comedian,’ I replied.
‘Your questions will be answered soon enough. Here, sign this,’ said Roger, as he handed me the checklist.
A moment later, a light descended from the tunnel and engulfed me. Roger gave me a gentle push and we both floated up to what was no monster, but instead, as reported by Roger, a tunnel entrance. Shortly, I was floating in a circle of lights beside Roger. I was naked. He was dressed in a sheet, carrying a suitcase containing a bell and paperwork for God. Soon, I thought, not long now, any moment now, the police will come and I will be arrested. The dim lights highlighting the entrance to the tunnel became bright. I found out later, the tunnel lights always dim when approaching a dead person in the Waiting Zone so as not to scare them.
I did mention on hearing this, ‘It doesn’t work.’
From below, the sounds of Mother’s wailing drifted upwards: ‘Oh woe is me and dear is me. Whatever will the neighbours think now he has gone and died on us? They will blame my cooking for sure, I know they will. Where’s the telephone? I need to see how many people feel sorry for me.’
The Whinging Aunt from Whining Hill moaned, ‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I have to do everything!’
I saw Father in my bedroom rifling through my contacts book in which I had rated the agencies I used. Father put the book in his pocket as he lifted up my mattress and removed the magazines.
Mother justified my death by saying, ‘Any person who has sex in his parents’ bed is not worth saving; he’s lost to the Devil. I’ll have to wash the sheets now. I know I should have got his father’s gun and shot him years ago. The Adopted Ones never liked him, you know.’
Mother kicked my lifeless body, stormed out of her bedroom and headed towards the telephone. At the same time, Father left my bedroom with my contacts book and magazines.
Roger, watching the scene play out below, enquired as to whether the magazines were any good. I nodded and he shot downwards at the speed of light, returning moments later clutching a few. He opened up his suitcase, put the magazines in, and looked at me.
Then he burst out laughing. ‘I nearly forgot; cover up, man.’
He handed me a white sheet. The sheet, as it turned out, was not a sheet. Instead, it was clothing apparel made of soft cloth, the likes I had never felt. I wrapped it around me and could not help but think my appearance was now more akin to one of a Greek philosopher, not the Adonis I assumed I was.
My sheet had the word ‘Newbie’ embossed on it. ‘You look better when you have clothes on,’ Roger declared, breaking my thoughts.
‘You’re not the first person to have said that,’ I replied.
Roger gave me a smile and told me the word ‘Newbie’ stood for New Arrival to Heaven. He gave me a pat on the head and let me know he’d catch me in Heaven; others were going to look after me now. Then he was gone, up the tunnel. And then it was just me, standing in a circle of bright lights, wearing a sheet.
‘This cannot be normal behaviour!’ I shouted after him. ‘I am so going to jail when they arrest me.’
----4----
A short time after Roger, my Spirit Guide, who doesn’t guide but does eat hamburgers, had left me standing in the entrance of the tunnel to Heaven, I heard another voice say, ‘Welcome aboard the tunnel to the Kingdom of Heaven. I am the Golden Angel Jacquetta. We will be departing soon. Please sit and fasten your seat belt.’
Out of nowhere, a chair suddenly appeared in front of me. I know, you had to have been there. I looked for the owner of the voice. I couldn’t see anyone.
‘Please sit, we have to leave,’ the same voice said again, more firmly.
I sat in the chair and tightened up the seat belt. The lights outside the tunnel disappeared. There were no lights inside. I was in total darkness and I was none too happy about it. I became aware of other presences floating around me. I felt as though I was in a coma, a conscious coma, if that’s possible. They poked and prodded, and a few touched my sculptured left calf muscle. I tried to respond, but I couldn’t.
Someone said, ‘Will you get a look at the size of that? This boy can’t be human – he’s more beast.’
Someone else commented, ‘Nah he’s wearing a strap-on. Take it off.’
They drew straws to see who would take it off. Once my strap-on had been removed, another presence suggested I wear a strap-on for a reason. They all laughed. They laughed again when it was mentioned my name means disaster.
If this was the flight crew to Heaven then they needed to readjust their manners. Luckily for them I can’t get out of this chair, otherwise I’d give them what for. I won my last fight by 200 metres. As if one switch had turned off and another turned on I suddenly felt calm, relaxed. I was surrounded by beautiful presences in a place where tranquillity, peace and happiness had collided together and engulfed me. The sounds of soft harp music playing in the background soon had me asleep.
I had no idea how long I had slept, but I do remember waking to music from ‘Dancing with the Stars’. The darkness had disappeared, replaced by a faint glow existing throughout the inside of the tunnel. From what I could observe around me, which wasn’t much, I appeared to be the only person travelling. I saw a strange message scribbled on the ceiling of the tunnel. It read, ‘Bring your own linen’.
My body started to change. The flowing locks I had religiously streaked with grey dye each morning were turning black. No longer would women be able to call me the Silver Fox. Come to think of it, they never called me anything; they never called. I had to do the calling. My stomach became trim and taut, I felt muscles, which had long gone to sleep, begin to awaken. Some muscles I had forgotten I owned, emerged from their hiding place. Oddly, there was no change to my sculptured left calf muscle, developed enough, I guess.
I took stock of my situation again. According to Roger, my Spirit Guide, who in the main was useless to me, I was dead and going to Heaven because I was baptised as a Baptist. This is despite the church expelling me many years prior. Throw into the mix I’m a non-believer, and you have to agree, my résumé for getting into Heaven wasn’t strong. But what if Roger was correct in everything he said to me. On the off chance God was real, what did he look like? More to the point, who was God? What was Heaven like? Did it have racetracks? Did it have Agencies? I searched for signs on the tunnel walls to inform that angels really did do it better.
As if by magic, she appeared before me carrying a tray of drinks and food. This was no ordinary flight attendant; this was an angel of magnificent beauty. I knew she was an angel because she’d introduced herself as the Golden Angel Jacquetta. She was stunning, as if a child of God or someone from the Heavens. In another time and place, my wee-wee might have gone all hard. She was hot. On her sheet was embossed the words ‘Golden Angel Jacquetta’.
‘How are you travelling?’ she enquired.
‘I’m travelling pretty well!’ I answered. ‘I must compliment you on your wings; they’re so golden and most spectacular.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled as she offered me something from the tray.
‘How soon until we arrive in Heaven? That is where we are going, right?’ I asked.
‘It won’t be long, and yes, Heaven is our destination,’ the Golden Angel Jacquetta answered.
‘What’s the go with Heaven? Why is it only Baptists are allowed to enter, or was my Spirit Guide pulling my leg?’ I enquired.
‘No, he wasn’t pulling your leg,’ the Golden Angel Jacquetta smiled.
‘Only the Baptists are granted entry into