Thursday, January 30, 2014

Go Towards The Light, Sucka - Short Story



Most people don’t realize that when you go towards the light at the moment of death that the light you see is really a big ass projector beaming down on you. It really messed me up the first time it happened. Here I was, just freshly dead from an overdose and I go towards the light like Great Gramma always told me, but there weren’t no “being” in it. I just all the sudden found myself squinting into this blinding projector light, standing on an otherwise dark and empty stage, spare dust floating through the glare.

It appeared at first that the theater was empty. Like I said, the light was in my eyes and they hadn’t adjusted yet. Hell, they was probably still dilated. And then I heard a door close and a shuffle of feet and then someone up towards the light walked in front of it for just a second and the light blinked when he did it. I followed the sound of the shuffle over there to the left and here he comes, God Almighty in an overcoat and Dockers. An older white man, kind of important looking, but for hell’s sake, an overcoat! I wasn’t sure if I should genuflect or laugh. He stopped short.

“Hello, Marvin…again,” He said with a look of disdain.

“What?” I was dumbfounded. I thought this was where I was supposed to feel all the love and acceptance and “it’s gonna be alright” stuff that Great Gramma said you feel. I felt more like “why the heck are you here?” coming from this guy. I immediately wanted to kick him. Or Him.

“Well, you’re back again. And earlier this time than last. And this one was an overdose, no less, and…”

I interrupted the Almighty berating.

“Wait, wait, wait a second, there, buddy,” I said. “Last time? What do you mean “last time”?”

I hadn’t gotten the sentence out when not only my last life had flashed in front of me, but five others, all starring me. None of them were too good, I have to admit. But no one was ever giving me a decent start, neither. I was about to point this out, that it seemed I was being born into poverty a lot when I saw them, all seated in the theater right in front of me. My family! I had heard of this from Great Gramma lots of times, how you go to the light, and then God comes to you and gives you a big hug and then you see all your dead relations comin’ at you to hug you and it’s this great reunion.

Strike three, gramma.

They were there, all right. But they weren’t smiling. I saw my favorite old uncle Bernie that died in a shootout a few years before and his arms were crossed and he was frowning and looking all perturbed. And there was Aunt Betsy that died of a heart attack at twenty seven and she was as big as always. I think she took up two theater seats. Her arms were crossed, too, and each arm looked like a dragster tire it was so big.

I couldn’t see much cuz that damned light was still blaring at me, soft ticking sound coming from I guess the film room from whence God came. That’s when I heard my favorite cousin Riley. He had been seated somewhere in the middle of the theater, maybe ten or twelve rows back. It wasn’t a huge theater, and when he stood up I could barely see him through the haze. He was sitting there with Keenan, another cousin, dead after a party in South Central L.A.

“What’s UP with you, man? You OD yourself?” He actually said, “youseff” like he always did. Guess he hadn’t changed much. “What’s up with dat?” His arms were flailing for emphasis. He did not sound friendly. I looked at God.

“That’s right, Marvin. He saw it all. They all did.” He said it kind of like he was sad, like I was the worst guy in the world. I scowled at him. “The time you stole that car? They saw it. The time you beat your mother? They saw that, too. They, we, saw it all.”

Now I was getting pissed.

“What do you mean, they saw it? Hell, they was there, man! Keenan was with me that night I stole the car, and Riley held my Mom for me when I beat her! So, yeah, they saw it, but they was there, too, so why am I getting all the rap?”

That was a good point and I figured I had God by the tail so I crossed my arms and raised my chin in my best Eastside pose.

Riley who had still been standing just let his arms go limp with a slap on his thighs. I heard a soft “damn” and he sat down heavily in his chair. God just stared at me like he was a teacher and I was a student he didn’t like much. I knew that look pretty good. He raised his bushy eyebrows.

“Marvin. See that projector?” He pointed to the light and I squinted into it. “It’s a special one. These people, your family, are here right now. This,” he dramatically raised his arms, “is real.” He dropped his arms and looked at me. “The life you lived was not “real”, as you define it. This projector puts you into a world with all these people, your family, but you are the only one truly in it. The projector is a special invention of mine that puts the world around you. It’s the ultimate virtual reality, son. These people have been dead since your first life and they did alright. They’re waiting for you.”

All I could say was, “Huh?”

God snorted at me. “Marvin. Your last five lives, as you call them, weren’t lives at all. You stand on the stage, we run the little film, and there you are. It interacts with you. Your family was all together in your first life long ago – in the 1700’s to be exact - and they passed the test. They lived correctly under those terrible circumstances. You, on the other hand, did not, as you saw in the flashback. I invented this projector as a way to give slow learners like you another chance. The souls of the people in this theater, everyone in your family, is in the “movie” with you, but only as props now – they didn’t want to go back. Why would they take a test twice? So you are the only live “actor”. You call all the shots, in reaction to what I allow to happen in the movie.” He paused and regarded me in a disgusted glare. “Are you following me here, Marvin? Am I talking slow enough for you?”

I was kind of getting it. “So, that night I beat up my mom, I did it ‘cuz she raided my stash. And you’re telling me there weren’t any stash, and Mom weren’t ever there? It was all this movie?”

“Score Bozo here a point,” he said to the crowd and everyone chuckled. I frowned.

“And here’s the rest of it. They’re waiting for you to get it right. Until you do, these people have to stay here in this theater. And worse yet, you’re the last one. You, Marvy, are holding up the whole works. They’d all be in heaven now if it weren’t for you.”

Now I was pissed.

“What kind of messed up…and don’t call me Marvy, man!” If I’d had my .45 I’d a "offed" him.

“Yes!” he yelled now. “I have to explain this to you every time, Marvy!”

Now God was thumpin’ me in the chest! I was gonna rip his finger off his hand but he made my arms not move. It went something like this.

“Everyone did fine on their first life EXCEPT (thump) for you. You’re in a group we call a family, and families don’t go to heaven until EVERYONE (another thump, dammit) passes the test. That’s the way it is,” he enunciated dramatically. “And it’s not messed up.” he sniffed, “It’s a good system and it works for most people.”

“Ok, so how many chances do I get? You gonna shut this thing down if I don’t get it right? And what’s with that damned overcoat, anyway?”

He just looked at me. He bit the inside of his lip and kind of sucked on his tooth.

“You have until your time’s up, and that ain’t long,” he said quietly. His voice was not friendly or warm.

He started walking backward from where he came, his eyes on mine. “Get it right, Marvy.”

I watched him disappear into the glare and heard his footsteps growing dimmer to the back of the theater. My dead relations still just stared or shook their nappy heads.

A door closed way in the back and I heard a muffled command.

“Roll ‘em!”

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