman, as if she'd known him for years. "It's simply not possible. The police made me leave the hospital. And the man for whose sake I traveled by train for almost a whole day, for whom I rented a hotel room at twice the normal price, is now hovering between life and death. Damn!"

Is she from the police? Or does what she's saying have nothing to do with what he thinks it does?

"Anyway, what are you doing here, if you don't mind my asking? Aren't you hot? Wouldn't you be cooler without your jacket on, or are you trying to impress everyone with your elegance?"

As usual, people choose their own destiny, and this woman is doing just that.

"I always wear a jacket regardless of the temperature. Are you an actress?"

The woman gives an almost hysterical laugh.

"Yes, let's say I'm an actress, yes I am. I'm playing the part of someone who has had the same dream since she was an adolescent, has grown

up with it, battled seven miserable years of her life to make it a reality, who's mortgaged her house, worked ceaselessly..."