by Cliff Hicks
“Aren’t I?” the kid asked, sounding perplexed.
Bob felt his wit fading out of him. He knew he was going to have to get this kid’s headphones off of him, but Bob actually felt like he needed to do this kid a favor in return. Maybe it was all the times he’d been rough around the edges to people he picked up, but he felt like since he was asking something from this kid, he should offer something back in exchange. There wasn’t a whole lot Bob could really do for the kid – he was dead after all – but Bob could think of a few things he might be able to do to smooth the kid’s path a bit. “You are, kid. You’re dead. But I’ve got a deal to make you…” Bob said, as he grabbed the student’s hand and helped his ghost to his feet. “D’ya like virgins?”
“Virgins?”
“Virgins,” Bob said as he gestured with his hand. “Women who’ve never had a man teach them the ways of love and all that. That the kind of thing you want out of your Heaven?”
The student, whose name was Tommy, frowned a little bit. This clearly was not a conversation he had ever expected to have. “Not… no, not exactly?”
“Well,” Bob said, as he put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, starting to walk down the street with him, “what did you have in mind for Heaven?”
Tommy scratched his head a little bit. “Y’know, I hadn’t thought about it, really. I dunno. Isn’t all this stuff sort of predetermined?”
Bob laughed a little bit, reaching his chubby hand up to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Aren’t you just the cutest. Nah, kid, Heaven’s a big place, and there’s a little something for everyone there. And I can help you get to the place in Heaven you’ll be happiest. But I gotta know what you’re looking for. You one of those guys who wants to be telling everyone what to do all the time?” Bob didn’t think that was the kind of person Tommy was at all, but he hoped by throwing something wild out there, it would get the kid talking.
“God, no,” Tommy said, shaking his head. Behind them there was the commotion of an ambulance pulling up, and the hustle and bustle of paramedics dashing out towards Tommy’s already lifeless corpse. “I, uh… I sort of suspected I’d meet a nice girl in Heaven, I guess, someone who liked me for me, and I could sit around drawing the world around me. I wasn’t all that good at meeting girls when I was alive, so I guess I just wanted to find the perfect girl for me in the afterlife.”
Bob frowned a little bit, scrunching his face up. “Y’know kid, just because I’m a Cherubim doesn’t make me Cupid.” In front of them, a portal of white opened and the two turned their course slightly and started walking towards it. “Still, I suppose I can see what I can do… if you can see fit to give up those headphones.”
Tommy shrugged, fishing his iPod out of his pocket, winding the earphones around it, holding it out to him as they reached the doorway of blinding light. “Sure thing. I mean, what am I gonna need it for in Heaven?”
“That’s the spirit, kid,” Bob said, as the two set foot into Heaven. “And if you change your mind about the virgin thing any time until I drop you off, you lemme know.”
“Uh, okay…”
* * * * *
As the three angels reached the first major corridor, James looked over at Randall and snapped his fingers. “Randall, give me the picture and follow my lead. Get ready to play ‘good cop,’” James said as he took the picture from Randall’s outstretched hand. When someone new was brought to their cellblock, Randall had taken a picture of them, even though there wasn’t a protocol for him to do so, and it was a stroke of luck that he had, otherwise they would’ve had no way of identifying Jake. They only had the one, though, so they had brought it with them. “You there!” he boomed, threateningly at one of the two angels standing guard.
James stormed over at him with a heavy stance, and for just a minute, Randall wondered what James had done during all of the time between arriving in Heaven three thousand years ago and his being assigned to their wing about two celestial years ago. “What’s your name you slouching layabout?”
Inside the guard sighed resignedly but outside he snapped to attention. He was really getting tired of these surprise inspections. Three celestial years standing guard here and not one person had asked a question of him that wasn’t along the lines of “you playing cards tonight?” Not one single person asking serious questions of him in all that time, and now, two in one week. “Adams, sir!” When had their sleepy little wing become such a matter of concern, he wondered. “Can I help you, sir?” Adams didn’t actually know if these three angels were his superiors, but they were certainly acting like it, and that was more than enough for him. His mother had often told him that he should trust people in charge, because they inevitably knew what to do better than he did. And being a dutiful son, he’d taken the lesson to heart. (Perhaps too well.)
Randall walked over and put his hand on James’ shoulder quietly. “Easy there, James. Adams here is just doing his job, isn’t that right Adams?” He smiled a bit patronizingly at the angel. It was the kind of smile an elderly man would give a young boy in a candy store, and somehow it put Adams at ease a little. He liked being told he was doing the right thing. It made him more comfortable in his complacency.
“Yes sir!” Adams barked out. He was standing straight up, at attention, or some vague approximation of it he thought, having never been in the military. (Not for lack of trying, mind you.) “What assistance can I provide you with, sir?” It was odd that there was a trio of them, Adams thought to himself, especially since the last inspection had just been one man, a much more common occurrence at the sub-block entrances, if his fellow guards were to be believed. He’d never been inspected before this week, but that didn’t mean he and his partner never saw people. They just mostly came and went alone. Very rare was it that anyone moved in groups through this door, so rare in fact that Adams couldn’t think of the last time he’d seen it. The wards were brought in through a different set of entrances, which were eventually sealed up behind them. So when people came through these tunnel entrances, it was invariably one at a time. Still, he realized, questions only drove people mad. And he couldn’t afford a car to drive back in.
James clenched his face up a bit, scowling at Adams before he thrust a picture into his face. “Seen this man?” He held the picture so close to Adams’ face, Adams was forced to lean his head back to be able to focus on the image. Adams recognized the face immediately though. He was unlikely to forget the man who’d come barging through, checking up on him a few days ago.
“Yes sir, I have,” Adams said with a nod. “The supervisor was through here early this week.”
“Supervisor?” Shelly asked, leaning over Randall’s shoulder to poke her head in the conversation. There wasn’t much in the way of identification in Heaven, but still, it had never occurred to the three angels that Jake would have simply walked out and pretended like he owned the place. It was, Shelly thought to herself, brilliant in its simplicity, but ballsy as all get out. “Did he say he was a supervisor?”
Adams felt his heart drop just a little bit. He thought back and realized the man hadn’t actually said he was a supervisor. Not in so many words. Not specifically. But he certainly felt like a supervisor. But, now that he thought about it, neither had these three. In fact, the three in front of him hadn’t stated any actual purpose at all, just strolled up and started asking questions. It hadn’t occurred to Adams that anyone would be anything except what they seemed in Heaven, but now that someone had mentioned it… “No, ma’am, he didn’t, but I don’t believe you three have identified yourselves either. Do we have some sort of problem here?” Adams felt himself getting a little bolder, perhaps his sense of self-preservation kicking in, refusing to admit the mistake was his by catching them in theirs.
The guard started to wonder if maybe these three were someplace they weren’t supposed to be, and if maybe he should tell someone about this conversation, but he also didn’t want to get too hotheaded, in case he was wrong. Most importantly, though, Adams didn’t want to ro
ck any boats, or be noticed. He’d have been perfectly happy, he thought to himself, if the three would’ve simply turned around and walked back the way they came so he could forget the whole thing. He doubted they would, but still it was nice to be optimistic about these kinds of things every once in a while, he figured. This was Heaven, after all.
Randall waved his hand dismissively and laughed a little bit. “We’re not checking up on you, Adams,” he chuckled. This confused Adams, which was plain to see by looking at him and the quizzical look on his face. (Adams’ partner, who had remained impassive and inscrutable the entire time, continued to be so. Sometimes Adams wondered if he fell asleep standing up with his eyes open.) “We’re checking up on the supervisor. He’s not supposed to identify himself when he conducts inspections, otherwise there’s a chance that fine young men like yourselves would let someone else know he’s wandering around conducting inspections. And that sort of takes the surprise out of surprise inspections, if you know what I mean.”
Adams’ eyes rolled up a little as he thought back, replaying his encounter with Jake in his head. “No sir, he never did identify himself.” He paused and then nodded to himself, as if it took him a minute to replay the entire encounter in his head. Randall wondered if the guy, who was certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed, was actually walking through the entire encounter step-by-step in his head while they waited. It certainly looked that way to him, he thought to himself, as Adams stood there with that not-so-bright look on his face, before speaking again. It was as though something had clicked in Adams’ head, and he’d come to a conclusion, after a long and laborious thought process.
“Although I do have to say, sir, he didn’t seem to be wandering. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. Man walked with confidence in his stride. Reminded me of my R.O.T.C. instructor back on Earth.” He leaned in and whispered a bit conspiratorially at Randall. “Truth be told, sir, I think that man you’ve got a picture of there would’ve been insulted if you called him wandering. He most certainly had a purpose, wouldn’t you say so Chris?” Adams looked at his partner, who was still staring straight forward. Eventually, the other angel nodded, saying absolutely nothing. Adams blinked, then turned his attention back to Randall. “So there you go, sir. If you’re asking me if I thought he did a good job checking up on us, I would say he did a fine job indeed, sir.”
Adams actually wasn’t sure what a good or bad job of checking up on someone would be like, but he felt that based on the fact that they hadn’t been pulled from duty, the supervisor’s report about them must have been at least satisfactory, and he could do the man the courtesy of returning the favor. People who were being checked up on had a solemn duty to stick it to those who were checking up on them. It was in the code, or it would be if such a code existed, Adams was certain.
James let the frown fade from his face and tried to look mostly impassive, while trying to keep some of his imposing presence, as he tucked the picture away inside the folds of his robe. “And which way would that be, Adams?” James kept a steady look at Adams while he awaited his answer, and Adams repeated the heavily concentrating look of a man who is struggling to lodge something complex from the deepest recesses of his brain, most likely through the use of a cotton swab jammed a bit too deeply in the ear canal.
After a minute or two of pondering, Adams lifted one of his hands up and pointed down the corridor. “Down that way, sir. I saw him talking to one of the Cherubim for a minute or so, then he kept heading down that way until he was out of my sight, sir.”
“Thank you, Adams. That’ll be all,” James said as the three angels started to move down the corridor themselves. They were quick in their step, and Adams waved cheerfully behind them, happy to be rid of them, eager to get back to his contemplation of what he was going to do with his next day off. Once they were out of earshot range, James laughed a little bit to himself and looked at the other two. “He wasn’t too bright, was he?”
Shelly shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t even think he knew what he was supposed to be doing there. I mean, they’re posted on the outsides of the cellblocks, and not the inside. What is management worried about, invasion? Mass riots? Shouldn’t they be more worried about people trying to get out? Shouldn’t they, I don’t know, be on the other side of the door?”
Randall sighed in response as the three continued their way down the long white corridor that looked identical to every other white corridor as far as the eye could see. “I was amazed there were guards at all, actually. Heaven apparently used to be so confident that people would be happy wherever they ended up, there weren’t even doors.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Shelly asked, dodging a tall angel with a massive stack of paperwork in his arms who was moving past them in the opposite direction. It was a sign they were moving into the more populated areas of Heaven and out of the outskirts where places like their cellblocks were kept. It was hard to get an actual picture of what Heaven looked like in terms of layout, mostly because it felt like any hallway was interchangeable with any other hallway, except that the rooms at the ends of them had different people jammed in them, but that didn’t stop the angels from wondering.
“One of the old-timers said it during my training session,” Randall said as he helped steady the giant monstrosity of paper in the angel’s arms as he pushed past him in turn. It wasn’t that the hallways were too narrow so much as the fact that size of the stack of papers in the angel’s arms kept him wobbling back and forth in the hallway to keep the papers from toppling over. Randall simply helped him out of reflex. “You’ve been here a long time, James. That true?”
James lifted his hands, spreading them as he turned flat to press his back against the wall, giving the tall angel as much room as he could to pass. “I guess. That was a very long time ago, though.” He kept quiet, as if trying to discourage the questions with his silence, a tactic that rarely worked with this bunch, and showed no sign of working now, as the angel passed him and the three of them carried on their way again.
Randall stopped in his tracks, causing James to almost walk into him. Randall then turned to look at James with a bit of a frown. “You guess? Either you do know, or you don’t, man, so which is it?”
James’ face reflected a combination of annoyance and resignation, as he stopped as well, making Shelly stop with them. “Look, Randall, I know you’re in charge, so I’m trying to be polite about it all, okay, but what happened to me personally is my business and none of yours. Heaven’s… well, it’s just a lot different than it used to be. It was smaller, more intimate. And it felt like the angels actually gave a damn about us. But that was a long time ago. As the population’s been growing, there’s been less of them and a bunch more of us, so they can’t make us feel as special any more. And mostly? That just makes me sad. I feel like we’re not giving these people an afterlife where they can find eternal happiness, we’re just… keeping them busy. Detaining them. And that doesn’t feel right to me, okay?” His voice had been growing tenser as he spoke to Randall, and towards the end, he was practically shaking a lecturing finger in Randall’s direction.
The change in tone did not go unnoticed by Shelly and Randall, who weren’t used to seeing James get wound up unless he was intentionally trying to project an image of being upset. Here, however, Randall had clearly touched a nerve and he wanted to put James back at ease quickly. “Hey, easy there, James, a’right? I don’t know who these people are and why they get sent into spaces like ours, but I think it’s just because they don’t fit in anywhere else, so it’s our job to help them fit in, okay? I mean, Heaven has to do something with them, so we try and make them comfortable and happy, but we can only do so much.”
“That’s just it, Randall,” James said, pausing for a very long moment. “I almost… I almost just want to let this kid go.”
Shelly jumped into the conversation suddenly, with a gasp. “You can’t mean that, James! You just can’t!”
James turne
d to look at her, a tired expression behind his eyes. “Honestly, Shelly, if it were you in there, if you’d been forced to sit through that arts and crafts lifestyle Byron inflicts on them day in, day out, wouldn’t you go crazy? Wouldn’t you want to bust out if you were one of them?”
Randall chuckled quietly. “No shit. There’s days I want to bust out and I’m one of us.”
Shelly sighed with resignation, clearly somewhat uncomfortable with this line of conversation. “I wouldn’t just run out, though. I’d talk to someone first, tell them I wasn’t happy.”
Randall gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “He did. We weren’t listening. Remember? Remember when he told us he didn’t want to do the things the group was doing?” He started the three of them moving again, as a Cherubim with three newly collected souls in tow starting moving towards them from one of the doorways. The three angels lowered their voices, but continued with their conversation.
“Well,” Shelly said, “that was because we just suspected the drugs hadn’t taken hold, that he’d be fine once he was drugged.”
“But it seems he didn’t take the drugs, Shelly. Or, worse, what if he took them and they didn’t do anything for him? Regardless, we had a guy in there who wasn’t drugged in a situation you clearly need to be on fairly heavy medication to endure.”
Randall snorted a bit. “I know it drives me up the wall.”
“Exactly,” James stated, pointing a finger at him. “And you signed up for it. To this guy, it must’ve been like torture. And really, who wants that kind of thing out of Heaven, you know? I can’t imagine it’s what anyone wants from their eternal respite. This certainly isn’t what I wanted out of Heaven.”
“What did you want out of Heaven, not to pry?” Shelly asked as they moved towards the doorway the Cherubim had been leading people out of a moment ago.
“Originally, I just wanted something restful, but after doing that for a few hundred celestial years, I got bored. So I asked if I could do something. They made me a Tagger for a while, but I learned I didn’t enjoy that at all, so I processed forms for a while, but that got pretty tedious, too, so they put me in here. To be honest, though, I don’t like it here much either. I mean, you guys are okay, but it feels almost as bad as when I was a Tagger. It’s Heaven, right? Why should anyone be unhappy? Yet, none of the people we take care of are genuinely happy. They’re just drugged into a mindless zombie state, and we tell ourselves they’re happy when they’re not. Why can’t we just make people happy instead?”
