by Cliff Hicks
Jake glanced back and called after Bob. “Hope what all works out for me?”
Bob turned around, but kept backing away from Jake, spreading his hands wide. “Heaven! What else?” He turned around again and vanished into the throes of people.
Jake glanced at the guy in front of him, who seemed to be either asleep or so zoned out as to not notice Jake. Jake frowned a little bit, looking down at the paper in his hands and began to read:
SO, YOU’RE DEAD. NOW WHAT…
A starter’s guide
Being newly dead can often be a traumatic experience… Most sentient beings have not adjusted well to the transition between the sensation known as life and the sensation known as death. First off, it’s important to throw away those terms right now. Life, death…what’s the difference? You exist. This is the most important thing and you should be proud of that!
Oh, and hey, look at this! You made it to Heaven! That’s always a plus.
So, let’s start with the basics. Eating? You’re done with it. Those embarrassing rude noises your body made back on the planet? Gone and forgotten. Pain? Thing of the past. Suffering? Not around here, mister! This is Heaven, after all. We have a reputation to uphold. You’ve got to enjoy yourself here. It is, of course, your promised reward. As long as you behave, of course. This is Heaven, after all.
You’re probably noticing right about now that you’re quite solid. Of course you are, you’re holding this pamphlet aren’t you? That’s right. Heaven exists in superspace, which will mean nothing to anyone except a very tiny number of scientists. Put simply, this means that Heaven is in all places at once and also nowhere in particular. Once you’re through the gates, you’ll be able to check in on any of those you may have left behind on the planet after filling out a few simple request forms, although you will probably find you’re enjoying yourself too much to want to leave. This is Heaven, after all.
But at this particular moment, you’re probably wondering one question in particular more than any others… what’s with this line? Fair enough. Before we can let you into Heaven, we have to determine which particular branch of Heaven you belong in, and what particular suburb, section and neighborhood.
Think of it this way – say you’ve died in Bermuda shorts, praying to tan for the rest of your life. Would you really want us to put you in the same Heaven as people who want to be skiing the rest of their existence? Of course not, nor would we want to put you there. You’d be freezing. More importantly, you wouldn’t be happy there, and Ensuring Your Happiness Is Job One. This is Heaven, after all.
Unfortunately, Heaven attracts a lot of people every year. There are literally millions of people clamoring to get in annually. Because of high demand, we cannot process everyone instantaneously. If you assume just 5 million people a year are struggling to get into Heaven, that means we would have to process nearly 10 people a minute for every minute of every day just to keep up. So, as you can imagine, we’re a little backed up. What can we say? We’re popular. This is Heaven, after all. People are dying to get in. Ha ha. Little joke.
Because of this massive overage of people trying to enter, and because we’re having to expand into new areas of superspace all the time, our waiting room can be, well, a little crowded. We’re working on improving this, but as you can imagine, most of our efforts go into making sure you’re happy once you’re inside rather than keeping you content while you’re waiting. After all, what’s a few weeks of waiting for eternal bliss?
So while you’re waiting, you’re probably thinking of what else to do. We’re going to prepare you for the kinds of things you’re going to see on the paperwork when it comes around. Think of all the things you want to be doing the rest of your existence. Think of the people you might want to see again, both those still alive and those who passed before you. Think about what you want to do with eternity. These are important choices; they are not to be made lightly. No one’s telling you that you have to have it perfect right out of the gate, but the more thinking you can do towards it upfront, the better prepared you’ll be when the forms drop in your lap. And it’s good to be prepared.
I’m sure you’re also asking yourself “Does Heaven have any rules?” I’m glad that you asked! There are a few ground rules for Heaven, but nothing that should be too hard to follow.
First, Thou Shalt Not Take Thy Lord Thy God’s Name In Vain. Easy enough, right?
Second, Thou Shalt Not Fornicate. A little tougher, but really, wasn’t sex more trouble than it was worth back on Earth? I’m sure if you think about it, you’ll decide you’re better off without it. Sure, the highs could be pretty intense, but remember all the problems it brought to your life? Remember all the frustration that came along with it? Remember how many people you had to stop talking to because of it? Remember how many conflicts it caused between you and your friends? It might have even killed you!
Statistically speaking, more than a fair share of deaths each year spring from sexually transmitted diseases, or personal conflicts arising from sexual and/or romantic relationships. Or the long bouts of depression caused by other people pointing out they had sexual partners and you didn’t. And suicides! Don’t even get me started on how many suicides are committed as the result of a sexual or emotional relationship gone astray.
Now, knowing that, ask yourself: was sex really worth all that hassle? Of course it wasn’t. And, hey, you don’t have to worry about carrying your lineage on any more. All that’s behind you now. Your biological clock is no longer ticking.
Third, Thou Shalt Not Profane These Sacred Walls. It’s a little trickier, but you’ll get the hang of it. No swearing, no smoking, no drinking, no violence, no abuse, no disruptive activities. Basically, if you respect others, they’ll respect you, and no one will have to worry about getting into trouble with anybody.
Lastly, Heaven is your final resting place. If you were really meant to turn back, you would’ve done so before you got here and had a pamphlet shoved in your hand. The idea of leaving should be ludicrous anyway. Why should anyone want to leave? This is Heaven, after all.
Hopefully this information will prepare you for everything you need to become a well-adjusted post-living human. It was our goal to reassure you that you’ve made the right choice with Heaven. Pretty soon someone should be around with those forms, so just be patient and you’ll be inside Heaven before you know it, and once you’re there, you’ll understand what the fuss is all about. You’ll understand why people have been dying to get in for millenia. You’ll finally get the tour behind the last curtain.
It’s worth the wait! Trust us!
This is Heaven, after all!
Somehow, Jake didn’t find himself very reassured.
* * * * *
Time passed. A lot of it. What seemed like an eternity. Then a few eternity more.
* * * * *
Time, Jake was learning, was extremely relative now that he was dead. For instance, because he no longer needed to sleep, eat or crap, he found it much harder to gauge the passage of time. One’s definition of an hour, say, tended to shift when confronted with a full 24 of them in a day of consciousness, without exhaustion or other basic biological temporal landmarks. Beyond that, he simply found that the act of removing timepieces meant that time was both crawling and flying by at an unimaginable rate. It was flying by frantically for all the people who were outside of his line, scampering and scurrying back and forth as if they were moving bits inside of a clock. This held true for everyone he saw except the people in his line. By contrast, his line was a glacier. His line was evolution. His line was taking its sweet time about doing, well, anything.
For a while, he’d divvied up his time either standing or sitting on the bench, but in the end, he realized there wasn’t much difference. He didn’t get physically tired standing, and no matter how long he sat down, his butt didn’t hurt. There was a remarkable numbness to, well, everything. He’d even stood on his hands for an indeterminable amount of time until he got bored with t
hat as well. His arms hadn’t gotten tired and his head hadn’t hurt from blood rushing to it. It had been mostly disappointing. At least the odd looks people had given him had made it worth it.
An epoch or two later, or at least it felt like that, a diminutive redheaded woman came wandering around with a cart. She was attractive but in a rather unremarkable way, Jake noted, and there was a glowing gold ring levitating around her head. Now, a few billion years ago, when Jake had just gotten here, he might have been impressed by this. But as his time in the line had progressed, he’d seen plenty of people with them and was no longer all that impressed. The redhead wore a nametag that read “Hi! My name is JOY!” Her nametag was printed, except for the part where the name was written in. Joy’s handwriting was flowery and decorative, as if she’s wanted to apply as much calligraphy to her name as possible while still trying to keep it legible.
Joy had been stopping at all the people in line behind Jake, most of whom seemed pretty unconversationalist. Jake had spent much of the first few ice ages of his time in line trying to chat up his fellow linemates with less-than-satisfying results. “Have you gotten your paperwork, sir?” Joy asked the gentleman behind Jake, a tall, scrawny European looking fellow who’d spent his most of the time in line standing, fidgeting. When the man had shown up, Jake had tried talking with him, but realized the man only spoke French after a few seconds. Jake had thought he was going to be the end of the line forever, but instead, the Frenchman had shown up and a few minutes after that, what looked like an African bushman, followed by a couple of Eskimos, and before long, the line extended back as far as the eye could see. “Sir?” the redheaded woman said to him again.
“He doesn’t speak English,” Jake told her helpfully. “He’s French.”
Joy turned to smile at Jake. “Ah, I see, thank you.” Joy closed her eyes for a second, as if she was concentrating, then opened them once more and spoke to the man in flawless French.
The man perked up immediately and they carried on a conversation for a few minutes before she began picking out the forms to hand to the Frenchman. The Frenchman nodded, still chatting away, having apparently been starved for conversation since he arrived. It was obvious, though, that Joy was simply trying to humor him as she sorted through the various colors of forms, pulling out sheet after sheet, pushing them one after another over towards the Frenchman, who kept on gibbering. Finally, Joy grabbed one of those massive phonebooks from the bottom and tossed it the Frenchman’s way. Jake could hear the man “oof” as he caught it, and had to struggle not to laugh. The man then sat down on the bench, taking the pencil that Joy had given him and starting to fill out paperwork.
Joy turned her attention over to Jake with a broad smile. “Thanks. I probably would’ve gone through a dozen languages before I got to French,” she told him, speaking in English again.
“Don’t worry about it. He was sitting behind me for a while moping, so I tried to talk to him, but he doesn’t exactly speak my language. After a little bit, I started to recognize what his was, even though I don’t speak a word of it. Since then he’s been standing around pouting the entire time. I think he even tried to talk to the bushman for a bit, but no one around here speaks French,” Jake said with a soft smile. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve bumped into another English speaker since I got into the line… So is all that in the pamphlet true?”
“All of what?” she asked as she began to pull out various color forms, stacking them up in a staging area on her cart. She wasn’t really looking at Jake any more, focusing more on her task at hand.
“The ‘no sex’ rule, the ‘no being offensive’ rule… I mean, okay, I can kind of see why they’re there, but are they really going to stick to their guns on them?”
She nodded thoroughly. “Of course. The Holy Laws are there for a reason – to protect us, mostly from ourselves. See, back on Earth, we weren’t really aware of what God had in mind for us. But now that we’re in Heaven, God’s Laws have been spelled out explicitly, so there’s no room for confusion.”
“Still, no sex?” Jake asked. “God gave us sex as a joy to partake in and to keep our species fruitful and multiplying.” Jake paused a minute, then cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t He?”
“God’s purpose in bringing sex to the world was simply to make the act of continuing the species an enjoyable one. He never intended it to become a form of recreation,” she said with an almost condescending sigh. “It’s remarkable how many people on Earth have misunderstood God’s wishes.”
“Ever talked to Him?” Jake asked her.
“Who?”
“Y’know… God.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been blessed with an audience, although I have met a few of the Archangels on occasion. In fact, Gabriel was the one who placed my halo upon my head.”
Jake pointed at the golden ring curiously. “Does it do anything?”
Joy peered back at him curiously. “Do?”
“Do,” Jake repeated helpfully. “Does it actually do anything? Is it a badge of honor or something? Or a rank, maybe?”
Her face contracted into something significantly less pretty as the skin scrunched up in a scowl. “It’s doesn’t do anything, but it’s a record of excellent service to the Host. I told them I wanted to do something with my afterlife, so I’ve been giving them my time handing out pamphlets, passing out forms, processing… anything I can do to help. Because I’ve been so helpful, they gave me a halo a few years ago.”
“But, it doesn’t actually do anything. It’s still just decorative. Ornamentation. Why have something that isn’t for any purpose other than show?”
“It’s a mark of rank,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if the whole conversation was starting to annoy her. Jake found he seemed to have that effect on people around here. First Bob, now Joy. It was almost as if they were unaccustomed to people having an opinion that didn't immediately fall in line with what they expected. Joy looked particularly irked. “That’s more than enough.” The woman looked back at her paperwork, a bit less, well, joyously, focusing on finding the forms as quickly as possible. It seemed obvious to Jake she didn’t care for having something she was so proud of questioned.
“But isn’t that vanity? And isn’t vanity a sin?” Jake was starting to enjoy himself just a little bit. It seemed even Heaven wasn’t without its flaws, which Jake found rather funny. This was Heaven, after all.
The pamphlet had said so.
“Look, here are your forms, just take them and shut up, will you?” She pushed the large stack of forms his way and then moved forward to talk to the person in front of Jake in a language Jake didn’t even recognize. Then again, the man in front of Jake also had a bone tied off in his beard, so Jake had been fairly sure he wouldn’t have known a word of whatever it was they were speaking.
Within twenty minutes, the pretty little redhead was gone, leaving Jake only with his forms and the distinct impression that Heaven was not all it was cracked up to be.
* * * * *
When he dug into the forms, Jake found that he was going to have a long, uncomfortable experience filling them out. The large phonebook, which he’d assumed would be an instruction manual on how to fill out the forms, was in fact the main form. There were instructions sprinkled through it, but in glancing at it, he wasn’t sure they were going to help much. It almost felt like doing his taxes all over again, if his tax forms had been written by the Marquis De Sade with literary diarrhea.
On the very first page, of course, the questions were easy enough and Jake began flying through them. They were mostly hereditary questions – parents’ names, grandparents’ names, things like that. The second page was mostly vital stats, which Jake had to confess finding a little amusement in. Date of birth and date of death were both fairly easy, but Jake couldn’t help but wonder if people who had trouble remembering the date began panicking around this point. Thankfully, Jake was not one of those people, and he jotted down the day he had died helpfully
.
The forms were on almost blindingly white paper, and the pencils they’d been given didn’t use lead, but some form of gold dust. They never seemed to need sharpening, nor did they ever get any shorter. They had an eraser-like end, which simply wiped the gold dust away. The experience was somewhat disquieting and Jake found himself eager to avoid mistakes, simply to not have to witness the Miracle of the Gold Pencil Dust Eraser any more.
As he moved onward along the form, the questionnaire began to feel more and more like a test. Jake wondered how much of his own life he was going to be expected to remember. The questions ranged from the simplistic to the absurd. He wondered how they expected anyone to remember their first sin. Didn’t most people forget these kinds of things by now? It certainly wasn’t something he could place his finger on, so he pondered the line for a long time and then simply wrote down the first thing he could remember. He was sure there was something before playing “doctor” in the back yard with Angela Sandoz when he was 5, but he hadn’t the foggiest what it was. He wondered, idly, what would happen if got something wrong.
The questions about his youth seemed simpler the further he moved on, and gave him a brief surge of hope until the test (form? He wasn’t sure what to call it) took a turn for the bizarre. They began to get into social questions that made absolutely no sense to him. “If Jeff and Nancy, who have been a couple for eight months, meet up with their friends Arthur and Jennifer, who have been a couple for two months, and Jennifer has brought a cheese fondu, not knowing Nancy is allergic to cheese, when Jeff is serving duck, not knowing that Jennifer is a vegetarian, what is the best way to diffuse the issue that Nancy and Arthur once dated and did not realize it until the moment they all sit down for dinner?” Jake could only ponder the surrealism of the question before shaking his head and scrawling down some random answer. After a while, Jake found himself doing that a lot. It was almost as if the questions had moved into the realm of the absurd and then just kept on going, never once looking back at rationality.
