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Going Up |
| Written by C.D.Walker | |
| Monday, 18 August 2008 | |
It was her screaming “OH MY GOD JIM!” that woke me. Tracy was in the passenger seat while her husband drove the SUV I was napping in the backseat of. The blade of a snow plow coming down the road crossed into our lane, which made her yell and so rudely awaken me from my dream of the twins. My eyes opened to the ceiling, though I could make out the majestic, snow covered mountain-side out my peripheral vision. As I tried to focus on the snow covered ground, the ground started spinning. The harder I tried to see the mountain, the more it spun.
My first thought was very logical seeming, I'm on a mountain road, there will be a guard-rail. My logic was soundly defeated at the sudden feeling of weightlessness. I was laying down across the backseat with my head resting against the driver-side door. Fear gripped me and I closed my eyes. Strangely, I didn't say a prayer, and my life didn't flash before my eyes at the thought of careening down the side of a mountain while not wearing a seat belt in an SUV full of skis and booze for the weekend of fun, but I'm pretty sure I said “Oh ****.”. I know I lost consciousness on impact.
I might have woken up in a different place if I said a prayer, but upon reflection, I doubt a quick, last minute prayer, would have saved me from a lifetime of, well, living; no matter how pious the prayer. I was surprised at how fine I felt, all things considering. No breaks, aches, or bruises could be felt. A dull shadow of a light, with no source I could detect, illuminated the thin gray fog around me. Was I in a comma, or a dream caused by the accident? Standing in a fog that could be purgatory, strangely, didn't seem fun to me, so, I started walking.
Timed moved like a still night. The feeling was like walking upon the surface of a smooth lake, covered in fog, with the moon hidden, but shedding her pale light on an undeserving world. Hours or years could have passed as I wandered the wastes of my mind or through the nothing that is purgatory. Finally, a shape began to appear out of the fog. When I stumbled upon the object, the irony of life came crashing down on me for there, in front of me, was a stairway. Going up of course.
Whether or not I was in a unconscious dream, a comma, or just plain dead, my relief at the sight of the staircase going up knew no equal. Even an Atheist, I dare say, would give a sigh of relief at the specific direction. With my eyes on the stairs, I did not hear him approach so when he coughed, I jumped like a rabbit. It then occurred to me that the devil would have the politeness to cough, thus letting those unaware of his presence, know his presence. I thought my first day of hell had begun and the April Fool's joke of the staircase was just the introduction to my many torments for living like I had. The polite cough was just the start on my odyssey into Lucifer's sadistic mind. All this flashed through my mind whilst midair.
With feet moving before landing, I turned and was shocked even more by Beelzebub's twisted cruelty. Standing before me like a distinguished English gentleman, I dare say a knight among knights, a man as pure as Sir Galahad, in his 60's, with a white, short cropped, and bristly beard, with hair to match. His only blemish appeared to be his slightly receding hair-line, though it seemed to highlight those aspects that were close to perfect. As far as I could tell, he could have been any color of the rainbow because the fog drained out all color but the white of his hair. My back-pedaling was stopped mid step when my soul was stabbed by his gray eyes. Upon his side of the great divide, he pierced me eyes I cannot describe, suffice to say, I felt my soul laid bare.
To prove my point, he started laughing, and it seemed his laugh was aimed at my thoughts. Satan had no mercy. As I thought it, he laughed harder, oh the cruelty.
“Kid!” he finally barked between side splitting laughs, “Your killing me, I am Simon Peter!”.
It took a moment for me to fully understand the situation I was in. And when realization dawned on me, I just about lost it.
“Yep, sorry kid, I am St. Peter, the Gatekeeper or Key-holder to Heavens Gate, or the Pearly Gate, whatever you heard or read and have pieced together over your life.”
When I was speech capable again, I croaked, “I'm dead then?”.
“Well, maybe, maybe not. What was the last thing you remembered?”
Barely audible I replied, “The accident, the weightlessness before impact then it gets dark, then foggy.” as I look around.
“Good, look, here is how it works. You have been decent, you would not get coal, but do not expect to hit the lottery, or by lightning.” and he started laughing at some inside joke, which I could almost see the scene replayed in his downcast eyes. “Sorry, inside joke. Once, long, long ago, a preacher actually got struck by lightning. Complete accident of course, but it set us back 400 years. It took that many years of theological and dogmatic debate for everyone to realize the preacher struck by lightning really was speaking God's desires.” He looked back at me, pinning my soul inside again and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it is working with you people some times? Humans use what, 8 to 12% or their mental capacity? We laugh to no end at most of these preachers who think they have God figured out. An entity using, at best, 12% capacity has the audacity to declare it knows every wish and everything about its creator, an entity who uses 100% capacity at the least.”
“What are you saying?” I asked in obvious confusion.
“I'm just trying to alleviate your fears. Who do you think I really am, and where do you think you really are?” he answered my question with one of his own. Obviously he was saying something.
“This must be purgatory, the River Styx, or the stairway to heaven. And you are St. Peter, an original companion of Christ, first Bishop of Rome, you are credited with authoring some parts of the New Testament, a martyr, and a three time denier of Christ.” I replied, the last part I added as an afterthought, I was already dead, right?
He laughed a knowing laugh before saying, “Obviously you did not stop to think that by denying him, I learned more about him and myself? Life with something can not be fully appreciated until you live without that something and vice-versa. Like a child who must learn the dangers of fire only by being burned, humans seem to learn only by trial and error. Mostly error is seems, and certainly you humans do not learn by fully thinking through a situation. Sometimes I am amazed your kind has lasted this long and gotten up to your, at best, 12%. It took 2000 years for the majority of your kind to stop cheering at the spectacle of death, and even today, many find joy in horror, gore, and misery. But then, how else will you learn but by learning first hand how unpleasant such things truly are. I ramble about things you can barely grasp in your souls youth. You are a lucky one though. Instead of just dying, you get to take a tour, a theological history lesson of sorts. If you do well, you get to go on, if you do not, you get to go back to hell, earth, where the Lord tossed his most beloved and trusted angel, Lucifer, to reign, to do what must be done to advance and civilize humanity.”
In shock I said, “Are you telling me God sent the devil to earth to torment and enslave us, and that he didn't break ranks with the Lord?”
“This is why we laugh. You do except that God all mighty is all powerful, all knowing, omnipresent, the beginning and the end, the creator of everything and everyone from every corner of the unlimited universe, which he created I might add, by bringing order to chaos?”
“Yes.”
“How do you fight that? How do you break away from that; how do you even deny that? What you think you know, you do not really know. Already I have said too much, it is time for you to start up the steps to enlightenment. I deem you worthy of the attempt. You gave me a good laugh son, good luck, and keep an open mind, remember, you are only at 12%. Oh, here, take this.” and he handed me a grain of sand.
I didn't realize it, but by the time he had finished speaking, he had me turned back towards the stairs while he was gently, and quite firmly, pushing me towards them. “what's going to happen to me?” I asked holding the grain of sand, but he just shook his head with a steady smile, pointed and nodded up the stairs. I had found comfort in the presence of, and talking to, St. Peter and was extremely reluctant to advance into some unknown maze of tests. If this was what it took to get into heaven, why did I bother with multiple choice questions in school? Was this going to be like Hercules and his famous tasks to atone for his crimes, or more like Homer's Odyssey I wondered? With St. Peter behind me pushing, I could only go up, so I took that first step. With the accident, meeting St. Peter, and the thoughts of death, life, and afterlife running through my head, I did the only thing that was expected of me. I missed the step and fell up the stairs. Scrambling to my feet with his laughter ringing in my ears, I looked over my shoulder to say something to him, only to be greeted with nothing but the sound of his chortles. With the echo of his laugh remaining and Zepplin starting, I put the grain of sand in my pocket and trudged up the stairs. Copyright 2008 C.D.Walker |
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