“I’m saying, Doug, that the world is a nightmare of injustice if there isn’t reincarnation.”
“What do you—?”
This time Bob interrupted. “A man lives his entire life doing harm to others. He cheats, he lies, he corrupts, he may even kill or have people killed. Then he dies in his mansion bed surrounded by his loving family. Is that justice?”
“Who said it was?” Doug answered.
“Then life is meaningless?” Bob replied, his voice on edge now. “A baby gets hit by a truck and killed. Is that justice? Government leaders oversee massacres. Is that justice? They start wars, they abuse their population, they create havoc because they’re greedy and cruel and never have to pay for it. Is that justice? So many criminals never have to pay the price for their crimes. So many people pay a price for crimes they didn’t commit. Is that justice? Does equity exist at all? Well, not a hell of a lot if all these crimes go unpaid for, unpunished. That’s why I believe in reincarnation. So justice can exist. If not in this life then in the life to come. Or the lives to come.”
Doug stared at him in silence. Finally, he said, “Jesus, pass the basket, preacher.”
Bob chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, “I get carried away sometimes.”
“I never heard you do it before,” Doug said. “So this is—what?—your philosophy of life?”
“I have a double-edged philosophy,” Bob told him. “I’m almost completely cynical about what goes on at this level.”
“This level,” Doug repeated.
“Life,” Bob said. “I don’t see very much that’s positive in it. Schools closing. Teachers undervalued, underpaid. Child care limited or nonexistent. Homeless people mounting in number every year. The wealthy growing wealthier. The poor growing poorer. Drug sales rising. Violence in the streets. Corruption in politics, in business, in law-keeping. Military spending higher all the time. The infrastructure left to collapse—roads, highways, bridges, airports, sewers, water systems. Air pollution. Mass destruction of the environment. International chaos. Endless wars. That’s how I see the world and my philosophy regarding it is a bleak one, a very nearly hopeless one.”
“And—?” Doug sounded almost intrigued now.
“And, the other side of my philosophy is that I believe in ultimate justice. No matter how cruel or brutal or greedy or stupid things are on this level, there’s a higher level on which justice is inevitable, restitution inescapable.”
“For all of us,” Doug said.
“Well, sure for all of us,” Bob answered. “What kind of system would it be if it didn’t apply to all of us.”
“How does it apply?” Doug demanded.
“I don’t know exactly how. But—” he added quickly to cut off Doug’s interrupting response, “I think that, when we die—”
“Pass on, you mean,” Doug broke in, smirking.
“Right. Pass on. When we do, we carry with us a packet of negatives and positives, how much of each depending on the life we’ve led. This packet provides the blueprint for our next life. Our long-range task is to eliminate all the negatives and clear up the packet altogether.”
“And that’s it, huh?” Doug said.
“Pretty much,” Bob answered. “Nothing is lost. We pay the price—or enjoy the reward—for everything we do in life. Not in afterlife, I don’t believe that. In our next life, though.”
“How? How would you know you were paying the price or getting the reward?” Doug was barely containing his scorn.
“I have no idea,” Bob said. “It would all take place behind the scenes.”
“Behind the scenes? That’s bullshit!” Doug snapped. “A big cop-out. You don’t have to prove anything. It’s all ‘behind the scenes.’ Well, bullshit, Bobby, bullshit! Your philosophy is pure bullshit!”
Bob sighed. “I don’t think so,” he said.
“All right, tell me this,” Doug said, “if God is so damn great, how come He allows so much misery in the world? Hanh?”
“Why does almost everyone assume that God created the world to be permanently wonderful?” Bob asked. “What if He created it as a place to grow in, to become responsible in? I don’t believe God has anything at all to do with the misery in the world. Man caused it, not God. Saint Augustine said that the root of all evil lies neither in Satan nor in God; it lies in man.”
Doug stared at him in silence for a while. Then he said, “And everything happens for a reason.”
“I believe that.”
“So there are no such things as accidents,” Doug said.
“I believe that too.”
“And everything works out in the end.”
“I think so, yes,” Bob answered. “In the long run, cause and effect become clear, justice prevails.”
“So Artie really died because of something wrong he did in his last life, is that it?” Doug said.
Oh, Christ, Bob thought. Is that all this signified to Doug? Some way to take the blame off himself for his son’s suicide.
“I don’t know, Doug,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how the details of reincarnation work, I told you that. I just know I believe in it.”
“Then you have no idea whether Artie fucked up in his last life—maybe killed somebody so that’s why he had to kill himself in this life.”
“No.” Bob looked at him, astounded. “How could I possibly know that?”
“But it could be, right?” Doug challenged. “And my life is a fucking mess because of something I did wrong in my last life?”
“Doug, you’re asking me impossible questions,” Bob told him.
“So all these fucking beliefs you have add up to nothing, don’t they?” Doug said. “You don’t even know if what goes wrong in this life happens because of something we did wrong in our last life.”
“Doug, we do things wrong in this life too,” Bob said, knowing, in the instant he said it, that it was a mistake.
“So I fucked up my life this time around too.” Doug almost snarled the words.
“Doug, we all make mistakes. We’re human,” Bob said.
“Oh, no.” Doug shook his head, a look of pseudosympathy on his face. “Not you. You’re fucking perfect. Everything works out for you. Your marriage. Your career. Your kids. All perfect. Perfect!”
“Doug, let’s drop this. Please,” Bob said.
“No, no, let’s examine all the facts in your perfect life.”
“Doug—”
“First off, you’re a successful short-story writer. Then you’re a successful novelist—”
“Doug, please.”
“Then a successful movie writer, a successful television writer. Then a successful husband, a successful father, a successful citizen in every way.”
Bob sighed heavily. Was this ever going to end?
“Now you’re a successful philosopher,” Doug went on, his voice tight, embittered. “You have this wonderful successful philosophy of life. You have all the answers, all the fucking answers in the world.”
“I don’t,” Bob told him wearily. “I’m just trying to get a handle on—”
“A handle?” Doug said angrily. “Is that what your philosophy of life is, something you can get a handle on?”
“Come on, Doug,” Bob responded. “Stop jumping on every damn word I use. Try to understand what I’m saying. Try—”
“Now I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Doug broke in.
“Doug, I’m not saying that,” Bob told him. “I just—”
“Too bad I’m not as religious as you are so I could understand,” Doug interrupted again.