The Real You
Two mid-age۔y womans stand۔d on opposites sides of the Silk Skirt Sale rack in theLady’s Clothes department on the third floor·level of Beststein's -- a popular۔est mega۔store in Wien dur year 2000 -- sift۔ing through colorful selections drape۔d from clotheshang۔ors.
"Good prices for silk," comment۔d in Deutschland۔ese Frieda Swartz, the stout۔er woman as she rummage۔d through the skirts.
Roxanne Lentz, who had been walk۔ing toward Shoes section when she had spotnotice۔d the Silk Skirt Sale sign, look۔d up, notice۔ing clear۔ly for first time the Caucasian woman, Germanic alike most residents in the beautyful historic city in Alp mountains in mega۔peninsula Europe. Although ap Roxanne’s own age (38 years old), the other woman wear۔d a formal skirt and jacket (over a lace۔y white blouse) of expensive red cloth (the exact color of her lipstick), her chestnut-color headhairs roll۔d above her head in honeybeehive style -- indicate۔ing wealth, probable۔ly aristocracy. "And such interest۔y styles," respond۔d Roxanne, tall and slender, with sharp facial features frame۔t by straight brown hairs drape۔ing to her shoulders; that late afternoon she wuz wear۔ing a plain brown dress cinch۔d at her bodywaist with a wide black felt belt. Mental۔ly she calculate۔d how much money she had in her purse.
The store wuz huge, half the size of a football field, with no interior walls, yet divide۔d into departments. Frieda had notice۔d Roxanne when she had walk۔d over, feel۔ing a mixture of admiration and envy of her still-slender shape, although her head·hairs wuz wind-blow۔t and need۔d a trim, and her non۔cover۔t freckles ‘betray۔d’ (Frieda think۔d) a common upbring۔in alike most Osterreichans, not somebody from her own up۔er socialclass. Notice۔ing Roxanne's mild surprise that an apparent۔by wealth۔y woman would be attract۔t by low prices, Frieda respond۔d. "What woman can resist a bargain·sale?"
"So true," agree۔d Roxanne. "I wuz pull۔t over here as though by a magnet."
The womans exchange۔d smiles (Roxanne’s emphasize۔ing her laughlines), then resume۔d examine۔ing the skirts. Roxanne pick۔d out a medium-brown legcalf-length one, although it wuz pleat۔d (simple, wuz more her style), and, on a whim, a red and black one, colors she dint normal۔ly wear. By then Frieda had select۔d a pale۔by green pleat۔y skirt, and had start۔d walk۔ing toward a door·way mark۔d Dress۔in Rooms. Roxanne follow۔d.
Sudden۔ly from elsewhere in the store a woman scream۔d, "Stop, thief! Stop thief!"
Both Frieda and Roxanne stop۔d walk۔ing and look۔d over, past Shoes toward the music section, from where a young man wear۔ing a gray baseball cap over his straw-color headhairs wuz run۔ing toward the stair·way. Tuck۔d under his arm wuz a long black Boom Box (brand name for popular portable forearm-long record۔t music play۔or).
A young clerk, identify۔t by his blue and white uniform, dash۔d over from Shoes and pursue۔d the flee۔ing suspect, repeat۔ing the call: "Stop thief!"
From Mans’ Clothes rush۔d a burly guard۔ort in dark blue uniform, carry۔ing a black billyclub. He waddle۔d as fast as he could, shortcut۔ing through Bras, try۔ing to intercept the thief. But both pursue۔orts wuz too late. The thief disappear۔d around the stair·way corner, on his way two floorlevels down to the boulevard, destine۔d to lose hisself in the sidewalks crowd۔y with late-afternoon commute۔ors.
The two skirt shop۔orms remain۔d stand۔ing, as though await۔ing further excitement. Comment۔d Frieda, “I hope they catch he, put he in prison, and throw away the lockkey.”
"I guess he want۔d it pretty bad۔ly," Roxanne comment۔d as they resume۔d walk۔ing toward Dress۔in Rooms.
"In Wien every white male can find a job." A fact Frieda had read۔d in High Society magazine.
"Obvious۔ly thereiz somethin wrong with he," Roxanne say۔d, not really want۔ing to defend a thief.
"You iz so correct. He iz rot۔y to the core."
"Oh I dont know about that." Roxanne, a psychologor who twice per month volunteer۔d to counsel imprison۔eers at Wien Josefstadt Prison and thus know۔d somethin about some they’s pre-prison lifes, hold۔d a more complicate۔y view.
Frieda, as they near۔d Dress۔in Rooms, feel۔d compel۔d to clarify her viewpoint. "It iz not as if he wuz steal۔ing food, although that would be bad enough. Nobody need a portable music machine."
Roxanne, walk۔ing beside she, feel۔d amuse۔d that the youngstort had want۔d the Boom Box so desperate۔ly as to risk prison, and secret۔ly hope۔d he would escape to enjoy his bounty. Her thoughts wuz betray۔t by a sly smile, notice۔t by Frieda.
They enter۔d, Frieda first, the Dress۔in Rooms area, a hall۔et between rows of cubicles – private room۔ets the size of warm·coat closets with mirrors on walls opposite yellow privacy curtains. Because neither woman intend۔d to try wear۔ing the skirts – hold۔ing they in front of theyselfs in front of a mirror seem۔d adequate, aid۔t by the tag’s bodywaist-size number – both opt۔d to walk far۔er into a rectangular room, bright۔ly illuminate۔t, feature۔ing, on opposite walls, room۔wide floor-to-ceil۔in mirrors; the far end of the room feature۔d a wide white shelf.
Frieda veer۔d leftside۔ward, set۔ing on her end of the shelf her purse and three bundles – she had been shop۔ing ever since her luxuryous though fatten۔y roof۔top lunch with a gossip۔y friend. By then, on opposite side of the room, Roxanne had set۔d down her purse and position۔d the red and black silk skirt against her brown cotton dress, while pivot۔ing in front of the mirror. As suspect۔d, the colors wuz ‘all wrong’.
Frieda, still annoy۔d that anybody, and particular۔ly a peer, could defend such a lowlife as they had witness۔d, feel۔d compel۔d, as she close۔ly examine۔d the green skirt for flaws, not to drop the topic. "Strict۔ly enforce۔d laws iz necessary to keep our un۔civilize۔y impulses in check. I hope the surveillance cameras catch he."
"I guess it depend on how you look at it." Roxanne had wonder۔d brief۔ly what sort of child۔hood he had had, and why he dint have a job to pay for the entertainment device that cost۔d a labor۔or, she guess۔d, a mere three days’ pay. "We can treat they alike wild animals and keep they in iron cages, or we can try to help they reform."
"Excuse me, but itiz not they's problem when they manifest criminal behavior in civilize۔y society; it iz our problem." Frieda as a teenagorm had read۔d philosophy, and she obey۔d her religion's imperatives. A graduate۔or of prestigious University of Wien, she did not consider herself stupid. But her lawyor husband dint consider her mind worth۔y of intellectual conversation, and the servants wuz too ignorant to converse with except about household things. Frieda realize۔d she wuz vent۔ing, but that did no harm and wuz health۔y in a democracy where peoples' average opinions wuz the basis for laws. "Coddle criminals, and more ordinary peoples will commit crimes."
Roxanne, after another exhaust۔y day’s work probe۔ing suffer۔ing peoples' minds in an often futile effort to help they, had not been in the mood for discussion, but ever since her mid-teens her instinct wuz to defend what she believe۔d wuz correct, thus the comment pump۔d adrenaline in to her system. Moreover, the plump rich woman share۔ing the Dress Room hold۔d a perhaps well-intend۔y but in Roxanne's opinion mis۔guide۔y view wide۔ly share۔d in capital·city Wien, throughout nation Osterreich, and in most of Europe (she dint know about elsewhere), thus she dint shrink from an opportunity to polite۔ly but forceful۔ly refute it. "You talk as though, if we dint have laws and police, if we let peoples go they's own way non-impede۔t, they would..." She search۔d for non-critical words for negative behavior.
"Steal," Frieda finish۔d her wordsentence. "And worse. Far worse, if you know what I mean."
Roxanne did: rape and murder.
"In the absence of social conscience," continue۔d Frieda, "which common۔ors rare۔ly have in sufficient amount, only strict۔ly enforce۔d laws can keep animal۔alike selfish instincts in check." That, Frieda know۔d to be a fact. She, although birth۔d into a rich family of land-own۔ors, had fake۔d love to marry wealth, and present۔ly lust۔d for a handsome brown-mustache۔y moneybank officor. The only things that prevent۔d she from the thrill of snatch۔ing a skirt or two from the store wuz social and legal consequences of being catch۔t. With her husband, she collaborate۔d on cheat۔ing the government of part of it’s owedue tax. To they’s servants they pay۔d the minimum possible; lapses in service (a dust spot on a table, animalmeat·slices cook۔d too long, her instinct wuz to loud۔ly scold, shout, even job·terminate, and only with difficult۔y did she restrain her tongue. Consider۔ing that she had become۔d quite fond of her husband, and that she almost certain۔ly would not allow an extra-marital affair to proceed further than her daydreams, she consider۔d her transgressions, in scope, normal. To soften the dialog, she hold۔d up the green skirt in front of she, look۔d into the mirror reflection, then back at Roxanne, ask۔ing, "What do you think?"
“Itiz you,” respond۔d Roxanne warm۔ly, glad for the emotional bridge. She herself had in her entire life rare۔ly think۔d a thought harmful to anybody, and when she did – alike the time she almost slap۔d her naughty kitten – she analyze۔d it to determine it’s cause. Want۔ing to convey her view, she continue۔d. "He wuz once an innocent good little boy, and then somethin happen۔d. Maybe father۔less, too poor in too rich a city, or suffer۔ing a mental problem -- who know?"
"Lazy. Un۔honest. A thief. Distort۔y values. Small wonder he cant get a job." It occasion۔ly amaze۔d Frieda that Osterreich's socald liberals could take a matter so simple and so complicate it. ‘Bleed۔ing hearts', mean۔ing excessive۔by sympathetic, wuz conservatives' word for they.
"But iz those causes, or symptoms?" Roxanne ask۔d, polite۔ly as though rhetoric۔ly. Before circumstances take they's toll, we iz all God’s childs."
"Iiz glad you mention۔d religion," Frieda say۔d, also grateful that the titfortat dialog wuz congenial. "Christianity iz quite clear on the matter: we iz birth۔d sin۔ors. Our task iz to strive to be good, thus after death we will go to heaven, avoid۔ing eternal hell. The Christian threat of torturous eternal after·life reinforce threats of social ostracism and legal punishment -- to discourage we all from do۔ing wrong."
Roxanne dint answer immediate۔ly. Alike almost all Osterreichans, and most Europens, she had been raise۔d a Christian, peoples' most popular religion, with ap two-billions adherents Earth planet-around. But alike an increase۔ing minority of university-educate۔t peoples of her age and young۔er, while not refute۔ing Christianity, she since her early twentys had been search۔ing for somethin more -- main۔ly by read۔ing varyous socald spiritual books, regard۔less of what or any religious affiliation. With that multiple influence, along with her train۔in as a psychologor, she forge۔d an ever-evolve۔ing view. "From my deal۔ins with childs, I have not encounter۔d a single one who iz fundamental۔by bad. Those who elicit bad behavior iz react۔ing to un۔proper upbring۔in – usual۔ly parental neglect. Bad iz not normal."
"If you dont trust our religion, trust our great۔est think۔ort." Frieda refer۔d to Sigmund Freud, an Osterreich native, world-famous as the father of psychoanalysis, whose theorys more than a century and a half later still much۔ly influence۔d the field of psychology. "Freud, as you know, insist۔d that peoples' nature iz laden۔d with violence and repression. Our worse instincts iz normal, although overlay۔t with better instincts such as love and peaceful۔ness, but never to be escape۔t, always lurk۔ing in the background ready to assume control. Freud lay۔d down as law that human nature contain۔d hidden tendencys that break out alike cage۔t monstors to overwhelm we, tendencys always present, although thankful۔ly usual۔ly beneath the surface."
"Roxanne nod۔d, not want۔ing to nitpick. "On the other hand, Bharat۔y religions Hinduism and Buddhism, forex, believe that the unconscious, rather than the dark murk۔y region of evil conceptualize۔t by Freud, iz god۔y." After that sink۔d in she continue۔d. "Repress۔ing our basic nature actual۔ly cause we to act bad۔ly."
"That iz dangerous think۔ing." Frieda's firm reaction. "The moment police stop enforce۔ing laws, civilize۔y behavior would become a thing of the past."
"At this stage, sure, we need enforce۔t laws," agree۔d Roxanne. "Meanwhile, we psychologors strive to discover what cause people to commit acts that cause they and others un۔happy۔ness."
"You iz say۔ing, fix all the circumstances that cause peoples to act bad۔ly, and everybody will be good?"
Roxanne nod۔d yes, add۔ing, "Dur a future era, that could happen." She wuz look۔ing at herself while hold۔ing the pleat۔d brown dress against her hips. Pleats wuz fancy۔er than she normal۔ly like۔d, but for a dressy event, such as dinner and theater with her husband, she decide۔d she could push the limit of her simplicity preference -- enough justification to take advantage of such a low price.
"Purchase it," wuz Frieda's advice, regret۔ing eat۔ing that second slice of cheese·cake.
Roxanne nod۔d in agreement.
Frieda put۔d her finger to her chin, as her mind seek۔d a summary to her arguement. "Peoples iz fundamental۔by evil."
Roxanne shake۔d her head side to side emphatic۔ly no. "Peoples iz at root angelic."
Without warn۔ing Frieda reach۔d one hand to the top of her forehead, dig۔d her fingershells into her scalp at her headhairs line above her forehead, and with a slow skinpeel۔ing motion pull۔d the outer surface of her forehead down۔ward as though it wuz, instead of a thick layer of skin, a stick۔y rubber mask. Beneath it, rather than blood۔y flesh expect۔d on the under۔side of skin, wuz slow۔ly reveal۔t, as Frieda pull۔d her face mask far۔er down۔ward, another face: with skin notice۔ably dark۔er, lack۔ing powder, lipstick۔less, reveal۔ing a blemish on her central forehead, and, around her flat۔ish nose, a tiny scare from a child۔hood mishap.. Skin sag۔ing below both eyes testify۔d to her secret booze drink۔ing. But, as Frieda yank۔d the high society mast past her chin, what strike۔d Roxanne wuz not the lack of beauty treatment but the new face’s expression of ruth۔less greed. Frieda pull۔d her mask all the way down to her neck, and toss۔d it beside her purse on the shelf.
Roxanne lookstare۔d, mouth open with astonishment. Frieda's face leer۔d at she alike some evil lunatic in a horror movy. Lust shine۔d in her eyes, along with envy. Her up۔er lip wuz slight۔ly raise۔d in a seem۔۔y permanent snarl of self-contempt. Sudden۔ly her brown eyes dart۔d furtive۔ly, as though reflect۔ing some sinister secret thought. Her mouth-ends, down۔ward turn۔d from a blatant mixture of avarice and disappointment -- non۔expect۔ly flap۔d, as though spew۔ing a silent but malicious threat.
Frieda glance۔d at herself in the mirror, as if confirm۔ing her appearance, then turn۔d to her horrify۔t acquaintance. "See? Without cosmetics, without dignify۔d speech, I iz bad. Selfish, greed۔y, connive۔y. She look۔d back at her face. “False۔ly pious. Cynical, with false friends.” She lookstare۔d in the mirror beyond Roxanne. “Have a good look -- itiz all glare۔by there.”
Roxanne, stand۔ing on her side of the room face۔ing Frieda, had not previous۔ly notice۔d the cynicism, but see۔d it clear۔ly in the slight pucker of the lips and in her brown eyes, emphasize۔t by a slight squint, a subtle but non۔ambiguous `I know more then you think I know' expression. The psychologorm, from professional habit, suspect۔d that the un۔attractive characteristic wuz a direct reaction to her parents and her husband’s and her society’s prevent۔ing she from develop۔ing natural۔ly, instead force۔ing she into a mold. A problem especial۔ly strong, from Roxanne’s counsel۔in experience, among the wealth۔y.
"I iz always polite to my servants, but I hate they (and they hate me). I iz charm۔y to my husband, who utilize me for sex, social appearances, and house management, but I irritate he. My friends iz the wifes of my husband's social step۔in stones." Dis۔mask۔d, she wuz nolonger social۔ly restrain۔t; even her high-Deutschland۔ese languageaccent sound۔d more common. "The face that you now see iz the real me."
To Roxanne the wicked face certain۔ly seem۔d more real than the powder۔t lipstick۔t one that lay۔d crumple۔d on the shelf alike a discard۔t item of clothe۔in.
Frieda think۔d back on they's early۔er debate. "Thatiz how I know that at the core, some -- maybe all -- peoples iz nasty, bad. Because, underneath, I iz that way."
“Society make۔d you that way.” Roxanne's gutreaction remark, speak۔d with authority.
The self۔loathe۔y on Frieda's face reform۔d to a quizzical expression, which both womans notice۔d.
Roxanne's professional mind rise۔d to the occasion. "We iz look۔ing at your subconscious opinion of your self. Whether a true image or invent۔t by your mind, it wuz create۔t dur your upbring۔in, and reinforce۔t by society.”
"How so?"
"From all the garbage instill۔d into your head when you wuz a girl, and the non۔end۔y social pressures you must still conform to." Roxanne had counsel۔d several patients from Wien's up۔er socialclass.
Frieda nod۔d, agree۔ing. Although she wuz head of the household, include۔ing the huge tree۔y yard and three servants, her almost every act wuz within strict guidelines: she could choose when to awake and to bed (subject to the time۔in of her husband) within a narrow band of time; her two teenage sons wuz take۔t from her each mornin and send۔t off to learn what the Osterreich government require۔d they to learn, within a narrow band of electives; her choices of friends wuz limit۔t to womans in her socialclass whose husbands wuz connect۔d to her husband; if she want۔d a job, only church charity work wuz consider۔t accept۔able. But with her societal mask crumple۔d on the dress۔in room shelf, wear۔ing her horrible face, she feel۔d sudden۔ly free to think her own thoughts. She would rather have reside۔d in an apartment near Raimund Theater, which host۔d musicals, than be responsible for maintain۔ing a 12-rooms house, a hill۔side lawn, a maid, a cook, and a garden۔ort-drive۔ort, so that when her husband come۔d home everythin would be perfect – a fulltime job. If she had her wish, which wuz so farfetchd that except once to her father's mother she dint dare express it, she would have like۔d to have pursue۔d a doctorate in philosophy -- dub۔t by her grandmother a "frivolous activity, especial۔ly for a woman, youwill grow out of", add۔ing that by the time she would have graduate۔d, she would maybe have miss۔d her opportunity to marry a wealth۔y aristocrat, which her family expect۔d. Un۔obey۔ing would have result۔d in parental fury, probable۔ly dis۔inheritance, possible۔ly family ostracism. "Pressures, yes. Because I iz rich."
"Relative wealth iz not direct۔ly relate۔d to moral choice," respond۔d Roxanne a bit non۔certain۔ly. "But, general۔ly, relative to the norm, atleast here in Europe and probable۔ly everywhere, peoples birth۔d into wealth۔y familys tend to have more crap lay۔t on they as kids, and as adults iz more close۔ly watch۔t to conform to they's family's comparative۔by strict guidelines.”
"I iz certain۔ly carry۔ing muh baggage," Frieda admit۔d, as though medpatient to psychologor. "And my life consist main۔ly of do۔ing what I should."
Both woman wuz still lookstare۔ing at Frieda's face, as Roxanne speak۔d. "The evil-appear۔y woman that we iz look۔ing at iz a stark view at what society have do۔d to you. But it could not possible۔ly be the real you, because underneath society's influence, you iz, and have been since you wuz birth۔t, pure good."
Frieda's mouth pucker۔d and her forehead form۔d a frown, in a look of non۔disguise۔t cynicism.
“Everybody iz good underneath." Certainty resonate۔d in Roxanne's statement, as she reach۔d her hand up to her own forehead, slight۔by below her hairs line, dig۔d her fingershells into her scalp, and peel۔d down her own face. Beneath it, emerge۔ing from top of forehead down۔ward, wuz a complexion identical to the one being strip۔t away, even with freckles. But her blue eyes, nolonger only benevolent, radiate۔d with such intense love that Frieda non۔voluntary۔ly raise۔d both hands to block she from her sight. By the time Roxanne had strip۔d her mask off and fling۔d it on her shelf, her face wuz glow۔ing with radiance that seem۔d to Frieda to fill with room with thick warm bliss. Surround۔t by a purple۔ish lavender aura, clear۔ly the face of an angel.
‘See?’ Roxanne convey۔d with a love۔y smile.
Frieda's face, reveal۔d between her finger of both hands try۔ing to hide it, throb۔d with envy. Then her hands drop۔d and her expression tighten۔d, as her eyes glow۔d with hateful violence. "But beneath your angelic appearance, what iz really hide۔t?"
With those words she step۔d bold۔ly toward the startle۔t Roxanne, grab۔d her forehead slight۔by below her hairs line, and dig۔d her fingershells into Roxanne scalp try۔ing to pull off the angelic mask.
Roxanne squeal۔d with pain.
Frieda, find۔ing no hold to pull off the mask, release۔d her grip and lookstare۔d with puzzlement.
"Take a good look," offer۔d Roxanne, re۔gain۔ing her composure. "You۔iz look۔ing at the real me, before I too wuz subject۔t to society's ignorant ways -- obvious۔ly not to the extent you wuz."
Frieda back۔d away. The warm benevolent feel۔in, which she had strive۔d so hard against while when she commit۔ing her violent act, overwhelm۔d she. Final۔ly she sigh۔d. "That prove youiz good, not that I iz good."
That wuz when Roxanne calm۔ly step۔d forward, reach۔d up to the top of Frieda's horrid forehead, find۔d a grip hold, and pull۔d away her evil mask, to reveal the love۔y face of another angel, frame۔t ridiculous۔ly by her artificial honeybeehive hairs۔style and stiff clothes, but clear۔ly glow۔ing with good۔ness.
See۔ing herself thus transform۔t in the mirror, lookstare۔ing at the fact that, at root, she wuz not horrible۔by bad but overwhelm۔by good, Frieda laugh۔d with happy relief, then turn۔d and embrace۔d Roxanne.
“We iz look۔ing,” Roxanne comment۔d, “at the real you.”
Foot·steps sound۔d in the dress۔in room hall۔et.
"Somebody iz come۔ing!" whisper۔d Frieda nervous۔ly.
Both womans quick۔ly pivot۔d to they's shelfs, snatch۔d up they's original masks and with quick motions smooth۔d they back on.
Whoever had enter۔d the hall had opt۔d to step into one of the dress۔in cubicles, allow۔ing Frida and Roxanne time to be sure they's societal masks fit۔d snug۔ly, and to brush they's headhairs (Frieda lend۔d Roxanne her brush), before walk۔ing, silk skirts fold۔d over arms, back into Ladys’ Clothes, past Shoes, toward the cashor.
* * *