The Redemption Protocol

Perry Stenfield rubbed his eyes and stretched in the chair. He pushed his way back from the industrial green metal desk and closed the file before him. "Chock-Tastic Inc." was stenciled across the cover and a yellowing label marked "accounts" clung for dear life to the top tab. Perry pulled himself from behind the desk and sighed as his paunch settled into its accustomed place.

Standing up, Perry put the folder under his arm and walked out of the office and onto the shipping floor of the Chock-Tastic factory. Trying to get his bearings, he crossed a double yellow line painted on the floor. A two-ton forklift approached at speed.

Perry barely registered the machine's presence before the sound of its bleating horn cut through the air and its solid rubber tires squealed in response to the driver's life-saving reflexes. Perry yelped and jumped back, but the forklift was long gone in a cloud of one part exhaust, two parts profanity.

Perry caught his breath and tightened his grip on the file. Careful to stay behind the double-yellow lines this time, he made his way to a narrow steel staircase. He looked at the two stories worth of stairs he’d need to ascend, took a deep breath, and climbed.

At the top of the stairs, Perry stopped to catch his breath. Looking around, he spotted the woman with the red hard-hat he’d been working with on the far side of the factory across a narrow catwalk.

"Madeline! Madeline, I have your report ready!"

As excited as she appeared to be to see him, Perry couldn't make out her response, so he headed gingerly in her direction, along a steel gangway. The whole thing vibrated as he progressed, and he couldn’t wait to deliver his report and be gone. Accounting was not supposed to be quite this scary.

Halfway along the catwalk, Perry's passage worked free the last rusty bolt attaching a large, ancient metal sign to the side of the rail. The noise of the factory masked the snap of metal and as Perry approached it, the sign toppled over, pushing him against the rail and overbalancing him. He flipped over the rail and screamed but managed to barely catch himself with one hand on the rail.

Madeline was in a full-out sprint to get to him, but her own passage shifted the sign and it smashed into Perry's fingers. He plummeted two stories into a vat of lukewarm chocolate sauce below.

Perry struggled to the surface, but the huge sign dropped from the catwalk and smashed into his face, forcing him back under the chocolate.

The sign floated on the surface of the chocolate for a moment. Just long enough for a shocked Madeline to read, "305 days incident-free!"

# # #

Perry opened his eyes and found himself seated in a brown chair facing a thoroughly unimpressive desk in an equally unimpressive office. The surface of the desk held a paper clip, a pencil, a name plate reading, "Wilhelmina," and a pair of arms. The arms, clad in the sleeves of a green blazer, were attached to the woman behind the name plate, presumably Wilhelmina herself, seated at the business side of the desk. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun, and she had a pair of small glasses attached to a chain around her neck and perched on the end of her nose. She held a file marked "Stenfeild, Perry" in the exact same stenciling as the chocolate factory's file.

Looking over the top of her glasses, Wilhelmina spoke.

“Perry, it’s time.” she said.

“Time for what?”

“Time, Perry. Your time.”

“My time for what?”

“Holy crap, Perry, are you really this stupid?”

“What? Who are you?”

“My name is Wilhelmina,” she said.

Perry stood up; his hands curled into fists at his sides. His left eye twitched. “Listen Wilhelmina, what in the hell is going on here?”

“Well that’s the problem, Perry old buddy. Hell, heaven, I’m just waiting for The Word.”

Perry’s eye twitched again. His fingers relaxed and he dropped into the chair. “Wait, are you saying...”

“Dead, Perry. You’re dead,” Wilhelmina said. “As dead as shoulder-pads, and parachute pants. Doornail dead.”

“So, you’re the Angel of Death?”

“An,” she answered.

Perry blinked and stared. “N— what?”

Wilhelmina set the file down on her desk and sighed. She shifted her gaze to a ticker-tape machine on a small table near the corner of her desk. She turned back and leveled her gaze at Perry.

“Not 'n—' Perry,” Wilhelmina said. “‘An’ as in ‘an’ Angel of Death. As opposed to ‘THE’ Angel of Death. There are lots of us.”

“Lots? Why are there lots?”

“How many people do you think die every day, Perry? It’s a question of demand.”

Perry’s eyes glazed slightly. “But don’t you have an infinite amount of time for all of...this?”

“Even if I did have infinite time, which I don’t, I wouldn’t want to spend it all with some who died in...well, never mind all that.” She looked back at the ticker-tape machine.

Perry suddenly sat straighter in his chair. "Wait. What do you mean? How did I die? I don't remember dying."

"You don't want to think about that right now. Just focus on what comes next; we are waiting on THE WORD. If it makes you feel better, it was a pretty sweet death."

"No, it doesn't make me feel better! I didn't..."

"Hold up Perry, I'm getting THE WORD now."

The ticker-tape machine rattled to life and started spitting out its narrow ribbon of fate. Perry tried to get a look, but Wilhelmina's arm was in the way.

"What?" Wilhelmina said. "No! Unbelievable!"

Perry craned his neck to see the tape. "What is it?"

"It says 'Indeterminate.' Jeeze, Perry, couldn't you make enough of an impression on Earth to earn a clear-cut trip North or South?"

"What do you mean, 'North or South?'"

"What do you think, Perry?"

"Oh. Right."

Perry looked at Wilhelmina in a near-panic. She took a deep breath and looked back calmly.

"Listen, Perry. I've seen a lot of these cases. I think it's safe to say you should be packing for warm weather."

"What?"

"Well, here's the thing, Perry. My job is to get you where you're going. Either I send you up North where it's all fun and games, or I make you your very own custom hell where you go for all eternity."

"Don't I get an appeal?"

"Not really," said Wilhelmina.

Perry got up and paced. "But that’s not right," he said.

Wilhelmina leaned forward at the desk. "Calm down, Perry."

"No, I can't calm down! Please, God, I need a chance to make this right!"

Wilhelmina jolted in her seat as the ticker-tape machine rattled back to life and spit out a new instruction. Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes and glared at Perry.

"Now you've done it."

"What did I do?" he asked.

Wilhelmina tossed the new tape on the desk and said, "Take a look."

The tape was slightly curled, but Perry could clearly make out two words.

"Redemption Protocol."

There was a bright light, the sound of trumpets, and Perry disappeared.

# # #

Perry found himself standing next to a cross-street he had never seen before. There were trees sprinkled around the public walkways, and quaint storefronts all along the main drag. It felt like late-afternoon, and the weather was warm and pleasant, with just a hint of a breeze pushing the leaves around every now and then.

Wilhelmina was next to him, scowling.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"This is Flanders, Washington. Population, not much. This is where you will undergo the Redemption Protocol."

"Is that my second chance?"

"Yes, this is your second chance,” Wilhelmina told him through clenched teeth. “Instead of getting right to work on the eternal punishment I'm sure you deserve, I'll be giving you some tasks to complete to try to earn a trip North"

"Heaven, right?"

"'Heaven,' 'Valhalla,' 'Paradise,' I don't care what you call it, Perry, because I don't see you making it anyway. You don't have the stuff."

"Hey!"

"Whatever, Perry. Anyway, if you can't complete all of the tasks in time, I design your personal hell. I'm actually kind of good at it."

“Really?”

"Yes, really. As in ‘I REALLY don't want to waste my time with this nonsense.’” Wilhelmina paced around, "The Redemption Protocol practically never works and running it makes me mad, but you went and asked for it, so now I have to do it”

"But it's a chance, right? So, what do I do?"

Wilhelmina sighed a tiny bit longer than was strictly necessary. "Okay, Perry. You have eight hours to complete four tasks. When you finish one, you’ll be brought back to me to get the next. Fail to complete them all on time and, well, you know..."

Perry straightened up. "Okay, what's first?"

"Okay Perry, there are a million things every day that annoy or otherwise inconvenience people (kind of like you). Anyway, they might not have major consequences, but those inconveniences can accumulate and lead to anger, cruelty, and even nastier things. You need to go prevent an inconvenience for someone that would otherwise ruin their day. Have fun."

Wilhelmina disappeared.

# # #

Perry walked into the tiny town, worried he might fail the whole Redemption Protocol on the first task. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked around for inspiration. A row of cars lined up in front of parking meters gave him an idea.

Half a block down was a blue Subaru next to an expired meter. Smiling, Perry went to the meter, digging into his pockets as he went. Sadly, it seemed pocket change did not cross over to the afterlife. Perry looked along the sidewalks, for lost coins, but after an hour he hadn't found any. Perry quit walking abruptly, nearly panicked that he couldn't do something as simple as prevent a minor inconvenience.

A man walking and looking at his cellphone plowed into Perry from behind, knocking him over.

"Hey, watch where you're going, pal!" the man said.

"Me?" Perry replied. "You're the one who ran into me."

"Well you stopped dead in your tracks for no reason, what did you think was going to happen?"

Perry took a breath to respond, then nearly gagged. Looking down, he saw that he had fallen directly into a fresh sidewalk turd, left by a large and potentially unhealthy dog.

"Wow," the man said, wrinkling his nose as he caught a whiff. "I have a job interview in twenty minutes. I would have stepped right in that if I hadn't bumped into you. I take back what I said, you saved my day. Thanks, buddy!"

The man chuckled as he walked away.

Trumpets sounded in the air around Perry. A light glowed brightly, and he disappeared.

# # #

"Well that took you long enough, Perry, you blew nearly two hours on dog poo!”

Perry huffed, "This is not what I thought it would be like, you know."

"Not my problem, tough guy," Wilhelmina said. "Are you ready for your next task?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, you can always give up and go South."

"I don't think so, let's just get on with this."

"Okay Perry, here goes. Not everything that happens in this world is fair. This time, your job is to correct an injustice."

"What does that even mean? You can’t just say ‘correct an injustice,’ and send me off. It’s not fair."

"Maybe not, Perry old friend, but that’s not the injustice you need to focus on."

With that, Wilhelmina disappeared again. Perry headed back into town and randomly settled on a café. It was quiet, as he expected, but he spotted a young girl sitting by herself in a booth, looking through a pile of papers and crying.

He approached her and asked softly, "Miss, is there something I can do to help you?"

She wiped her tears and tried to get herself under control. "No, no, I'm okay. I'm okay, really."

"Well I don’t mean to pry,” Perry said, “but maybe I can help. What's your name?"

The girl took a deep breath and said, "I’m Selena Marcos."

"I'm Perry," he responded. "How can I help you, Selena? May I sit down?"

Selena nodded and he slid into the booth across from her. "Okay, what's going on."

She lifted part of the mass of papers strewn across her table. "I just don't know what went wrong. I'm being evicted tomorrow for not paying my rent, but I swear I paid it every month."

"Okay," Perry said. "How do they justify the eviction?"

"They said they did an audit. They gave me all these papers and they said I missed a month's rent last year, but I swear I didn't. I have a little girl, and we have nowhere to go!"

Tears began flowing again, and Perry passed her a napkin. "Alright, let's see if we can figure this out," Perry said. He glanced at the wall clock and saw he had just over five hours remaining, but he pushed that concern away and dove into the paper pile with gusto.

As Perry studied, Selena ordered him a coffee. After his third sip, Perry was mildly shocked to realize he even had it.

"Thanks," he told her as he made notes on a scrap of paper.

After three and a half hours, Perry's bleary eyes lit up.

"I found it, Selena! You aren't getting evicted."

"What?" she asked. Her own face was a mix of fear, excitement, and suspicion. "How? What do I do?"

"It's all in this ledger," Perry explained. "Look here and write this all down."

She grabbed her notebook and turned to a fresh page.

"Look, they said you didn't pay September rent last year. They didn't notify you, and yet they began eviction proceedings in January, saying you were three months delinquent."

"But I did pay the rent. I gave them cash like I always do."

"Right," Perry said, "and here is the receipt they gave you. Take a look at the date."

"What? It says oh-nine, oh-four, twenty, right there."

"Exactly," Perry said. "it says ‘oh-nine, oh four,’ which is September fourth to you and me. But look at this ledger from the beginning of 2021."

Selena looked, but just frowned.

"It shows two payments in April,” Perry explained. “One on the sixth, oh-four, oh-six, twenty-one, but then another on the ninth! Oh-four, oh-nine, twenty-one."

Selena scratched her head. "I couldn't have made two payments in April I don't make that much money."

"I know," Perry said, excited now. They purposely wrote the dates wrong. Your lease allows them to evict you if you’re delinquent for three months. They switched the numbers for month and day, just for that one payment, so it looks like you missed September. Then they claimed you were 'missing' a payment for three months, so they could evict you. They're probably trying to get more rent for your place."

"How can I prove this?"

"Your bank statements show you had a withdrawal for the exact amount of your rent on the morning of September fourth, the same on April sixth, but no withdrawals on the ninth." Perry stood up in triumph.

"Oh Perry! You saved us! Me, my daughter, you saved us both!" Selena jumped up in excitement.

"Give all of this to the sheriff tomorrow when he comes to evict you. I bet he’ll turn around and arrest your landlord instead."

Selena ran over to give Perry a hug, but as he spread his arms out trumpets sounded, and he disappeared.

# # #

Perry materialized with his arms stretched out and Wilhelmina in front of him.

"We don't have that kind of relationship, Perry," Wilhelmina said.

Perry put his arms down by his sides, but he still had a huge grin on his face.

"Did you see that? Did you see what I did for that girl and her daughter? I saved them!"

"That's just peachy, Perry. But you’re down to three hours, and you still have two tasks to accomplish."

"I know," Perry replied. "I'm ready, what's next?"

"Well Perry, not everyone is nice these days. For example, I just pushed you ahead to three o’clock in the morning. That’s not very nice, is it?”

“Hey!” Perry protested.

“Save it, Perry. That’s what your next task is all about. You need to inspire someone who has forgotten how to be nice, to do something nice again."

Wilhelmina disappeared.

# # #

The stars were out, and despite the challenge of finding someone to help at this late hour, Perry smiled at their beauty.

Perry heard yelling from a darkened bus station across the street. In the station yard he saw a dirty, disheveled man who could have been fifty or a hundred and fifty, angrily berating a garbage can in front of a streetlight. The clock under the streetlight told Perry he had just two hours and forty-five minutes left.

"You bastard! You take all the best cans and sandwiches! Your mom was a friggin' bedpan, you know that!"

Perry paused a moment and contemplated the man who was now staring at him.

"The hell do you want?" the man asked.

"Good question," Perry answered. "I guess I want what everyone wants. Redemption."

"Are you for real? Who the hell is supposed to redeem you? Why?"

"I really couldn't say," Perry told him. "But a guy can hope."

"Never happen," the man snorted.

"Yeah, I know," Perry said. "What's your name?"

The man crinkled his face but calmed when he saw Perry's eyes.

"I'm Todd Carpenter," he said quietly. He squinted at Perry. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Perry said. "I just figured you might not get asked that very much these days. Can I call you Todd?"

Todd replied, "Okay, I guess. Who're you?"

"I'm Perry."

Perry held out his hand to shake. Bewildered, Todd shook Perry's hand, then sat down in front of the trash can. Perry sat down in front of Todd.

"Tell me about yourself, Todd."

A tear slowly crept down Todd’s cheek and a flood of words came out. He told Perry how he was in the Army in Iraq; about an IED attack and dead friends. About a brain injury and therapy and anger and frustration and drinking and screaming and divorce and estrangement and fighting and anger and denial and anger and cruelty and anger and anger and anger and through it all, as the minutes ticked away on the clock, Perry sat and listened and never said a word.

When it was done, Todd cried. But in his tears he asked, "Why'd you come here, Perry? Who are you?"

"Me?" Perry asked. "I'm nobody. I'm just an accountant who wound up looking for redemption he's never going to get. Wilhelmina was right."

Perry saw he had just thirty minutes left. He looked at Todd, then down at himself, and he told Todd everything. The Redemption Protocol, everything.

When Perry finished, Todd looked at him closely. "Well, ain't that some shit?" he asked.

Perry burst out laughing. The clock showed thirteen minutes left.

"You know," Todd said, "I had a buddy in Iraq, Lavon. We came up through boot camp together. Real close. He was a religious fella, and when he blew up, he sorta gave me something."

Todd rooted through his pockets and continued. "I was about twenty-five yards away, running towards him when he bought it," Todd fished a small metal object out of a little bag in his sock. "This thing hit me right in the face. Stuck to me for a couple minutes, then fell off right in my hand. It's supposed to give you good luck when you travel. I mean, it didn't do much for Lavon, and you see the mess I am, but you seem like you're about to travel a bit farther than me and Lavon. I think maybe you oughta have it."

Todd reached over and pressed the scarred but still recognizable Saint Christopher's Medal into Perry's hand. Perry smiled, saw the clock declare that he had seven minutes left, and disappeared in trumpets and light.

# # #

"Oh, Perry. What am I supposed to do with you?"

Wilhelmina seemed sadder than he had expected. Perry looked closely at her.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were disappointed, Wilhelmina. You know your prediction is about to come true, right?"

"Why would I be disappointed?" she asked, but without mirth or gloating. "Besides, you still have seven minutes, you never know what kind of dumb-luck shenanigans you can come up with in seven minutes."

"I guess we need to play it out," Perry said. "What's the last task?"

"You have to perform a truly selfless act."

"Okay."

# # #

Perry appeared at the edge of a clearing, next to a small patch of woods near the park. The sky was noticeably lighter, and a sliver of sunlight was just pushing its way across the horizon. Birds sang their morning songs. A squirrel jumped from branch to branch. It stopped in a tree nearby and scolded him, as if for merely existing.

"No problem, Mr. Squirrel," Perry told it.

He disappeared.

# # #

Perry materialized back at Wilhelmina's desk.

"Well, you Borked it up, kiddo," she said.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he responded. "Now what?"

"Well, I go build your hell, I guess. I think it will have something to do with endless columns of addition where you’re not allowed to carry the one."

Perry considered that for a moment, but he wasn’t sure her heart was really in it.

"That sounds diabolical," he said, trying to help. “I'll hate it a lot.”

Wilhelmina paused a moment, then shook her head, took a deep breath, and pushed a form across the desk at Perry.

"Look, while I go build your hell, would you fill out this survey for me? I know you probably don’t really want to, but I have to give it to you anyway."

"Sure," Perry said. "No problem."

Wilhelmina pushed back from the desk and handed Perry a pen, lightly brushing against a paper tacked to her bulletin board as she walked out. The door’s closing dislodged the paper, and it drifted to the floor. Behind it was a small index card that said: "POSITIVE REVIEWS TO GET TO HEAVEN." It was old, yellowed, and clearly had not been touched in a very long time. It had dozens of squares on it filled with check marks, but a single box in the lower right corner remained unchecked.

Perry looked at his survey. It had a single question: "How did your Angel of Death do?"

Perry thought about all her snark, the less-than-helpful instructions, the pushing him forward to three in the morning. Then he thought about the sad look in her eye as she talked about designing his personal hell. Perry smiled.

He wrote three words and signed his name. As he dotted the "i" in Stenfield, the ticker-tape machine clattered to life and printed a single word. Perry looked at the tape and saw that it said, “North.”

Instantly, he was surrounded by light, trumpets sounded, and he drifted upwards through the ceiling, his eyes wide with wonder.

Wilhelmina came back into the tiny office, carrying Perry’s file. She was startled at his absence. She gazed around the room and spotted the ticker-tape readout.

Wilhelmina furrowed her brow and picked up the review from her desk. She caught her breath, smiled, looked up, and began to cry. Once more, trumpets sounded, there was a peaceful, glowing light, and Wilhelmina herself drifted upwards in pure ecstasy.

As she faded away, Perry's review drifted slowly to the surface of the desk.

It read: "Tough, but fair."