1615 words

A LOOK INTO THE LIFE HEREAFTER.

By Norman Oliver.

"I died this morning." Paul sighted along the pool cue, "Black in the middle pocket," he interrupted himself, then went on to explain. "Major heart operation, but it wasn't successful." The ball shot off his cue like a bullet. It struck the black which went straight into the middle pocket but was immediately followed by his cue ball.

"Oh Shit! Lost another seven points, that's finished my chance of winning this game."

"Shhhh! Shhhh!, don't let them here that language here." Paul raised his eyebrows enquiringly, as he looked over his shoulder at his old friend Ray, who was holding his index finger up to his lips. Paul could distinctly remember that Ray was known to use some very colourful language.

"That's one of the problems down here, we have to be so careful with our language. If we use bad language, we lose points and that will mean extra penalties."

As Ray bent over the table and carefully took aim, Paul walked over and put his cue in the rack. He knew Ray's skill with the pool cue meant Paul had played his last stroke of this match, so he might as well put the cue away.

"Red in top right'" said Ray "and then the black then the colours" Paul knew that unless Ray had lost his touch, the game was over.

Paul had met Ray, his boyhood friend, an hour earlier and Ray was showing him around Hell. They had come to the old billiard hall where they had misspent much of their youth. "C'mon in," Ray had teasingly said, "Let's see if you remembered all I taught you."

"What do you mean 'careful with our language,' and what's this about penalties?" Paul asked.

Ray continued taking his shots, potting the balls with all his old skill and accuracy, "I'll explain all about that later," he said "let me finish the game, it's been so many years since I've beaten you. As soon as I've finished, we'll go down to the river."

Paul let his thoughts drift back to the river where they used to swim. "Are we going swimming then?" he asked.

"Certainly" said Ray, "All the boys are there, you'll be the last one to turn up."

With that, Ray finished potting the remaining balls on the table and put his cue away. He grabbed Paul's arm and propelled him towards the door. "C'mon; let's go for a swim."

When they arrived at the river, it was exactly as Paul remembered it. About fifteen or twenty naked boys running and playing along the banks of the river. One group were swimming and splashing in the water, others were running and diving or jumping into the water off the river bank. A little way back from the bank some were standing in front of a fire to dry themselves before getting dressed again. Their school uniforms and satchels in a pile at their feet. A few were pulling on home rolled cigarettes and passing them from one to the other. They had obviously been on their way home from school and had stopped off for a swim.

The thick rope with a piece of a wood tied to the bottom was still dangling from the big tree overhanging the pool.

Paul and Ray quickly stripped off, dumping their clothes in a heap on the bank, and plunged into the pool. After a few vigorous circuits of the pool, Ray stood up. He wiped the water away from his face and said. "Oh yes, life down here is pretty good, we do all the things we used to do when we were boys. Tomorrow is Saturday, Guess where, we're going."

"Don't tell me 'The Cinema' is still there?"

"Yep" said Ray, "we still go there every Saturday, but it costs us a penalty. Remember how we used to wait until the film had started so that the lights had been turned down, then we used to get in by climbing through the toilet window at the back. Our penalty for that is that just as in the old days, we have to wait until the film has started so that we miss the first part, but now we have to stay behind after the films have finished to clean up the place."

Paul asked Ray to tell him all about the penalties.

Ray explained, "After you have had time to settle in, you'll be visited by a little old fellow called Nick. He looks up the records to see how you lived when you were on earth and gives out what he considers are appropriate penalties. Now it appears he was a bit of a devil himself when he was young, so he's not too hard on us when he thinks up a penalty."

"So what other penalties do we have to pay?" Paul asked.

"Remember how we used to go to the cattle mart and hide behind the farmers and shout bids to the auctioneer. We still go to the mart, but now we clean out the cattle stalls."

"What else" groaned Paul.

"Remember how every Sunday we used to skip church and use our collection money to play cards behind the cemetery wall. Our penalty for that is that we have to go to church every Sunday."

"And do we have to stay behind and clean up there too?" asked Paul,

"Oh no, Old Nick says having to go to church every Sunday is punishment enough." was the reply. "Apart from that, most of our old gang don't have real penalties because we weren't real criminals. Speeding tickets, drunk and disorderly now and then, a little bit of innocent tax dodging, nothing really serious."

Ray went on to explain that the petty criminals lived further along the road toward the 'GREAT BURNING FIRE'. They had much the same life as us, but their penalties were a bit harder and they had to spend one day each week cutting wood for the fire. The serious criminals lived further along the road, their penalties were harder again, and they had to spend every day cutting wood or digging coal for the fire.

"So, who actually has to feed the fire?" said Paul.

"Oh, all the really terrible work is done by the hardened criminals and of course the politicians. Their work is to stand in front of 'THE GREAT BURNING FIRE' all day, shovelling coal and throwing the timber onto the fire." replied Ray.

"Well, Hell doesn't seem all that bad to me, especially if you're not a hardened criminal or a politician." said Paul. "What is so good about Heaven, that we were supposed to behave ourselves so that we would go there when we die?"

"Ah!, said Ray, "I knew you'd ask that. There's the problem. That's where all the girls are. We are condemned to stay down here for eternity while they are all up there. I've heard that sometimes. if you look up, you will see them looking down at you, but I've never been lucky."

Paul immediately looked up. At first, he was dazzled by the unaccustomed bright light from heaven and could see nothing. Soon he could hear sweet angelic voices, then, he could very faintly make out blurred shapes moving around, all dressed in white. Although they seemed quite close, because he was looking through the clouds, his vision was blurred. "Those must be the angels," he told himself.

As he stared, the clouds slowly cleared and the blurred shapes came closer to him and looked down at him. Their pretty faces slowly became clearer. They were beautiful. He could hear them speaking to each other and gradually, he looked down at their bodies below their faces. Their white gowns were not loose flowing robes as he had imagined. Soon he could make out the shape of their bodies. Oh yes, - these beautiful angels were girls all right, no doubt about that.

He couldn't clearly hear what they were saying, but he could tell from the way they were all looking at him and then at each other, that they were talking about him.

Then, he could hear one of them whispering to the others "Shh! be quiet, HE is coming."

Paul could faintly hear the distant deep voice of a man. Then as he strained to hear, he was aware that the voice was rapidly approaching.

As Paul realized HE was coming to see him, he started to tremble with trepidation. He was going to have to do some quick thinking if he was asked to explain some of the things he had got up to during his time on earth.

Then some of the angels moved aside and a man wearing flowing white robes appeared. Paul could vaguely make out a bearded face but because of the bright light shining behind the head forming a halo, he couldn't see the details of the face. He was awe-struck as he realized what was happening and he clamped his eyes shut to avert them from HIS face.

But there was no escape The day of judgement had arrived for Paul.

The voice addressed him. "Paul Look at me."

At first, Paul kept his eyes clamped shut, then he felt a light sharp slap on each cheek and heard the voice again in a sterner more commanding tone, "Paul, look at me. Can you hear me?"

There was no way Paul could resist this command. He slowly opened his eyes.

"Hello Paul, we thought we had lost you this morning." said the surgeon.


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Copyright Ó Norman Oliver 1998

Updated September 5th 1998