Sometimes when sleeping, people dream. Many times, these dreams are pleasant and help to figure out all the weird things that happen during the day. Other times, dreams can turn on you and cause all sorts of problems. Sometimes you sleep and there is nothing.
When Jason awoke, he expected to be dead. The satin sheets and soft down of the king-sized pillows were an indication of life, albeit the best taste of life Jason had ever experienced in his 27 years. The room was all white. Sunlight shined through the bay windows, and a blue sky capped off a mind-boggling view. It was like seeing the whole world from your window.
“Where am I?”
Jason got out of bed and noticed his clothes were different. Very different. No winter jacket and ski pants; Jason was in all white, a comfortable two piece ideal for sleeping in, but not quite sleepwear. The fabric was like silk, warm like flannel, and breathed like Egyptian cotton. The clothes fit him perfectly.
He moved into another room; a table was set with a luxurious breakfast: grits, three kinds of sausage, Sunday bacon (thick slabs, fresh from the butcher), fluffy eggs (scrambled but firm), buttermilk pancakes with warm maple syrup on the side, and three kinds of fruit, a pitcher of mimosa and good, strong coffee – a heavenly blend of Kenya, Columbian and Indonesian. Jason discovered he was hungry. He sat down and ate everything.
After breakfast, Jason went outside. He saw lots of people, and they were walking here and there. He stopped a middle-aged gentleman.
“Excuse me, but what is this place?”
“You must be new here,” the gentleman said. “This is heaven.”
“But that can’t be possible,” Jason said. “I was snowboarding!”
“Not a bad way to go,” said the gentleman. “My name’s Raleigh.”
“Jason,” shaking hands.
“I suppose you’ll need to go to Orientation,” said Raleigh. “Don’t worry, I know the way.”
Jason followed Raleigh through the golden streets of heaven, and watched the people as they walked along.
“So weird.”
“What’s weird?” asked Raleigh.
“I didn’t expect heaven to be so… crowded,” said Jason.
“Well, there’s a lot more people here than there are on earth. Or so I’ve been told,” said Raleigh.
“So you’ve been told?”
“Well, I’ve been here so long, I can hardly remember earth. I’m not even sure I’m from there… wait, here we are.”
Raleigh pointed to a massive building, as tall as it is wide.
“Take the North entrance. That’s for the newcomers.”
“Aren’t you coming in with me?” Jason asked.
“No, no. I’m not a newcomer. I’ll see you around.” And in a flash, Raleigh was gone.
Jason had no problem finding the north entrance, since there was a huge open door marked NORTH ENTRANCE. As he entered, Jason came to a counter, where he was given a number by a very attractive woman who smiled and told him to wait in line. At first, Jason hadn’t thought waiting in line was very heavenly, but it wasn’t that bad. Before long, his name was called, and he was told by another very attractive woman to go to the room indicated by his number. He looked up, and saw the room almost immediately. Jason opened the door.
“Hello, Mr. Adams. Please, have a seat.”
The man was very young, possibly eighteen, but had the voice of Charles Townsend, deep and grizzly, yet filled with wisdom. He resembled a raven-haired Anderson Cooper done right.
“Hey, look, I don’t know what’s going on but -”
“And that’s why you’re here, Mr. Adams. Won’t you sit down?”
“How are you doing that with your voice?”
“My voice? Oh, yes… To me I’ve always sounded like this, even as a kid. As to the way I look, well, I prefer it. If you prefer to stand…”
“What? Oh!” Jason took a seat in the large chair to the left of him, and was immediately distracted at how comfortable the chair was, almost like being in love for the first time. He eventually noticed the young man with the old voice was talking to him.
“…although we don’t look at it as spying per se, it does take some folks a little while to get used to it – the chair is rather comfortable, is it not?”
“Wait, you said something about spying? Who am I spying on?
The man chuckled. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. Let me go back a little.
“My name, is Charlie. In life, I was a government operative. I’ve known nothing else, and because of that, I’m well suited for training and counseling of the new recruits.
“Recruited? I don’t remember signing up for anything.”
“Sorry. A problem with language. What I mean is, it was your time to go. Anyway, you might not have thought you were ready, and that leads you to me. I can help you get adjusted.”
I shouldn’t ask if I’m dead or not.
“No, you shouldn’t. That should be obvious.”
Charlie looked at Jason carefully.
“How do you feel right now?”
“I don’t know. Confused, maybe?”
“No, I mean physically. Any aches and pains? Any soreness?
Jason thought for a moment. “No… I don’t think I ever felt this good.”
“Right,” said Charlie. “How was breakfast?”
“Awesome.”
“Right again,” Charlie smiled. “Let me ask you a macho question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you think you could take me?” Charlie gets up.
“What!?!”
“If I was to attack you right now, do you think you could defend yourself?”
“Uh, why would you do that? I mean, I thought…”
“This was heaven?” Charlie began to roll up his sleeves. “Yes, you are right about that. I’m afraid the religious factions on earth were terrible at describing here.”
Jason felt his stomach grow cold.
“Listen, I don’t want to hurt you...”
“That’s the spirit!” Charlie said, before throwing a haymaker at Jason.
Without thinking, Jason rose from his chair, hit Charlie three times in the abdomen before tossing him into the air to land against the opposite wall.
“Jesus Christ!”
No, no. That was all you, Jase.
Charlie brushed himself off, and walked to his desk. “Now, didn’t that feel sublime?” He sat down.
“But I didn’t mean - are you all right?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Charlie said. “I’m dead. So are you. You can’t be hurt. None of us can. Even if you wanted to hurt somebody, and you might, you won’t be able to. You can’t even hurt my feelings.”
“And that’s heaven,” Jason said.
“Oh, we’re only getting started,” said Charlie, as he lit a cigar.
|
For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of
righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17)
The Hindenberg was neither crowded nor empty. Getting a seat at the Hindenberg
required no prior reservation; you simply showed up. For the adventurous, there
was a rope bridge connecting the floating restaurant to the ground. It was
impossible to determine how high up the dirigible hovered. One could literally
spend the day in travel getting there. The view was spectacular – you could see
everything in all directions, which made the agoracoholics mad with pleasure. If
you were in a hurry, though, you took the balloon. This was a different pleasure,
although a bit disconcerting at first, especially for those who perished under
combustable circumstances.
Those who died on the Hindenberg, for example.
Many people took the bridge, while many others preferred the balloon. A matter of
taste, really. And, after your meal, some diners capped the evening off with freefall.
Parachute or no, the thrillseekers loved it to death.
The Menu was adjusted three times daily. Diners had such a variety, it was
staggering in its scope, excessive in its exhaustiveness. And yet the Menu changed.
You could say it changed by the meal; breakfast, lunch and dinner – save for the
occasional Buttermilk Pancakes with brandied syrup and fresh berries, or chicken
pot pie or Key Lime Pie. Those items were always available.
The Kitchen was a marvel of any time period, containing any and every modern and
historical conveyance, and some items in particular designed personally by the
head chef. Sub-Zeros and cold rooms, Viking stoves and brick ovens, huge butcher
blocks made from cedar, ceramic and marble, countertops made from besalt and
ten-inch thick glass. The pantry and meat lockers were so full, so much as to allow
easy access without the concern of running low. This made menu adjustment a
pleasure, as the kitchen staff of thirty-three culinary masters had every ingredient
at their disposal.
The head chef hardly ever left the kitchen. Like some mad scientist recruited to be a
field sargeant, the head chef barked out orders, sampled plates and tinkered with
devices. The kitchen of the Hindenberg was hot, yet not uncomfortably so, even
though the vehicle’s flames leaped above their heads like a storm. The head chef
was everywhere watching everything. After all, rumor has it, there was another
restaurant to beat. The head chef had never seen the kitchen on the Titanic, but it
was legend. So, no rest for the weary, Chop! Chop! People are hungry!
The kitchen was so active, spoilage was never an issue. Plates at the warming stand
were never there long because the waitstaff was exceptional. The maitre ‘d was a
Frenchman adorned in bright red like a suicidal matador and his flair for the
dramatic was evenly matched by a mercurial matter. His staff was in motion, taking
orders, securing drinks and grabbing hot plates with controlled abandon, nearly
before the command was made. If a restaurant was clockwork, the Hindenberg was
a Tag Hauer.
And still the dirigible burned on.
A live band played in the background to an unoccupied dance floor. This was
neither unusual or mundane; no one was dancing today.
“Have you ever been anywhere this fancy?” Mother Mary was placing her silky
napkin in her lap, and reaching for hor d’oueves.
“Yeah. I was with my momma. We went to a wedding, and the reception was at this
hotel in Central. That was nice, but this… is unbelievable.” For the first time in
Tyrone Johnson’s adult life, the urge to light and smoke a cigarette was supressed.
It was a marvelous sensation.
Leroy was speechless.
“Who’s footing the bill for this shindig? Hey, garcon! I want shrimp cocktail,
bruschetta and Moet to start. Be quick – there’s a tip on the line!” The Atheist
waited for his answer.
“There is no bill. Heaven has no economic structure; people do what they want,
when they want because the obstacles that curtail free will are gone. Everyone is
equal here.”
“That’s a load, Charlie. Are you telling me that if I give the waiter here a one
hundred dollar bill, he won’t care?”
“No. What I’m saying is, the waiter will accept the hundred, be pleased by it, and
continue to do what makes him happy. Which, in this case, is be a waiter.”
“Yeah? Well, I like making money, and I like to spend it. I'm gonna get something
good on this jukebox,” and the Atheist walks over to the band with a wad of cash in
his hand and song requests in his head.
Jason stirred. “Why is he here?”
“For the same reason you’re here, my peer,” Charlie replied. “You’re needed.”
“But he’s oblivious!”
“No,” said Mary, “just because he doesn’t believe in God, doesn’t mean he doesn’t
believe in anything. He probably has a stronger belief system than all of us
combined.”
“Would he have wound up here on his own?”
“Well, Tyrone, he would have made it here eventually, but certainly not here with us.
Heaven is a very big place, you know. Point out a member of the Hell’s Angels, and
you’ll have it figured.”
“Charlie,” Jason began.
“Man!” the Atheist returned to his seat and was greeted by his starters, “those
musicians are great! They knew the songs I wanted before I even called them! Better
than Letterman’s! Lemme see that bottle – Holy Cow! Is that even possible?!? Oh
well, I ‘m not paying for it, right?”
Leroy said nothing.
“Now,” Charlie began, “I know you all have your preconceived notions about all this.
And I know that you may be a little disorientated by it all-“
Leroy stirred.
“But understand, I handpicked you for this. You were chosen. So, no matter what it
is you think you know, your purpose is here. Jason understands, don’t you?
“No, but I’m beginning to.”
Charlie paused. “Mary? Will you participate?”
“Yes.”
Charlie blinked. He expected more resistance.
“Tyrone?”
“Yeah, man. Whatever. Me and ‘Roy are on board.”
“I dunno, man.”
Leroy looked up and stared at his lifelong friend.
“I mean, I really don’t know about this. Frankly, this is all some fucked-up shit in
my opinion.”
“Dammit, Leroy,” Tyrone fumed, “The nun’s right there!”
“And that’s my point, yo!” Leroy placed his hands palm faced down on the table.
“No lightning strikes, we’re trying to kill niggas with no consequence – “
“No, no, no,” Charlie interupted. “There is indeed a consequence. But this
consequence is a good one. And I only want you to kill one nigga, for the record.”
Leroy had run out of things to say.
“Look,” Charlie continued, “my job is not to convince you to do anything. I am to
recruit you, I am to train you, and I am to deploy you. That’s it.”
“No, that’s not it. You’re invested in it.” The Atheist comment was offhand, between
smacks of shrimp and cocktail sauce.
“You already told us who you are, remember? You are not removed from anything.”
“What – you told me you and I are alike,” Jason said.
“My being Lucifer’s son has nothing to do with this,” Charlie replied. “And you and I
are alike, Jason – our mothers are both human.”
Tyrone guffahed. “Man, I don’t believe. Baby mamma drama in heaven!”
Leroy was jumpstarted. “So are we special?”
Charlie smiled, and Leroy realized how much he hated that smile. “Of course you
are, Leroy. That’s why you were chosen.”
“Cut the crap, Charlie,” said the Atheist. “Answer him the right way.”
Charlie sighed. “No. You are not special in the way that Jason is special. But you are
just as important. In fact, I can’t do this without you.”
Leroy was uncomfortable. “What if I say no?”
Jason answered. “’No’ is not really an option here.”
“Sure it is,” said the Atheist. “I say NO all the time. Oh, yes, please.” The waiter
freshened his glass.
“If you say no, then you are on your own. No help, no guidance. You’ll have to
figure it out all by yourself. Now, if you were in Mother Mary’s shoes, you would be
more capable. But as a Hard Boy with a red third eye? You would be hard pressed
not to find yourself in the Asylum in the Extreme Ward with the nine elevens.”
“That sounds like a threat, boss.”
“It’s not. It’s only the facts, something I’m sure our resident Atheist can appreciate.”
When the waiter returned, they ordered their entrees in silence.
When their entrees arrived they ate in silence as well.
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