Escaping Heaven (6 page)

“
Duh, of course not,” Bob said as they moved past even more endless people, while he brushed imaginary dust off his toga with his right hand. “It’s a job, like anything else. The only ones who’ve always been angels are the Upper Echelon, the Archangels and whatnot. Pretty much the rest of us – the Seraphim, the Erelim, the Elohim, the Ophanim, the Hashmallim, the Malakim, the whole lot of us – we’re all conscripted. We got here to Heaven and somebody looked at us and put us to use. You have a job, you have a purpose. That’s what my old man used to say… until his boss shot him in the back, of course. Oh well, can’t be helped. Everyone dies in the end.”

Jake pondered that for a minute as they continued to move through the seemingly endless hallways. In fact, Jake noticed that he didn’t seem to see much in the way of features in almost any direction he looked. There were columns, sure, and a ceiling over their head (which Jake found a little humor in, being that it was Heaven and all, and there really shouldn’t be much in the way
above
Heaven… although Jake supposed it was more of a waiting room before the whole Heaven experience) but Jake was noticing that the most defining characteristic of the place was people.

“
How many people are in here anyway?” he asked.

“
Oh, man, who can keep track any more…” Bob replied in an exasperated tone. “With so many people being born every day, the number of people dying daily grows in leaps and bounds. Heck, they built a new wing a few decades ago just to handle the influx of infants. You ever tried to tell a two-year-old to fill out paperwork?” Bob rolled his eyes in frustration. “
Night
mare. So they put up a division to take care of their paperwork for them. That way we have less to worry about, they have less to worry about, and we can all go about with our daily lives without any of the rigmarole. You ever listen to the Stones when you were back on Earth?” Bob, it seemed, had a knack for changing conversation threads on a dime.

“
What, the Rolling Stones?”

“
Yeah! Man, I do love Keith Richards.” Bob mimicked a guitar, playing a riff in the air with his hands. “Bah bah, badda dah, badadadada. I keep hoping I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna end up picking him up, but y’know, I’m convinced nothing can kill that man. He just might live forever. It is entirely possible that he is the one immortal person on the entire planet. A lot of the angels up here have a betting pool going on when he is finally going to kick, but whenever it happens, I intend to be there, if only to give him the final applause. And God bless him, too. He has made some rockin’ tunes over the years. Heck, I’m sure he made a bunch more after I died. Just wish I could hear more of them.”

Jake scratched his chin while the two continued walking along another hallway that looked absolutely identical to the last dozen or so they’d walked through. Jake wondered how anyone kept their bearings here. “So why don’t you?”

Bob stopped in his walk, turned and then looked at him with a slight scowl. “And how do you suggest I do that, hotshot? We don’t exactly have music stores here in Heaven. I’m dead, just like you, remember?”

“
Yeah, but…”

“
But what?”

“
Well, you’re on Earth all the time,” Jake explained, leaning against a wall as he talked. “Can’t you, I dunno, pick up an iPod or something? Hell, even a record player if you had to. I’m sure you can figure out some way to bring music back.”

The Cherub stared at him for almost a minute, as if in shock. “That ain’t a half bad idea…” Bob said as they started to walk again, “but y’know, I bet there’s some regulation against it somewhere.”

Jake shrugged a little bit as Bob paused to scratch himself. “Really? I can’t imagine they’d ban music. It’s one of the major joys in life. Why would anyone want to make less joy in Heaven, if this is the final resting place. You should look it up.”

“
Oy, kid, you should see these damn rulebooks. They’re the kind of thing that make accountant’s wet dreams.”

Jake laughed a little bit. He found it funny that Heaven was full of rulebooks, but it seemed like the kind of thing there’d be a way around. The more rules people write, the more holes there are in them, or so a guy he’d known in high school had always said.  “So? You’ve got time, right? What’s the harm in spending some time seeing if you can get a little bit more joy? And a little music goes a long way, in the end…”

“
That ain’t a bad point,” Bob admitted as they rounded another identical corner, entering a bigger area that was filled to the brim with people in every direction, with the exception of the one they’d come from. “And I’m not sure how often they update those books. Hmmmm…” Bob paused and then put a hand on Jake’s shoulder appreciatively. “I don’t say this often but… thanks kid. It’s a good idea. Hey, we should be getting close to your stop any minute now.”

By stop, Jake wasn’t really sure what Bob meant. All he could see in any direction was people. Some people on benches, some people in lines, some people sitting on benches who were
in
line…  “My stop?”

“
Sure, you gotta get processed like anybody else,” Bob snorted. “What, you think you just get to waltz in when there’s paperwork to be filled out? Who’s gonna fill it out? Me? I don’t think so, amigo.”

Jake and Bob finally reached what looked like a man’s back, because it was one. He could see there were people in front of the man in what looked like a line, but he couldn’t see the end of it.

“
Here we go,” Bob said. “Stand here and follow these people forward. Eventually, someone’s gonna walk by handing out forms. They always do. Make sure you get a green form, a blue form, a pink form, a yellow form, two orange forms and one of the big compendiums. Oh, and here’s my card, and your starter pamphlet,” Bob added as he jammed a card then a leaflet into Jake’s scrawny hands. “It’ll give you the basic rundown on the ins and outs to get you started.” Bob patted Jake on the shoulder. “Good luck, kid. Hope it all works out for you.” He began to walk off.

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:

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.

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T
ime passed. A lot of it. What seemed like an eternity. Then a few eternity more.

*
             
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T
ime, 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 that 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.”