Heaven and Hell (6 page)

“You understand that Chris will have no recollection of you, or the love you shared,” said Aaron. “Even if I approached him and spoke of you, which I may not, it would mean nothing to him.”

“But perhaps, someday, he will remember,” replied Serena, tears welling up in her eyes. “I know I will never see him again. I will never get out of here. But you might see him, and if one day, by some miracle he remembers the love we shared, I want to entrust you with a message for him. Will you be able to remember it?”

Aaron smiled slightly. He knew the utter futility of this poor woman’s hopes. Nonetheless, he would humor her. It seemed the most humane course of action. “I remember every word I have ever heard. What would you have me tell him, child?”

“Tell Chris that I’m so sorry that I can’t be with him now. For the first time I’m beginning to realize the true extent of his love for me. He tried so hard to get me to believe, to get me to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. He wanted so much for us to be together in paradise, for eternity. He wanted to save me from this.”

Serena hesitated, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Tell him that it’s not his fault that I’m here, its mine. Though we might be separated for eternity, my love for him will never die, not ever. But I don’t want him to mourn for me. I want him to remember us as we were, in the stone house in Oregon. I want him to remember how wonderful life was. Tell him not to think of me as being here.”

Serena turned from the bars. “God, maybe it’s better if he doesn’t remember me.” She leaned against the cold stones of the back wall of her cell, weeping softly.

Aaron said nothing.

It was over a minute before Serena turned away from the wall. She was surprised to find Aaron still there, his eyes full of sympathy.

“I’m sorry to make such a scene,” said Serena, walking toward the bars. She extended her hand between the bars.

Aaron took her hand in his. “It’s all right, child, I understand. I promise that if one day Chris does remember you and the love you shared, if he does seek me out, I will tell him all that you have told me. I will speak of your courage, and of your love for him. After all, our God is a God of miracles.”

“Thank you,” replied Serena, as their hands parted. “Goodbye Aaron.”

Aaron only nodded as he turned to leave. As he walked down the corridor he reflected upon the fate of this poor soul left behind. A single tear welled up in his right eye. How he wished things could have been different.

Serena stood by the bars, watching Aaron walking away until she could see him no longer. She wondered just how much time remained before the demons would come for her.

“Hello,” came a greeting from the other side of the corridor.

Serena turned to see the man in the cell across from hers. Amidst the intense emotions of the moment, he had gone unnoticed.

“Hello,” she said, not quite sure what else to say.

The slender middle-aged man walked up to the bars of his cell. His dark eyes focused upon his comely companion across the corridor. His gray business suit was wrinkled and dusty. The top several buttons of his white shirt were open, and his black tie hung loosely from his neck. From his appearance and accent, Serena figured him to be of Indian descent.

“You are from my time aren’t you, 2007?”

What a strange comment. At first, Serena didn’t understand what this man was talking about. Then she glanced at her medieval attire. She managed the slightest of smiles. “Yes, I’m from 2007. I mean that’s when I, well, died.” She realized that her statement was no less strange than that of her companion. She’d have to learn to think in entirely different terms here. “I’d been at a banquet, an ARS banquet, just before I died.”

“Oh, the American Renaissance Society, I’ve heard of it. Interesting organization,” replied the dark-skinned man, nodding his head. He paused, apparently searching for the right words. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the angel,” he continued, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He reconsidered his words. “Or is it a separation? How indeed do you define our situation?”

“A nightmare,” Serena said.

“Yes,” confirmed the man, “would that it were that simple. I fear, however, that this is no simple nightmare. It is a reality beyond the veil of death, a reality that, I must admit, I was not quite prepared for.” The man paused. “Oh, but forgive me, I have not introduced myself. My name is Nari Patel, but all of my friends call me Benny.”

“I’m Serena Davis. That’s who I am, really. But they insist that I’m actually Serena Farnsworth. Farnsworth was my maiden name, you see. I guess they’ve annulled my marriage, or something like that. I remember my husband, but he doesn’t remember me. That’s what they tell me. I guess he doesn’t love me anymore either. How can you love someone who doesn’t exist for you?”

Serena’s words had taken on the rambling, disoriented aspect of one whose mind was teetering on the brink of a terrible precipice. She felt so helpless.

“Yes, I heard,” replied Benny, his tone soft and understanding. “It’s terrible what has happened to you. I only wish that I had some words of wisdom, something that might help.”

Serena couldn’t continue on with this subject. “How long have you been here, Benny?”

“I’m really not sure,” Benny said, fully understanding why his companion had changed the course of their discussion. “Long enough to have become very hungry and very thirsty. Room service here is not so good, in fact, it’s nonexistent. It has been, perhaps, two days. When I arrived, this place was mostly empty, but many people have been brought in since then, I think.”

“It’s almost full now,” Serena said.

“Then, perhaps, it will not be long before something happens,” noted Benny. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“I don’t think its good,” said Serena. “Benny, how did you come to be here?”

“I think the simple answer is that I died.” Benny did his best to add some levity to their situation. It didn’t work. “I’m sorry, Serena, I know it’s not a laughing matter.”

“It’s OK.”

Benny nodded. “Yes, let me start again. I think I got off to a bad start. I guess it all boils down to this; I hadn’t put my faith in Jesus, the Christian’s Savior. That is what I was told at my judgment. I did my best to put up a good defense at my trial. I explained that I had little exposure to the faith of Christianity until I came to your country. It really isn’t a major religion in my native India. How was I to know that it was the correct faith, the only faith? Now I’m here, separated from my wife and children forever, and for what? How was I supposed to know? Tell me that.”

Benny turned from the bars and walked to the back of his small cell. There was a long silence.

“Benny, are you OK?” asked Serena, fully realizing after she said it, that no one here could truly be OK.

“No, I don’t think so,” Benny said with a trace of anger in his voice. “Look, I don’t claim to have lived a perfect life, I certainly had my faults. I have a temper for one thing, I admit it; but I do my best to control it. I’ve never touched my wife, or my children, in any manner other than a loving one. I’ve been known to twist the truth now and again, especially with the IRS. But I’m not a thief, a murderer, or an adulterer. I’ve done my best to teach my children right from wrong. I think I did a pretty good job of it.”

Benny returned toward the bars, his face was flushed.

“So, at 47, in my office at Motorola, I have a massive heart attack. They rush me to the hospital, but I never make it there. I find myself sitting along the freeway, the pain is gone, and so is the ambulance. I try to wave down a car or two but it doesn’t work; no one sees me. Suddenly this dark vortex appears right in front of me. I didn’t want to go into it, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It was like that for me, too,” Serena said.

“It took you to that huge arena?”

Serena nodded.

“Well, I’m here to tell you, that after that wild ride through that vortex, I was pretty disoriented. I wasn’t at my best during my judgment. Still, I wonder if there was anything I could have said there that would have made a difference.”

Benny’s train of thought was interrupted as an angel marched down the corridor, with a squirming youth in his arms. The young man appeared to be about 16 or 17 years old and was dressed in a white tee shirt and black baggy pants. He was struggling wildly and crying loudly. Neither Benny nor Serena understood what the young man was yelling, it sounded like he was speaking Spanish. His voice faded slowly into the distance. The whole experience sent a chill up Serena’s spine.

Benny shook his head sadly. “I’ve seen a lot of that sort of thing in the past two days. Not everyone goes quietly. It goes on constantly, night and day. That is, if there is a night or day here.”

“It’s so unfair,” said Serena, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “How were we to know?”

“I know,” said Benny, his voice soft and understanding. “I wish I could tell my wife and children about what lies beyond death. I want to warn them, to tell them what they need to do to avoid what has happened to me, to us.”

“There’s a parable in the Bible that’s sort of like that,” Serena said. “It’s about a wealthy man and a poor beggar named Lazarus. The wealthy man had it easy in life. He lived in the lap of luxury. In his day-to-day affairs, he barely took notice of the poor leper. But then, both the wealthy man and Lazarus died. Lazarus went to his reward in Heaven, but the rich man was sentenced to eternity in Hell. The rich man was very thirsty, he begged for a drink from a nearby angel, but was refused. Then he saw Lazarus, far off in Heaven. He begged that if Lazarus could just dip his finger in a cup of water and place a single drop on his tongue, he would be eternally grateful. But the angel told him that there was a great void between him and Lazarus that could not be bridged. Then the rich man asked the angel to go back to Earth on his behalf, and warn his brothers of the terrible fate that might lie ahead of them if they didn’t mend their ways. But the angel told him that his brothers had the words of the prophets to warn them of what might lay ahead. If they didn’t heed the prophets, why should they heed a message from beyond the grave?”

“But there have been so many people who claimed to be prophets,” objected Benny. “So many of them preached conflicting messages, how were we supposed to know which ones to believe?”

“My husband used to say something about the sheep recognizing the shepherd’s voice, or something like that. I’m not the person to ask about such things. After all, I’m here with you. I sure didn’t recognize the shepherd’s voice.”

“One thing did truly frustrate me at my trial,” complained Benny. “God spoke of my shortcomings, my ‘sins’ as He called them. Apparently any sins, anything we did wrong, made us unacceptable. Without accepting Jesus, we were pretty much done for. He demanded that I be taken from His sight and into outer darkness, there to dwell with satan and his angels forever.”

“I just don’t see how my sins compare to those of satan. If I understand Christianity correctly, satan actually challenged God’s power, went to war with Him.” Benny stepped back and spread his arms. “Picture this, Serena, the rogue’s gallery of history, enemies of God and humanity. We have Nero of Rome, who horribly and sadistically killed tens of thousands of Christians in the Circus Maximus, in the name of entertainment. We have Adolph Hitler, author of the holocaust, the murderer of six million Jews in the death camps. There’s Miguel de Torquemada, who tortured to death thousands during the Spanish Inquisition. Oh, excuse me; he tortured them in the name of God, so that’s OK. Perhaps he is not here at all. And last but not least, we have Benny Patel, who knowingly cheated on his taxes. All are sentenced to the pains of Hell for all eternity. What is wrong with this picture? Am I missing something here?”

His odd discourse might have been mildly amusing, had it not been so very tragic.

“Remember, I’m here too, Benny,” Serena said in a soft voice. “I’m as guilty, no, more guilty than you. I practiced witchcraft, dishonored my mother, worshiped a pagan goddess, and committed adultery. Then I refused to accept God’s salvation through Christ, because I had become so bitter and sarcastic about how the world had treated me that I couldn’t see God’s love. Maybe I got what I deserved. Maybe Hell should be my home.”

Benny lowered his arms. He felt so very small. His careless words had just made things all the worse. “I’m sorry, Serena.”

“I wonder what it’s going to be like,” said Serena, whose mind had already wandered elsewhere. “Hell; that is. Is it a lake of fire, a huge dungeon filled with cruel and ingenious devices of torture, or what?”

“I’m afraid we’re going to find out soon enough,” replied Benny, “There’s nothing we can do about that. Why should we continue to dwell on it? Let us agree to speak of it no further. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Serena? I’d really like to get to know you better, even if we never meet again. Regardless of God’s judgment, I believe that anyone who loves her husband as deeply and sincerely as you do, is a person worth knowing.”

Serena smiled slightly. Right now, she was really thankful to have someone like Benny to keep her company. They both sat down on their cell floors and spoke of their lives—their aspirations and hopes, philosophies and attitudes, life and love, as if it still mattered. After a long time, they both curled up and fell asleep on the cold floor.