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Heaven?

Where we belong...

By Kendall Defoe Published about a month ago 7 min read
11
Heaven?
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Note: I wrote this ages ago, and it seems timely as Easter approaches. I hope that the message is clear.

-KD

*

“I don’t think that I’m supposed to be here, sir.”

Peter looked up from his ledger and stared at the young boy in front of him.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I am sorry, sir, but I think that I don’t belong here.”

It had been a very easy day so far. Most of the ones who appeared before him belonged here. A flustered housewife who did try to reach her neighbour at work and was in a very bad accident was very sweet about it. The two twins who were on their first ski trip and ended up using the one broken seat on the lift were completely unprepared for this new life. But they were all ready once they understood where they were. They were all prepared for the change.

Who was this kid?

“Son, listen, I am sure you think that you are a bad person and that you deserve to be in the other place, but we are very careful about these things and you are on the list.”

“But, that is the problem. I just don’t belong…here, sir.”

At least he was polite about it.

“Would you wait here a minute, please? I will be right back.”

He was not going to really travel too far, but it was still an inconvenience for him. Who was this kid, anyway? He looked like he was barely old enough to shave or even think about driving a car; why was he doing this. As he passed by the hallway to the inner office, he shuddered a bit. He would not bring this up to the big one up there; not until it was really necessary.

Peter found the door he was looking for and knocked.

“Mary? Are you in?”

A deep silence followed; it did not fool him.

“Mary…I know that you are on today. I need…”

There was a shuffle behind the door; some papers and books seemed to be hitting the floor as she walked over quickly to see who was disturbing her afternoon.

“What? What is it?”

“Are you busy?”

“Does that matter now?”

He could see the mess in her office with the books, other items, and the papers that kept a record of…well, he was not really sure about that (her role was kept mum for most of the staff). The only thing Peter could think of was how she had handled cases like the one he now had on his hands. The new ones always melted when faced with her charms. And her beauty did not hurt, either. Would it work on a boy of that age (he would check on that again)? He had a hope.

“Okay, well, we have a situation at the gate.”

“What else is new?” She was adjusting her hair and makeup in a pocket mirror.

“Yes, well, I know that you are an expert at getting them to just come in and accept what is happening…”

The mirror closed with a sharp click.

“This again? Really?” She shut the door behind her, letting the noise echo out through the narrow hallway. “It is not a skill. It is work.”

She walked quickly ahead of him, with Peter noticing that a long set of strands were loose and waving behind her like a flag. Yeah, she would get the job done.

As he made it to the main gate, he noticed that Mary had slowed down for a moment as she looked over the young man very carefully. This was why Peter thought she was made for these moments. She would prepare herself, choosing her words and gestures very carefully, and then guide the client into the inner corridor. And then it was all over.

They really had no defenses against such a woman.

“My dear child…”

Peter looked over past Mary’s shoulder and could see that it was already working. His eyes were wide and wet, staring almost through her as she came nearer.

“Oh, my…you are…?”

“Yes, yes. But I am more interested in you. What is your name, my child?” She looked back briefly at Peter as she posed the question (should have told her first before coming down that hallway; no matter now; it was all working).

“My name is Tony, Anthony…”

“Ah, like the saint.” Mary continued to smile with that dazzle in her eyes, mouth and hair. Should he really be staring at this, Peter thought? He could not turn away now. And at least no one else was at the gate now. There would be plenty of time to see what came next.

“Saint, ma’am?”

“Saint Anthony. He became a saint in your world very quickly. The fastest one. Your mother and father were very wise to give you such a name.”

“Oh, um…” The boy seemed embarrassed now. “I never really knew my father. My mother was the one who raised us.”

“I see,” said Mary, looking very hard at the boy’s face. “You said ‘us’ just now. Was there more than one of you in the family?”

Now it was the boy’s turn to smile. “Oh, yes. There was me, my younger sister, Shelly, and my older brother, David.”

“Again, good biblical names in your family.”

“Except for Shelly. Don’t think it’s in the Bible.”

“Ah, quite so. Quite so.”

They both laughed for a moment. Peter was impressed by how well she played this one. How long would it take, though? He had other errands to do and did not the higher ups to hear that he was wasting his time on a boy.

“But I still don’t belong here…ma’am.”

It was clear that she was getting annoyed. Peter knew her too well to ignore it. But he really wanted to catch this one.

“I see. I see. You think that you do not deserve to be here.”

“No, ma’am. That is not what…that’s not it.”

“Then my dear boy,” she said, tossing back her head and smiling as deeply and as powerfully as she could, “why do you feel you do not belong here.”

The boy looked at both Peter and Mary staring down at him.

“Because I am all alone.”

They flinched at this. It was truly an unexpected response.

“One moment.” Peter ran back to his ledger and checked over some information. Mary and Anthony could only stare at him.

“My sister… She was…” The boy began to cry again.

“Yes, was taken, too.”

Mary turned quickly on the boy. “You can still come in. Don’t you want to come in?”

Anthony wiped the tears away and looked at Mary’s deep stare.

“Not without her.”

And that was all it took. The boy vanished in a simple whiff of cloud and the ground shook with the effort.

“Dammit. Just dammit all.” Peter slammed the ledger shut and kicked at the now crooked gate.

“We could not even fool a little boy. Must be losing our touch.”

“Must be.”

Mary let her hair down and readjusted her makeup.

“You know what you interrupted me doing, right?”

Peter smirked at her question.

“I heard him. You two are really something, you know that? We all took the names from those guys up there, but even I feel…”

“Oh, really, ‘Peter’? Think that the stink of this place doesn’t touch ya? Just go back and do your job.”

She turned and headed back to her space, letting her hoofs clatter on the cracked tiles as she went back inside. Peter watched her go. Maybe they would have better luck with another jealous wife in a traffic accident or more twins who stole from their parents for a trip they did not deserve. It was not very likely with the other names on the list. He did not see anyone who would be able to claim as much as that kid. But at least it was a beautiful day.

This is true...but who knows when not to bite?

*

Thank you for reading!

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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Short StoryPsychologicalHumorFantasy
11

About the Creator

Kendall Defoe

Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page.

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Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

Top insights

  1. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  2. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

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Comments (12)

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  • Shirley Belkabout a month ago

    Love the young man's pure heart. We do all need to consider life after death, as we know it. Very good read!

  • Mack D. Amesabout a month ago

    As always, you have a clever twist to the plot, leaving your readers pondering. I read other comments and saw how quickly they seemed to catch on, while it took me longer. However, I read this three days ago and have waited to comment because I've been mulling it over and searching for the right word. I finally arrived at "clever." I have an occasionally annoying tendency to read everything with literal interpretation in mind, because my father taught me that words have meaning and should be chosen carefully to express intended communication. However, he had no idea that I took that lesson, as all others, to the extreme, and it often paralyzed my comprehension of others' attempts to communicate with me, for they did not know of Dad's Commandment of Literal Expression, so they broke it. It became a nightmare of twisted unreal reality for me. I questioned everyone's written comments and doubted their intentions at every turn. To this day, unraveling my tightly wrapped thoughts is an arduous exercise I must undergo before I respond to stories, emails, and social media posts. So, yes, your story has a clever twist to it. I was tempted to find minor fault with theological liberties taken, but then I realized that this is not a theological treatise, and I like your story, so why criticize something I enjoyed so much? Besides, that "fault" would have been tied up in my previously described literalist angst, and there's no need to go down a rabbit hole like that. I love your story, Mr. Defoe, and I thank you for sharing it with us.

  • Shanicaabout a month ago

    Just awesome read. Though I felt like this is had a continuation to Part 2!

  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarranabout a month ago

    Apparently I'm the only one who doesn't get it 😅 Why the boy disappear when he said he don't wanna come in without his sister?

  • Mark Gagnonabout a month ago

    Great twist Kendall! I wasn't sure where this was going until the last couple of sentences.

  • Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a month ago

    Tricky tricky very clever twist, sir. Fun to read

  • Well hell! This isn't the Good Place! Nicely done, Kendall.

  • Martha Agnesabout a month ago

    Comment #2: Also for Easter, I just printed off the lyrics for Cohen's Halleluyah. The fave ones, that is. He wrote so many. Plannin' to sing myself to sleep.

  • Martha Agnesabout a month ago

    :)

  • John Coxabout a month ago

    Very clever and engaging tale, Kendall!

  • Leslie Writesabout a month ago

    Devilishly clever story.

  • Heather Hublerabout a month ago

    Ah, what a twist! Well played.

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