Authors: Steven Slavick
Roland appeared beside him. As though gauging Nick’s discomfort, he reached out and
clutched his forearm.
T
hey disappeared.
*
*
*
“Where are we?” Nina asked, walk
ing across a soft beige carpet
inside
a ranch style home
.
Although abstract art hung from the tea green walls, s
he couldn’t find one framed photog
raph in
t
his home
, and although she had stepped into four different r
ooms, each with its own ethnic
theme (Chinese, Norwegian, Venezuelan, and American), she couldn’t find a bedroom. She supposed that had something to do with not needing a bed to sleep in. Still, she
noted closed
tan-colored
blinds t
hat led to a sliding door, emphasizing
a need for privacy.
She turned back to
Mei Lee
. “You like your privacy, huh? Do you do yoga
in the
nude? A
re you a
fraid of nosy neighbors?”
Mei Lee
shook her head. “Since I’m not bound by the physical form, I don’t need to exercise.
But
I do practice yoga because it cleanses the soul
. And, no,
I’ve never practiced in the nude.” Then a look of uncertainty took hold of her. “Wait, should I? Does nude yoga add to the pleasure principle?”
“Yes, but only for Janet Jackson.” Seeing confusion register on
Mei Lee
’s face, Nina
said
. “Pleasure Principle is a song of hers.
But no, I don’t think it really helps.” Nina peered through the blinds but saw only green pastures amid rolling hills. “So why do you have curtains? You don’t have any neighbors?”
“I guess I also cl
ing to some vestige of humanity,
”
said
Mei Lee
from another room.
“Why?”
“Throughout
e
arth
’s history
, people have sought shelter from predators and the weather. In heaven, no one
needs a home, but many of us have them
because it’s one of the few things, including a blue sky, lakes of water, and material objects, that are the same for every spirit no matter how long ago they last visited
e
arth
.” She returned holding a red box.
“How did the house get here? Did you build it? And why are you living out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“I will answer about 80% of your questions, but since your fate hasn’t yet been decided, I’m not permitted to answer the rest.”
“Who said so?”
“God.”
She
sat down Indian-style, placing the
rectangular red box beside her.
“Oh,” Nina said, feeling chastised to such an extent that she decided not to push the topic.
“What’s in the box?”
“Scattergories.”
“A board game?
” Nina felt a joke coming on. “We’re in heaven, and you want to play Scattergories?”
The creative-thinking game
where, upon given a
letter
, a set of subject categories,
and
a
time limit,
player
s
score
d
points by naming
people, places,
and things that bega
n with that letter
.
“Why not?”
Mei Lee
asked with a straight face. “Would you pre
fer another game?
”
“Okay, wait. You’re telling me that when I die, I’ll be sitting around playing Scrabble and
Risk
?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Mei Lee
asked, looking offended. “Why not play a good board game among friends.”
“A board game?
”
“Yes.”
“In heaven?” s
he asked, waiting for the punch
line.
“Of course.
I’m the current record holder in our Monopoly
tournament. Each contender, after winning a game, must continue
in
consecutive
rounds
until
only
two contestants
remain.”
“So how many games did you play in a row before you won?”
“
1,412.”
Nina smiled, but the shock of hearing that anyone had played almost fifteen hundreds games of Monopoly back to back prevented her from laughing out loud. “How?”
“You’ve never played Monopoly?” Excitement bordering on hysterical joy lit
Mei Lee
’s face. “Then we must play.” She placed both hands on the g
round to lift herself to her fee
t. “You’ll get an opportunity to face the title holder.”
Almost frightened by the manic glee on Nina’s face, she placed a palm on her friend’s knee, keeping her in place. “Scattergories is fine.
But why are we playing?
”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Roland’s favorite game. He played 4,319 rounds to become the current champion.”
“You two are a real pair, aren’t you? Sitting around in heaven…playing board games.”
See
ing her friend shake her head as thou
gh disapproving of such condescension
increased the severity of her humorous fit.
“I don’t understand—”
“
Hi,
”
sai
d Nick, flanked by
Roland, as they appeared beside them
.
“All I ask is that you knock on the door,” said Mei Lee,
bolting to her feet and glaring at Roland.
“Why is that concept so difficult to understand?”
Roland shrugged. “It’s not. I just don’t see the point.”
“This is my house. It’s a matter of respect.”
“Well, it was my house first. Until you banished me from the premises.”
Nina exchanged a querulous look
with Nick, who sidestepped the arguing couple
with raised eyebrows as though expec
ting to see
plates and cups whipp
ing
through the air
at any moment. “So do you
just invade homes on principle or is this the first time?”
she asked
Nick
.
“
I hitched a ride with Roland,
” Nick said,
kneeling down beside her,
“so I’m a first-timer
.
” He looked at Mei Lee.
“
But Roland s
ure s
eems to enjoy it.
Oh, h
ere’s something I’ve been
curious about
: Roland’s twice your age. Do you have a thing for old dudes that look like Colonel Sanders?”
“It’ll probably shock you, but we are the same age as you two.”
Roland cleared his throat. “I enjoyed my time on earth best while using this appearance. Mei Lee feels the same about the features she shows to others. We have the opportunity to change our countenance at any time, but we may only do so under the guise of those we
appeared as on earth.”
“What’s going on here?
” Nick asked, disinterested.
“
Is that S
cattergories?
Now I know for sure that I’m not
in heaven. If the big Guy ever lets me in, which
is still up for debate
, I sure as hell won’t be wasting my time
pl
aying a board game.”
He
regarded Nina
. “And you still think you’v
e
passed through
the pearly gates?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You ever notice that
people only use that line in
shame? Criminals never cop to the truth.”
“This from a man who doubts he’s eligible to
enter
heaven.”
“Well, I didn’t apply, so how could I be eligible? Okay, seriously, what’s with the board game?”
“It seems Roland wants to play.”
“Really? I’ve never played it, so…why not?”
Roland’s neck craned towa
rd him with immediacy. “You’ve never played?” He looked insulted. Then he turned his attention back to
Mei Lee
and rested both hands on her shoulders. “I apologize, my love.
Next time, I promise to knock before entering.”
“Admit that you do it to rattle me.”
A sneaky smile spread across his face. “I admit to nothing.” His smile widened as he turned toward Nick and Nina and sat down beside them. He glanced up at
Mei Lee
. “Prepare for your doom.”
Mei Lee
met Nina’s gaze and sighed before taking a seat with them.
It made Nina realize that, even in heaven, men and wom
en would continue to have disagreements. “What have you been up to?”
Nick cocked his head to the side. “Just h
angin’ with Picasso, Monet,
Dali
, and my bro, Thomas Kinkade
.
”
“Oh my God, I love Kinkade. I have three of his paintings. Okay, they’re lithographs. I can’t afford his canvases.
”
Nick thought Nina was gorgeous and smart and fun, but after this admission, he found himself falling for her in a big way.
“But those other artists, too?
Were they greeted by hordes of fans, clamoring to get their pictures taken?
Wait, are there art groupies? Did they lift their shirts and ask Picasso to paint his name on their breasts?”
“Of course. I’ve done it at least a dozen times.”
She narrowed her eyes in mock anger.
In truth, she didn’t like the idea of any woman sidling up to Nick and asking for anything beyond an autograph or picture. But given his charisma, she assumed that plenty of women would definitely want more from him than just a picture or autograph. After all, she counted herself among that group.
“
We had a…I don’t know what you’d call it. You know how they have those cooking contests on reality shows? I
t was like that but with dudes holding paintbrushes…
” He paused. “
Yeah, I don’t think that could ever sound cool.”
“Well, it sounds more butch than dudes holding pots and pans.”
“So
you’re equating me with a masculine lesbian? Awesome. Thanks for reserving judgment.
But
anyway,
the
differenc
e here is that, compared to
a lot of
reality
shows, there aren’t any judges, just spectators, so it’s not really a competition. But it still sort of felt like one. Oh,
remember that portrait I couldn’t get right at the diner?”
“Yeah.”
“I perfected it. Now I can finish the landscape I was working on.”
Nina could tell by his satisfied expression that Nick felt he’d
held up well against the trio,
but she couldn’t tell how well. And she wanted to know. How could she not? He’d battled three of the most world renowned artists in history. All right, using the word
battled
may have more physical connotations than actuality, but it seemed an appropriate term when
dueling
with legends.
Upon further reflection,
she knew all too well why she resorted to words that
symbolized violence: while attempting to perform the few times in her life that she’d gotten the nerve to stand in front of an audience, Nina felt like she’
d endur
ed a public beat down that left her confidence broken and battered, even if her physical
form hadn’t suffered so much as a pinprick.
Nick didn’t seem to agonize over performing in public, and based on the shell-shocked look on his face, he surprised himself by doing better than he perhaps thought possible. It made her smile. Nina didn’t know why, but whenever she looked at him, she felt a part of her soul releasing its inhibitions. For whatever reason, whenever in his presence,
she felt her confidence overshadow
her self-doubt
, a rarity that
otherwise
only occurr
ed
when alone. It seemed that his poise had somehow brought out the best in her.