RAY’S DECISION

“SEVENTH JULY, TWO THOUSAND AND SEVEN, TWELVE-ZERO-ONE TO FIVE-ZERO-ZERO POST MERIDIAN.”

The voice boomed and Raymond Mackenzie scanned the room trying to figure out where it came from. All he saw were white walls and rows and rows of thinly-padded white seats, like the one he was sitting in. It had been hours now and he’d passed the time watching the others who occupied the seats and, like him, were anxiously waiting to be called. Every now and again, the voice would make an announcement but he could discern no obvious pattern and so he could not guess when his time would come.

A few minutes later, the voice boomed again.

“TWENTIETH MAY, TWO THOUSAND AND SEVEN, EIGHT-ZERO-ONE TO ELEVEN- FIFTY-NINE, POST MERIDIAN”

Ray read the voucher which had been given to him at Clearing Stage Two. It was his turn. He’d been called. He pushed himself to his feet and quickly got into step with the dozens of others who had risen in response to the latest announcement. He made his way towards the vast row of booths about fifty yards ahead of him across a white-tiled concourse. This part of the process had been explained at Clearing Stage Two and yet knowing the procedure did nothing to lessen the apprehension he felt like a tightening vice in his lower abdomen.

As he had been instructed, he ran his voucher card through a swipe device mounted on a pillar in front of a row of about thirty booths. A read-out on the swipe unit informed him he had been allocated Booth 13. He hurried to it.

In the booth, there was one chair on his side of a white table. Across it sat a woman dressed in a white robe. Ray stood and waited until she motioned for him to sit with a graceful sweep of her left hand.

“Mr Mackenzie?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ray replied. His voice sounded thick with tension.

“Mr Raymond Mackenzie?”

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling, Raymond?”

“I’m really nervous, I’ve never done this before .... obviously.”

“I can understand your nervousness,” she replied. “This can be a rather traumatic process, however there is nothing to be gained by worrying now, what’s done is done, all we have to do now is talk you through our decision. Try to relax and we will endeavour to make this as stress-free as possible.”

It was at that moment Ray realised just how much he had riding on this little meeting.

“I’ll do my best,” Ray said hoping his best would be enough.

“I’m Mary,” she said.

“Not the Mary?” Ray asked.

“No, not the Mary,” she replied, smiling.

“Let’s get down to business,” she said. “You’re Mr. Raymond Ward Mackenzie. Can I have your voucher, please?”

Ray pushed the card across the desk. Mary produced a small pair of gold-rimmed spectacles from under the folds of her white gown and placed them on the bridge of her nose. Lifting the card, she flipped it over and then back again before looking at Ray over her glasses.

“Mackenzie, Raymond Ward,” she said. “Born March twentieth, nineteen sixty-one. The serial number is: one, four, forward slash, zero, nine, forward slash, two, zero, zero, six, dot, UK. Registration code is March twentieth, two thousand and seven, ten thirty-five post meridian.”

As Mary read out the letters and numbers, she examined the inside cover of a large leather-bound book sitting in front of her on the desk.

“Everything is in order,” she said. “So we have the right man then.” Ray nodded. “I’m sorry about these formalities,” she continued. “These checks and balances are critical. Mistakes don’t happen here very often but you can’t be too careful, especially in our line of work.”

Ray thought about this for a moment and saw the truth of it.

“I presume that the procedure was explained to you at the first two clearing stages?”

“Yes, it has,” replied Ray. “But could you explain what the serial number on my voucher means? If you’ve got the time, that is?”

“Yes, we have the time. We have an eternity ...... literally.”

Mary took Ray’s voucher and turned it over in her right hand.

“Let’s see. One, four, forward slash, zero, nine, forward slash, two, zero, zero, six, dot, UK. That means, fourteenth of September, two thousand and six in the United Kingdom.”

With raised eyebrows, Mary looked at Ray as if that had explained everything.

“I knew it was a date,” Ray replied, trying to avoid sarcasm. “But what’s the relevance?”

Mary sat silently staring at Ray for a few moments before she spoke.

“That’s the date you were pre-selected to die.”

Ray’s mouth fell open as he stared at her. She remained silent as she let him come to terms with this knowledge. Eventually he found his voice.

“Pre-selected to die? You mean I was chosen to die?” Mary’s silence was answer enough. “But .... why? Why me? And why then?”

“There is any number of reasons you might have been chosen to die at this time in your life,” said Mary. Ray felt a deep hurt welling up in him as Mary continued. “Everyone has a purpose during their time on earth. Anyone who manages to fulfil their purpose has no more need of their earthly existence and is then chosen to die. Or, to put it another way, they’re born into a utopian afterlife. Alternatively, they may be given longer if we need them to help others learn the lessons they require to achieve their purpose. Those who have not fulfilled their purpose are left on earth to continue to strive towards their destiny. If it becomes apparent that they have strayed so far from their path that they are, in effect, lost in the wilderness, or progressing at an insufficient rate, or indeed repeating the same mistakes over again, then they too will be selected to face their mortality.

“Which one am I?” asked Ray looking shattered. “I mean, why was I chosen?”

“Raymond, does it really matter? What good will it do you to know why you were chosen to die, if you’re already dead? We prefer not to get into a debate at this stage of the procedure, if you don’t mind?”

Ray struggled to find his voice. He could not make sense of the chaos of his thoughts. In that moment Ray experienced a mixture of anger and shame. He was in shock and remained silent, so Mary continued.

“Let me explain how this works. We know your life story. We have it here, in this book.” She placed her right hand on the tome. “It’s all in here. Every word you’ve uttered, every tear you’ve cried, every act and omission, every positive influence you’ve had on your world and those around you, and every negative one. We’ve reviewed both the written word and your testimony and made a decision. Now, here we are. It’s crunch time.”

Mary paused and looked at Ray with a patient and concerned smile. Ray looked at her with an air of resignation.

“So?” he said. “What’s the decision?”

After a moment, looking straight into Ray’s eyes, Mary spoke.

“Raymond, having considered your story, the decision is that you are destined to spend an eternity in ... Heaven!”

Ray jumped out of his seat and threw his hands in the air.

“Oh, thank God!” he shouted.

“Actually,” said Mary. “God doesn’t get involved at this level.”

“I wasn’t being literal,” said Ray laughing.

Mary joined in his laughter. “Oh, I see,” she said.

Ray hadn’t realised the extent to which the tension had built inside him while he waited for the decision. Now it came flooding out and he tasted hot, salty tears on his lips and tongue as they coursed down his face.

“How are you feeling?” Mary asked.

“Mixed emotions.’ Ray said. “I don’t want to be dead but I’m relieved I’m going to Heaven.”

Mary stared emotionlessly at him.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I was so afraid I was going to … ‘You-Know-Where’.”

“I’m pleased you’re pleased,” said Mary. “Now, I’m going to hand you over to Brother James for processing to the next stage. It’s unlikely we’ll meet again, so I’ll wish you well for the rest of eternity.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Ray replied. “And I really mean that.”

“Don’t thank me,” said Mary. “And I really mean that too.”

As she walked away Ray thought he perceived an odd look cross Mary’s face that he couldn’t interpret as she disappeared through the white curtain behind her. Ray sat for a few moments unsure of what to do when a figure appeared at his side. It was a small thin man of about sixty with white hair. He was dressed in a kilt and full regalia, all completely white.

“Raymond Ward Mackenzie?” the man asked.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Brother Jimmy, I believe you’re coming with me, aye?”

“You’re Scottish?”

“Aye, the Scots die too, you know, usually before everybody else.”

“Do I call you Brother Jimmy or just Jimmy?”

“We’re all Brothers here, apart from the Sisters that is, so you can drop the Brother bit. Just call me Jimmy.”

“Right, Jimmy it is,” said Ray instantly warming to his escort.

“How are you feeling?” Jimmy asked.

“Not bad, all things considered,” he replied. “It’s been a rough few days. I’ve had to come to terms with dying and then I had the stress of not knowing whether I was going to Heaven or Hell. For a while there I thought I was going to Hell, I’m so relieved.”

Jimmy stared at Ray. His gaze made him uneasy.

“What’s up?” Ray asked.

“Nothing,” Jimmy replied.

“What is it?”

“Never mind, come with me.” Jimmy led Ray down a long white walled corridor. They pushed through the doorway and began to climb a spiral staircase with shiny white walls which were bereft of any decoration or art.

“Is this us on the way up to the pearly gates to meet Saint Peter?” asked Ray with a self-satisfied grin.

“Look, Ray, I’m going to let you in on a wee secret just before you get there. I’m not supposed to talk about these things ’cause, you know, God could send me back to earth as a worm or a cockroach, or worse …. a politician. You see, it’s like this, you’ve got it all wrong, and you’re not the only one. Everybody that comes up these stairs automatically thinks the same thing. But you see, the Big Fella has got a great sense of humour. You’ve not been sent up here ’cause you’ve been a good boy. Oh no. You’re going to Heaven ’cause you’ve done something to offend him. I don’t want to know the detail, that’s your own personal business. But, well, here goes for the bad news ....... Heaven IS Hell!”

“What do you mean?” Ray uttered.

“Just as I said. Heaven is actually Hell and Hell is actually Heaven. It’s the other way about. Arse for tit, so to speak. Is that not priceless? What a sense of humour the Big Man’s got. You should meet him, you know, mind you that’s not likely where you’re going.”

“W ....w....what are you talking about,” Ray stammered, his face turning ghostly white. “I don’t understand?”

“Heaven’s a nightmare,” Jimmy said. “Take it from somebody that knows. Every day’s the same: the same hymns on a loop, played on a Hammond organ, nothing to do except sit at the feet of some disciple and listen to the same sermon day-in-day-out. There’s the same food at the same time for every meal, I mean, there’s only so much Manna you can stomach. This place is the pits. No, you take it from me, you’ve done something wrong to end up here.”

“I don’t believe it, you’re having a laugh, yeah?” Ray was expecting Jimmy to crack and when he didn’t he went cold.

“I’m telling you my friend, Heaven really is HELL! The real Heaven is down there,” Jimmy said pointing in the general direction of his feet.

“What’s down there?”

“Anything your heart desires,” Jimmy said with a smile. “Exotic food, beautiful women - or men if that’s your thing – booze when you want, great weather, absolutely anything. Honest. And if you don’t want to indulge, you just miss a day or two to get your breath back. It’s paradise.”

Ray shook his head in disbelief. “So how do you know so much about it?”

“I was there,” Jimmy whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“You were down there and now you’re up here? What happened, did Satan notice you were missing?” Ray said with absolutely no humour.

“Satan’s a myth,” mocked Jimmy. “There isn’t a devil. God controls it all, he just likes to make sure that anybody who’s led a worthy life on earth gets to indulge themselves when they give up the good fight. My story’s simple. It was a mix up with the paperwork. It doesn’t happen too often but, there you go, we’re all human. So, I was down there for about six months living an afterlife of luxury before the mistake was noticed. Ah was hobnobbing with the rich and famous, the great and the good. And you’ll never believe this? ..... I made love to Marilyn Monroe! She was magnificent.” Jimmy drifted off for a moment, a starry look in his eyes. “It was worth the two-an-a-half-day queue.”

“So, they noticed the mistake?” Ray said. “They just ignored the fact you made love to Marilyn Monroe, and gave you a job as a trustee, that it? This had better be a joke?”

“See for yourself, we’re here.”

They had arrived at the top of the spiral staircase. Ray gasped as he looked out at the scene before him. He and Jimmy were standing knee-deep in a bank of fluffy white clouds which stretched as far as the horizon. In the distance were two huge golden gates, shimmering in the sunlight. Before he could say a word and without moving a muscle he and Brother Jimmy were suddenly right in front of them.

“The gates, they’re pearly?” was all Ray could think to say.

“Aye, they sure are,” said Jimmy. “By the way, look lively, here’s Saint Peter.”

“COME, RAYMOND,” Saint Peter’s voice boomed.

The gates opened slowly and noiselessly and, again without twitching a muscle, Ray was moving slowly forward into Heaven.

“WELCOME TO THE KINGDOM, RAYMOND.”

“By the way,” said Jimmy. “He doesn’t mean Fife.”

“THANK YOU BROTHER JAMES, THAT WILL BE ALL.”

“Right, Big Peter, whatever you say. Listen, Ray, I’ll see you some time?” said Jimmy with a sympathetic smile. He waved to Ray as he was led away.

As Ray was escorted further into Heaven, the faint strains of ‘What A Friend We Have In Jesus’ could be heard being played on a Hammond organ, faint but getting louder with every passing second. Over the top of the organ music Ray heard the sound of screaming. He looked into the concerned faces of the many souls that were gathered to welcome him into heaven and, with horror, he realised the screams were his own.

Ian Ferguson

© 2014