Robert Sheckley - The Same to You Doubled

In New York, it never fails, the doorbell rings just when youve plopped down onto the couch for a well-deserved snooze. Now, a person of character would say, To hell with that, a mans home is his castle and they can slide any telegrams under the door. But if youre like Edelstein, not particularly strong on character, then you think to yourself that maybe its the blonde from 12C who has come up to borrow a jar of chili powder. Or it could even be some crazy film producer who wants to make a movie based on the letters youve been sending your mother in Santa Monica. (And why not; dont they make movies out of worse material than that?)

Yet this time, Edelstein had really decided not to answer the bell. Lying on the couch, his eyes still closed, he called out, I dont want any.

Yes you do, a voice from the other side of the door replied.

Ive got all the encyclopedias, brushes, and waterless cookery I need, Edelstein called back wearily. Whatever youve got, Ive got it already.

Look, the voice said, Im not selling anything. I want to give you something.

Edelstein smiled the thin, sour smile of the New Yorker who knows that if someone made him a gift of a package of genuine, unmarked $20 bills, hed still somehow end up having to pay for it.

If its free, Edelstein answered, then I definitely cant afford it.

But I mean really free, the voice said. I mean free that it wont cost you anything now or ever.

Im not interested, Edelstein replied, admiring his firmness of character.

The voice did not answer.

Edelstein called out, Hey, if youre still there, please go away.

My dear Mr. Edelstein, the voice said, cynicism is merely a form of navete. Mr. Edelstein, wisdom is discrimination.

He gives me lectures now, Edelstein said to the wall.

All right, the voice said, forget the whole thing, keep your cynicism and your racial prejudice; do I need this kind of trouble?

Just a minute, Edelstein answered. What makes you think Im prejudiced?

Lets not crap around, the voice said. If I was raising funds for Hadassah or selling Israel bonds, it would have been different. But, obviously, I am what I am, so excuse me for living.

Not so fast, Edelstein said. As far as Im concerned, youre just a voice from the other side of the door. For all I know, you could be Catholic or Seventh-Day Adventist or even Jewish.

You knew, the voice responded.

Mister, I swear to you

Look, the voice said, it doesnt matter, I come up against a lot of this kind of thing. Good-bye, Mr. Edelstein.

Just a minute, Edelstein replied.

He cursed himself for a fool. How often had he fallen for some hucksters line, ending up, for example, paying $9.98 for an illustrated two-volume Sexual History of Mankind, which his friend Manowitz had pointed out he could have bought in any Marboro bookstore for $2.98?

But the voice was right. Edelstein had somehow known that he was dealing with a goy.

And the voice would go away thinking, The Jews, they think theyre better than anyone else. Further, he would tell this to his bigoted friends at the next meeting of the Elks or the Knights of Columbus, and there it would be, another black eye for the Jews.

I do have a weak character, Edelstein thought sadly.

He called out, All right! You can come in! But I warn you from the start, I am not going to buy anything.

He pulled himself to his feet and started toward the door. Then he stopped, for the voice had replied, Thank you very much, and then a man had walked through the closed, double-locked wooden door.

The man was of medium height, nicely dressed in a gray pinstripe modified Edwardian suit. His cordovan boots were highly polished. He was black, carried a briefcase, and he had stepped through Edelsteins door as if it had been made of Jell-O.

Just a minute, stop, hold on one minute, Edelstein said. He found that he was clasping both of his hands together and his heart was beating unpleasantly fast.

The man stood perfectly still and at his ease, one yard within the apartment. Edelstein started to breathe again. He said, Sorry, I just had a brief attack, a kind of hallucination

Want to see me do it again? the man asked.

My God, no! So you did walk through the door! Oh, God, I think Im in trouble.

Edelstein went back to the couch and sat down heavily. The man sat down in a nearby chair.

What is this all about? Edelstein whispered.

I do the door thing to save time, the man said. It usually closes the credulity gap. My name is Charles Sitwell. I am a field man for the Devil.

Edelstein believed him. He tried to think of a prayer, but all he could remember was the one he used to say over bread in the summer camp he had attended when he was a boy. It probably wouldnt help. He also knew the Lords Prayer, but that wasnt even his religion. Perhaps the salute to the flag

Dont get all worked up, Sitwell said. Im not here after your soul or any old-fashioned crap like that.

How can I believe you? Edelstein asked.

Figure it out for yourself, Sitwell told him. Consider only the war aspect. Nothing but rebellions and revolutions for the past fifty years or so. For us, that means an unprecedented supply of condemned Americans, Viet Cong, Nigerians, Biafrans. Indonesians, South Africans, Russians, Indians, Pakistanis, and Arabs. Israelis, too, Im sorry to tell you. Also, were pulling in more Chinese than usual, and just recently, weve begun to get plenty of action on the South American market. Speaking frankly, Mr. Edelstein, were overloaded with souls. If another war starts this year, well have to declare an amnesty on venial sins.

Edelstein thought it over. Then youre really not here to take me to hell?

Hell, no! Sitwell said. I told you, our waiting list is longer than for Peter Cooper Village; we hardly have any room left in limbo.

Well Then why are you here?

Sitwell crossed his legs and leaned forward earnestly. Mr. Edelstein, you have to understand that hell is very much like U.S. Steel or ITT. Were a big outfit and were more or less a monopoly. But, like any really big corporation, we are imbued with the ideal of public service and we like to be well thought of.

Makes sense, Edelstein said.

But, unlike Ford, we cant very well establish a foundation and start giving out scholarships and work grants. People wouldnt understand. For the same reason, we cant start building model cities or fighting pollution. We cant even throw up a dam in Afghanistan without someone questioning our motives.

I see where it could be a problem, Edelstein admitted.

Yet we like to do something. So, from time to time, but especially now, with business so good, we like to distribute a small bonus to a random selection of potential customers.

Customer? Me?

No one is calling you a sinner, Sitwell pointed out. I said potentialwhich means everybody.

Oh What kind of bonus?

Three wishes, Sitwell said briskly. Thats the traditional form.

Let me see if Ive got this straight, Edelstein said. I can have any three wishes I want? With no penalty, no secret ifs and buts?

There is one but, Sitwell said.

I knew it, Edelstein said.

Its simple enough. Whatever you wish for, your worst enemy gets double.

Edelstein thought about that. So if I asked for a million dollars

Your worst enemy would get two million dollars.

And if I asked for pneumonia?

Your worst enemy would get double pneumonia.

Edelstein pursed his lips and shook his head. Look, not that I mean to tell you people how to run your business, but I hope you realize that you endanger customer goodwill with a clause like that.

Its a risk, Mr. Edelstein, but absolutely necessary on a couple of counts, Sitwell said. You see, the clause is a psychic feedback device that acts to maintain homeostasis.