h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

http://www.bbc.co.uk/H2G2/guide/A163452

This is a the last piece before getting back to the serious business of teaching for a living. The holidays were great but now's the time for work. The basic story is not original. I read a short article in a teaching book(I can't remember which one) and it stayed with me. I've now expanded it into a dialogue.

The bed by the window.


Two men shared a big room on the fourth floor of an old people's home in the city centre. Both men were very old and very ill and had been abandoned by their families. The room was little more than four walls as there was no furniture, no television, no radio, just two beds situated opposite each other. One man's bed was by a window, a very small window, through which he could look out, but the other man could see nothing, not even the sky, from his bed where he was lying motionless on his back.


The man by the window was very kind and every day he spent hours telling his friend about things that were happening in the street outside. He told him about the cars going by, the children playing in a park opposite, the changing seasons and their changing colours, how the birds had begun to build their nests, when they were hatching their eggs and the little ones were learning to fly. He told of how the people were hurrying to work during the week with their eyes cast down and their faces tense and drawn, and of how these same people would be strolling casually at the weekend and the street would be full of laughter. He made every effort to share his observations with his room-mate and keep him in touch with life and reinforce his will to live.


The old man by the inside wall began by having a lot of enjoyment listening to his companion recount all that was happening. He was happy to be in tune with life outside of their room. However as time went by his enjoyment began to be tinged with resentment that he was always the receiver and never the giver of news. He was already dependent on the nursing staff for all his needs and bitterness began to swell inside him against the man whose words had created this new dependence.


The resentment led to an obsession to have the bed by the window and see everything for himself. One day when his partner was telling him about two children playing ball in the park he suddenly interrupted him and in a brusque voice said,
"Why don't you let me see for myself?"
His friend gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments and then said tenderly,
"But you know that you are unable to leave your bed."
"We could exchange beds, the nurse wouldn't mind."
"But you are unable to raise your head to look out at the things that are happening and I am happy to tell you about them. It's not an obligation for me but a pleasure"
"I'll manage somehow. Just let me try. If it doesn't work I'll change back straight away."
"I don't think that would be a good idea, we would both lose something irreplaceable."
"What do you mean irreplaceable? I wouldn't occupy the bed in permanence like you, we could share, one week for you, the next for me."
"I'm sorry you just don't understand but it simply isn't possible."



"You've been lying in that bed ever since we arrived here and you've had that window to look through every day while I have passed the time looking at the ceiling...and you think that's fair?"
"I never said it was fair, it's just that it has to be."
"Very well, if that's your attitude, keep your window for yourself but stop speaking to me. I'm fed up listening to you talking on and on and on about the stupid things you see out there."

The man by the window was very upset. He had lost a friend, and more than that, he had lost the sole thing that was giving him a reason for living. He knew that the rest of what life was left to him was to be spent in that hospital room and he wanted to have the illusion of normality by talking about everyday happenings on the outside. There was nothing he could do about it.

That night, in the early hours, he woke with a strange tight feeling in his chest. He became very frightened and wanted to have the nurse come and see him. The problem was that the bell was beside the bed of his companion and he was afraid to wake him up because of the resentment that had poured out from him earlier in the day. So he decided to suffer on in silence. The pain did not go away and in fact became so intense that he could hardly breathe. He could hold back no longer,

"Wake up, oh please wake up, I think I'm dying. Press the bell, press the bell."

The man in the other bed was in fact wide awake. He had been unable to sleep because of the torment in his mind over the other's refusal to make the exchange. He had heard everything but did nothing to help. He simply closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands so that he wouldn't hear the cries for help.

The nurse the following morning was very distressed to find the man lying dead on the floor by his bed where he had attempted to crawl across the room.
"Did he not cry for help," she asked the other man.
"I was sleeping, I heard nothing." came the reply in monotone.

One week later, when he felt he could ask without appearing to be too eager, he said casually to the nurse,
"Perhaps it would be a good idea for me to change beds for a while, I miss my friend and would feel a bit closer to him if I was in his bed."
"Very well, if you want, I'll get some help to lift you over."
The man could barely contain his excitement as he was being transferred to the the other bed and as he was being lowered onto the mattress he glanced furtively out of the window.


His eyes widened, his mouth hung open and his face turned pale as he saw, not a busy street, not a green park, but a dirty grey wall and nothing else.
"But, but... there is nothing to see!"
"Exactly, we all knew that but your friend made us promise never to disillusion you. Now you know what a good friend you had."

Hi again

Not sure what to say about this one, someone emailed a version of it to me recently, and I like both versions. So I am writing this here as an echo from the bottom of the well.

It lacks some of the stylistic grace of the other things you have written, but it IS a good idea.

All the best

B

Hello again Ben,
Thanks for your comment. Very perceptive. It was written with the idea of later cutting it into parts and giving them to groups of students to be read and handed back to me. They then had to try to put the story together. Not easy as they confused the two men, but it was good fun.
Hope you connected with 'spouseclub'. I took the liberty of sending you an e-mail as I'm not too gifted with posting.
à bientot,
Gaston

Hi Gaston, Bonne année!

So you give this to your students, eh? No comment!

I like it. Aesop springs to mind. I think that's comment enough.

Hey Ben, howyadoin'? Happy New Year! Viele Glueckwunsche, or summat like that!

Seeya
Spiff

Editorial Note: This conversation has been moved from 'The Alternative Writing Workshop' to 'Who am I?'.

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