A Fate Worse Than Death by Jonathan Gould Read Free Book Online Page B

shudder less obvious.
    “Administrative bungle. By the time anyone realised what had happened, I was through the Gates and into Heaven.”
    “And once you were in Heaven, they couldn’t send you back . . . down below?”
    “Apparently not. It took ages for them to work it out. There was a big debate in the Heavenly Council about whether anyone who had passed through the Gates could be sent down below. They took a vote at the end and the no’s came up victorious. So they let me stay.”
    “You’ve got to love democracy at work.”
    “That’s pretty funny.” He paused for a moment. “You know how close it was?”
    “Only after you tell me.”
    “One vote, that’s all it was. One measly vote. Apparently it was cast by God’s own son.”
    “Jesus?”
    “No, the other one. I forget his name.”
    “I believe it’s Phil,” I said, my interest suddenly aroused. “So he’s the one you owe this stroke of luck to.”
    “Yeah,” said Alby. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Thanks to him, I get to spend eternity in this place. Thanks to him, I’m permanently stuck in this lousy dump, without even the chance of a drink to dull the pain.” Did I detect just a trace of resentment in his voice?
    “Not a big fan of Heaven?” It was less a question and more a statement of the obvious.
    “Oh no, Heaven’s a wonderful place. If you’re in any way opposed to the concept of having fun, you’ll love it here. If your main interest is extreme boredom, Heaven is definitely the place for you.”
    I was distracted from his moaning by the sound of the tavern door being forced open. I looked up to see a couple of tough-looking gentlemen stride in.
    “Cops,” muttered Alby. “Try to look inconspicuous.”
    Cops? In Heaven? What was going on here? I’d been told Heaven was a place of peace and love. If it really was so perfect here, why was there any need for law enforcement?
    There was no time to further ponder those questions. No matter how unobtrusive we made ourselves, Alby and I stood out like gorilla masks on ballet dancers, and the cops made a beeline for us. They walked past Alby and stood facing me.
    “Goodness gracious, what have we got here?” said the taller of the two. He was a lean man with a long, thin neck that made his head jut forward like a lizard’s.
    “Looks like a tramp,” said the other cop. He was stoutly built, with a face that was flat like a frying pan.
    “Sure I’m a tramp,” I said. “If you want to know the full story, I’m also a hobo, a vagrant, and a vagabond. And if you fine gentlemen are really nice to me, I’ll get you a dictionary so you can find out what those words mean.”
    “Listen, tramp, don’t try to play smart with us,” said Lizard Neck.
    “Yeah, we know all about you, Clarenden,” said Frying Pan.
    “Even if I tried to play smart, I could never be as clever as the two of you,” I said sweetly.
    This threw them. For a moment, they looked at each other in puzzlement. Then, clearly content to take my words at face value, they smiled smugly and turned back to me.
    “We’ve got some questions we’d like you to answer, Clarenden,” said Lizard Neck. “We want to know what you’re doing in Heaven.”
    “Don’t I get to speak to a lawyer first?” I said. Both cops laughed at that. Lawyers in Heaven? Even they got that joke.
    Lizard Neck took out a sheet of paper and began to read from it. “Did you, at any time during your past life, attend a church, temple, mosque, synagogue, or any other official place of worship?”
    “No,” I said.
    Frying Pan took a turn next. “Did you claim allegiance to any of the world’s established religions?”
    “No,” I said.
    Lizard Neck had a second try. “Did you at any stage donate money to charity or perform any voluntary works or good deeds?”
    “No,” I said. “Can I buy either of you boys a lemonade?”
    Lizard Neck put the piece of paper away. As he looked at me, his face twisted into an expression