The Day I Died. Part II

26 Aug

When we last left our hero, me, I was being judged to find out if I could go to heaven or not.

“OK, Kyle. That wraps up our viewing of your best moments. We’ve seen the first time you touched a boob on purpose, the time you helped that old woman change a tire on the side of the road, and several instances of you putting a penny in the ‘take a penny leave a penny’ tray at gas stations.”

“Yea, I’ve learned to sacrifice,” I say as I unscrew the light bulb from a lamp near the table and put it in my pocket. I begin to eye a jar full of cotton balls when The Doctor interrupts me.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” He says.

“We shall.”

“OK, now for your worst moments. Ready?” He begins to breath softly onto the stethoscope to warm it up. He stepped forward and put it to my chest once again.

Immediately the screen flashes an image of me pushing Editor down some stairs the morning of my accident. I stand atop the stairwell screaming “April Fool’s!” My Editor is saying something about it being August. Then I scream “August Rush!” and hit him with a guitar.

“That was a pretty mean thing to do, Kyle.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I’m trying to fit as many cotton balls in my pocket as I can.

“Kyle! Please! Pay attention. This is your eternity we’re talking about. Don’t you care at all about where you spend your afterlife?”

“Is Jesus in Heaven?”

“Well, yes.”

“Can I go somewhere else? I remember in church being told that he wants me to give him my money or go to places with stinky water. Sounds like a mooch, you know what I mean? Where’s Buddha at? He seems like a good time. Maybe Muhammad? At least hanging out with him would be like a big spiritual action movie. Can I–where’s he? Do you have like– a map?”

The Doctor stood awestruck. He put his hands in his pockets, looked at me, then off into the ceiling and back to me.

“Are you serious?”

“Depends. Are you asking me if I’m serious in a ‘No way I was thinking the same thing!’ sort of way or a ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ kind of way?”

“The second one.”

“You know what? You’re seeming pretty lame yourself. You hang out with Jesus too, I bet. He seems pretty bad at picking his crowd. He should have asked me for help. I mean–none of my friends ever had me killed.”

The Doctor stands stock still and points his finger at the door.

“Clearly you’re not ready for judgment. Hell is full up of people like you. They don’t need any more right now.”

“What happen? Bus full of scientists crash? Heyo!” I hold up my hand for a high five. The Doctor walks up to me and smacks me clean across the face, sending me spinning. Stars fill my vision and I feel as if I’m a pile of sand being blown apart.

I wake up to see the child with the phone and his parents sitting beside me. My parents, friends, and a few enemies that I guess had really been looking forward to this day are all standing around me. I’m in a hospital. The glass has been removed from my leg, stitches covering the wound.

“How did I get here?” I ask.

“Charlie came and got us,” the boy’s parents say. “We drove you to the nearest hospital. You were pretty bad off.”

“Sorry if I bled on your car. If you want, you can contact my Editor for reimbursement. If it’s really bad, he’ll replace the vehicle.” The father nods agreeably and I give them Editor’s home phone number and personal e-mail address.

“Kyle! I got here as soon I could.” It’s Editor. I close my eyes and act like I’m asleep. “Kyle, I saw you just talking to these people. Is that…is that my e-mail address written there?” I begin to make a long beeeeeeep sound in the hopes of Editor thinking I’m dead and leaving. He doesn’t.

“I told them you’d replace their car. I got blood on it.”

“Wh…Kyle, I can’t do that! We’ve talked about this. Why do you tell people stuff like th–”

“–Editor, please. I’m just fresh from the grave. I haven’t the energy to fight. Just give me a damn hug and go get me some pudding from the cafeteria.” He leans forward and gives me a hug. What a girl.

As he’s walking out the door I call out “Hey, Editor!”

“Yea?”

“Come back soon, man. I’ve been dying to talk to you.” I smile and look around the room. Everybody seems kind of disgusted. Too soon, I suppose. Too soon for me to die, as well. Let’s rock, planet Earth.

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