Off The Record
A Rich Man Drove Away His Poor Neighbor’s Thirsty Son—Ten Years Later, Karma Came Knocking
Ten years ago, a ten-year-old child in need of water to save his dying mother knocked on the door of a wealthy man. The child’s life was ruined by the man’s callous reaction in ways that nobody could have predicted. But would the boy chose repentance or retribution when fate brought them together once more?
The taste of fear was something Viktor never forgot. Like the medication his mother couldn’t take without water that awful afternoon, it tasted bitter.
He didn’t have many things growing up, but he made up for it with love. He grew up in a modest, dilapidated house with groaning floorboards and peeling paint, yet it was cosy. The day his father passed away, everything changed.
Viktor hardly had time to grasp the suddenness of the car crash. His father was there one minute, ruffling his hair and said he would take him fishing on Sunday. The following day, policemen with sombre expressions and low accents knocked on their door. Viktor had just turned seven.
His mum, Mara, was broken by the loss. Viktor noticed how her shoulders drooped a bit more every day, despite her best efforts to conceal it and remain strong for her kid. She couldn’t keep up with the bills piling up. They were straining to make ends meet without his father’s meagre income, which had been their lifeline.
One evening, Viktor saw her sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands and enquired, “Mom, why are you crying?”
Mara forced a smile and wiped her eyes swiftly. “I’m not crying, sweetheart. Just tired from work.”
He replied softly, “You’re always tired now,” and climbed into the chair next to her.
She drew him in and planted a kiss on his crown. “I know, baby. But we’re going to be okay. We have each other, and that’s what matters most.”
However, even that promise started to fall apart three years later. Mara became ill. It began with chronic coughs that reverberated around their small home at night. Then came the weakness, the fevers, and the days when she was unable to move from her bed.
At eleven, Viktor took on the role of carer. Even though they frequently burnt, he learnt how to prepare basic meals. Counting each cent twice, he used the few bucks she put into his palm to buy groceries. When she was too weak to walk alone, he assisted her to the toilet, feigning indifference when she sobbed with tiredness.
She said, “Viktor, you’re such a good boy,” one afternoon. “You shouldn’t have to do all this.”
As he adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, he whispered, “I want to help you, Mom,” “You always took care of me. Now it’s my turn.”
“You’re ten years old. You should be playing with friends, not playing nurse to your sick mother.”
He obstinately shook his head. “I don’t need friends. I have you.”
She grinned, but her eyes were glistening with tears. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
It began like any other awful day until everything fell apart. Their water line had burst throughout the night, but Mara’s prescription was on the nightstand. Water gathered on the kitchen floor, and despite Viktor’s repeated attempts to turn on the faucet, it only produced a mocking, hollow sound.
He screamed out loud, “Mom needs to take her pills,” as his heart began to race. “She needs water.”
The enormous estate that towered just down the street caught his attention as he peered out the window. He had driven by it innumerable times, admiring its immaculately trimmed grass and sparkling windows. The residents were wealthy. wealthy individuals who most likely have a limitless supply of water and other necessities.
Viktor walked up the long driveway, his hands shaking. There was a doorbell, but the gate was large and intimidating. His heart pounded against his ribs as he pressed it and waited.
Viktor made himself talk when a man responded. “I need water, please. My mum… she’s sick. Our pipe broke, and she needs to take her medication.”
The man’s eyes were icy and evaluating as he peered down at him. His shoes shone like mirrors, and his pricey suit was immaculately ironed. Suddenly, Viktor felt little and filthy in his shabby clothes.
A flat “Not my problem,” the man said.
“Please, sir. Just a bottle of water. Anything. She’s really sick.”
The man twisted his lip. “I’m not responsible for your family’s poverty. Maybe if your father had worked instead of teaching you to beg at strangers’ doors, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Viktor’s voice cracked. “My father died. He died in a car accident. My mum is really, really sick. I just need a little water.”
“At your age, I was already earning my own money,” the man scoffed. “Get off my property before I call the police.”
Viktor recoiled as the door slammed so forcefully. Stunned and ashamed, he stood for a time before turning and going home, his eyes burning and his hands empty.
Everything worsened that evening. Though it wasn’t enough to halt what happened next, Viktor offered his mother water from the emergency jug they kept in the basement.
After nightfall, someone knocked on their door. A police officer and a child services employee were present.
“We received a report about unsafe living conditions,” the woman murmured softly while surveying the house with severe eyes.
As they questioned his mother, looked at the burst pipe, and pointed out that there was no food in the refrigerator, Viktor stared in fear. The choice had already been made, regardless of how much Mara begged and how many times Viktor sobbed that he could look after her.
That same evening, they took him away.
Viktor watched his mother fall on the front porch, crying and grabbing for him as he pressed his face against the car window. He would never be able to forget that vision.
Three months later, she passed away. A social worker informed Viktor about it, delivering the news with a well-honed sense of empathy. He was eleven years old when all of a sudden he found himself alone in the world.
Viktor’s final memory for years was of his mother grabbing him through the car window. And next to that recollection was the ruthless visage of the man who had refused them water.
The ensuing decade was challenging.
Viktor went through foster homes, but he never felt like he belonged. However, he sought solace at school. Science became his haven, and books his escape. Dreaming of helping lives and being someone who helped rather than hurt, he studied with a fierce desire.
He was awarded a full scholarship to medical college by the time he was eighteen. He met Sofia there during his sophomore year. For the first time in years, something in Viktor’s chest relaxed when she smiled at him while they were sitting next to each other in anatomy class.
She said, “You always look so serious,” as they were studying together one afternoon. “Do you ever relax?”
Viktor looked up from his textbook. “I relax.”
With a twinkle in her eyes, she said, “When? I’ve never seen it.”
Sofia shut his book and chuckled. “Come on. Let’s take a real break. Tell me something about yourself that has nothing to do with medicine.”
Something about Sofia made him want to try, even though he was hesitant. “I like old films. Black and white ones. They remind me of watching them with my mum when I was little.”
Her face softened. “That’s sweet. I’d love to watch one with you sometime.”
Their bond developed gradually. Sofia was kind to Viktor’s reserved heart and patient with his silences. He had forgotten how to laugh, but she made him laugh. Viktor thought for the first time since he was a child that he might genuinely have a happy future.
Two years went by. Now twenty years old, Viktor was in his last year of medical school. In a world that had been so unkind to him, Sofia had been his fulcrum.
She said it during supper one spring evening. “I want you to meet my parents.”
Halfway to his mouth, Viktor’s fork hesitated. “Your parents?”
She leaned across the table and held his hand, saying, “Yes. We’ve been together for two years. They’ve been asking about you forever.” “I know meeting parents is scary, but I promise they’re really nice.”
“I don’t know, Sofia. I’m not good at those kinds of things.”
Her statement, “You’re good at everything,” was forceful. “My dad keeps saying he wants to meet the brilliant young man who’s stolen his daughter’s heart.”
Viktor hoped that there were decent individuals in the world who valued people’s hearts more than their financial situation.
Finally, “Okay,” he said. “When?”
“This Saturday?”
As they drove through progressively wealthier neighbourhoods on Saturday, Viktor’s palms were perspiring. Viktor gasped when Sofia pulled up to a huge estate with iron gates.
“I know it’s a lot,” she added, nearly expressing regret. “But don’t let the house intimidate you.”
With his heart racing, Viktor followed her up the stone pathway. They waited as Sofia rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps coming from within.
Viktor’s whole world came to a halt when the door opened.
He was the one. The same man. Even though he was older and had grey hair, he was still clearly the same person who had slammed the door in his face ten years prior. His life had been ruined by the man.
“Sofia, sweetheart!” the dad said, embracing his daughter before turning to face Viktor with a kind grin and an outstretched hand. “And you must be Viktor. I’ve heard so much about you. Welcome, son. Come in, come in.”
As his mind shouted, Viktor’s hand moved instinctively, shaking the man’s hand. He was unable to speak. He was having trouble breathing.
He was completely unrecognisable to Sofia’s father.
In a stupor, Viktor strolled through the mansion. With recollections of that awful day racing through his head, he sat down mechanically.
Sofia touched his arm and murmured, “Viktor, are you okay?” “You look pale.”
He managed to say, “I’m fine,” but his voice sounded empty.
Fine dinnerware was used to serve the dinner. Elena, Sofia’s mother, continued the conversation by enquiring about Viktor’s aspirations and academic pursuits.
Elena responded kindly, “Everything Sofia has told us has really impressed us.” “A full scholarship to medical school. That takes real dedication.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Viktor muttered.
Sofia’s father, Adrian, smiled contentedly as he leaned back in his chair. “I respect a young man who works hard. That’s how I built my business. Started from nothing and worked my way up.”
began with nothing, Victor reasoned. This man doesn’t understand the true meaning of nothing.
Sofia squeezed Viktor’s hand beneath the table and remarked, “Viktor’s amazing, Dad. He’s going to be an incredible doctor.”
Adrian held up his wine glass and said, “I’m sure he will be.” “To Viktor. Welcome to our family.”
Viktor had a constricted throat. With a shaking hand, he grabbed his water glass and put it down. The time had arrived.
Silently, “May I have some water, please?” Viktor said.
Adrian got to his feet right away. After filling Viktor’s glass, he smiled and put it down, saying, “Of course, son! I like you already.”
Something inside Viktor snapped as he gazed at the lake.
“That’s exactly what I asked you ten years ago,” Viktor remarked. “Remember?”
There was silence at the table. Adrian’s grin dimmed. “I’m sorry, what?”
With trembling hands, Viktor said, “Ten years ago. I knocked on your door. I was ten years old, and I asked you for water.” “My mother was dying. Our pipe had burst. She needed water to take her medication.”
Adrian’s expression turned white.
“You told me it wasn’t your problem,” Viktor went on. “You said maybe if my father had worked instead of teaching me to beg, we wouldn’t be so poor. But my father was dead.”
Sofia muttered, “Viktor,” her eyes wide with surprise.
Viktor broke down in tears as he said, “You slammed the door in my face. Then you called child services.” “They took me away from her that night. She died three months later, alone. I never got to say goodbye. All because you couldn’t spare a single bottle of water.”
Elena covered her lips with her palm while Adrian stood still.
Adrian made a coughing noise all of a sudden. He put his hands to his throat. His face became purple and then red.
“Dad!” cried Sofia, leaping from her seat. However, she was too startled to act.
Adrian was unable to breathe and fell to his knees, gasping. He had a chunk of steak stuck in his throat.
“Viktor, please!” exclaimed Elena. “Help him!”
Sitting still, Viktor watched the man who had ruined his boyhood gasp for breath. His entire being cried out for justice. This man need to experience what it was like to be powerless.
Then he saw the fear in Sofia’s eyes and her face. In a matter of seconds, his hands were behind Adrian, executing the Heimlich manoeuvre with well-honed accuracy. Once, twice, three times. The flesh fragment came loose.
Coughing and gasping, Adrian fell to the ground, yet alive.
Over him, Viktor stood with a heaving chest.
Silently, “I am not you,” he said. “I’m nothing like you.”
He turned and left the mansion after saying that.
As the sun sank, Viktor ended up at the graveyard. His body trembled with tears as he knelt at his mother’s grave.
“Mom, I don’t know if I did the right thing. He destroyed us. He took you away from me. And I saved him.” His voice cracked. “Was I wrong?”
After wiping his eyes, Viktor turned to face the cemetery barrier. The old iron bars had been spray-painted with graffiti. His attention was drawn to one message: “U’R RIGHT.”
Something in Viktor’s chest relaxed as he heard those two straightforward sentences in sloppy blue paint.
“Viktor,” he heard.
He turned to see Adrian standing a few steps away, tears streaming down his face. There, on the lawn, the man went on his knees.
With a choking “I’m so sorry,” Adrian said. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me. What I did was unforgivable.”
Slowly, Viktor stood up. “You have no idea what you took from me.”
Adrian sobbed till his entire body trembled. “I know.” “I was cruel. I was heartless. I never thought about the lives I destroyed. Your mother, you, all those years you suffered.” He gazed up at Viktor. “I can’t change what I did. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, if you’ll let me.”
Viktor gazed down at this shattered man who had once exuded such strength. He just appeared tiny and remorseful now.
Whispering, “I hated you for so long,” Viktor said.
“I deserve your hate.”
Viktor’s voice broke as he said, “Maybe.” “But my mother didn’t raise me to carry hate. She raised me to be kind, even when the world wasn’t kind to me.”
With a trembling breath, Viktor held out his hand. “I can’t promise I’ll ever fully forgive you. But I won’t let what you did turn me into someone like you used to be.”
Taking hold of Viktor’s hand, Adrian raised himself. He suddenly drew Viktor into an embrace, and Viktor returned the hug, startled by his own response. They both poured out ten years of grief and rage.
Sofia and her mother were standing at the cemetery entrance when they parted ways.
Viktor grabbed Sofia as she ran towards him and held her close. “I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper.
“No,” she firmly stated. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
Viktor glanced at the graffiti on the fence behind her. “U’R RIGHT.” Two words that felt like his mother’s voice, freeing him to let go.
Being kind is not being weak. Mercy isn’t capitulation. Furthermore, you are not a victim if you decide to assist someone, even if they have harmed you. It fortifies you against the pain that attempted to shatter you.
Now, Viktor was a physician, a healer, and a lifesaver. Perhaps he had finally saved himself by sparing the guy who had previously destroyed everything.
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