FROM ANOTHER SIDE A Saul Vogel Mystery

Peter Billig
FROM ANOTHER SIDE
A Saul Vogel Mystery

Domicile is well hidden in the woods, poor times, though, found their way here: Vogel was moaning in his sleep and was down in the dumps during the waking hours. Every time a new invoice came, he would swear aloud. At last, he muttered something about shaving my wages off, as (quote) one can’t make something out of nothing (unquote). I let it pass but he began to talk about selling his beloved Porsche – and suddenly he was ashamed of his defeatism:
“You’re right,” he said, although I had not uttered a word. “A wise man should not grumble but make the nothing become a something!”
He got excited and I knew that even though he won’t find a new source of income at once, he will be pointing his resourceful mind in that direction.
His newfound optimism stayed overnight (no moaning) and throughout the morning, even though the mail brought a sizable bill for the maintenance of his much-loved vehicle. He did not utter a single profanity but knit his brow and addressed me at breakfast:
“All through the night dreams were repeating one scene only: a guy is telling me something important through a glass door but I can’t hear him. I try to open – it is locked. I punch codes in but can’t get the right sequence, no matter how hard I try.”
“You are too intellectual. Smash the glass!”
He liked my advice.
The next morning, he was exalted but ignored my questions. Instead, he ordered me to lecture him on Plato’s thought. He kept on nodding during the lecture, albeit not as one philosopher trying to comprehend another but as a schoolboy cramming a subject.
“What invention would be the most appreciated by humanity?” he asked then.
“A remedy for cancer or AIDS?”
He nodded and kept checking the time all evening, impatient to go to sleep.
In the morning he was sour.
“Could you suggest some non-pharmaceutical invention?” he asked.
“An accumulator capable of storing maximum of electricity inside a minimum of bulk. It would enable efficient non-polluting cars and help avert the greenhouse effect.”
He nodded and ordered a repetition about Plato; I obliged but hated every minute of it. He waited excitedly for the night to come and was radiant in the morning he but locked himself in his study whence he reappeared at noon with a wad of handwritten notes.
“Let’s go to the Capital!”
In the well-maintained Porsche we speed to the City as if there were no speed-limits, police or people on the roads. With the brakes whining, we stop in front of the Patent Office. The waiting inventors go berserk hearing what we brought – a super-accumulator! They let us jump the line and the experts take to their heads repeatedly, as they read and take in his notes.
It was evening when they finally let us go home, the patent firmly clasped in Vogel’s hand. The answering machine had already recorded some offers. Vogel disconnected the phone and as soon as we finished supper I bombed him with questions.
“So you smashed the glass? Who was the guy? What was Plato for? Where does your technical expertise come from?”
“The guy is from the other side of the glass door – also in his dream. He didn’t have as good an advisor as I,” he bowed, “so he was happy when I smashed the pane. His world is technically more advanced and he is an engineer.”
“What about Plato?”
“Barter. Compared to us, they are underdeveloped philosophically over there.”
“Why not remedy for cancer or AIDS?”
“Cancer and AIDS are unknown to them.”
I took it in and said:
“In a far-off galaxy a guy has patented Plato’s philosophy as his own, and here you make a buck on something invented in some freak dream-related reality…”
“I am expecting more than a buck! And I deserve it: in-dream memorizing of formulas one doesn’t understand is a pain in the neck. The guy’s job was easier: you are also a talented educator and I just repeated your words.”
“Where would you be without me? Shall we say fifty-fifty? And why the breakneck speed? You had it written down on paper.”
“Bell patented his telephone just an hour before his competitor arrived to patent his.”
“Such a crucial invention should perhaps belong to all humanity?” I suggested.
“Will humanity pay your salary every month? Will humanity service my car?”
“You’re right,” I replied, and he went over to reconnect the famous invention of Bell’s.

Copyright © 2004 Peter Billig