22 January 2025
She was walking in what seemed to be a dense fog, but it only came up to her knees. It was odd, but she'd been in something like it, before. She remembered driving along the bay shore, with the fog in a flat plane just at hood level of her car. Everything above was bright and clear, and she could see the moon and tons of stars, but she couldn't see the wheels of her car, or of the other cars passing by in the opposite lane.
The difference between that time and this time is that previously there had been moon, stars, other vehicles, mountains, and buildings. Right now, there was nothing at her level, but her. The sky (if that's what one called it) was just as white and empty above as the fog was, below.
Ahead of her, a door appeared. It wasn't attached to any building, but that didn't bother her. By this time, she assumed she was dead, so how could she know what was strange, and what wasn't? There was a sign on the door that read, simply, "Come on In." Again, why worry? Whatever was beyond was something new to her. She turned the knob, and went "in."
The room she entered (and it seemed like a real room, with walls, ceiling and a floor) was bright and clean, but austere. The furnishings consisted of a metal work table, behind which sat a man and a woman in what looked like regular kitchen chairs, and a third chair facing the table on her side.
The man and the woman were looking in a large book, the only thing on the table. When he heard the door open, the man looked up and smiled at her, and said they would be with her, shortly. He motioned to the empty chair, before looking back at the book.
She sat and waited. Soon, the man and the woman looked up at her. "Joan, right?" the woman inquired, but obviously already knew.
"Yes, Joan Brookhaven."
The woman waved that off. "Surnames don't matter, anymore. Welcome, Joan. How are you?"
Joan felt quite calm, but that question flustered her a little. "Well, I assume I'm dead, so I guess I'm as good as can be expected, under the circumstances."
The man gave a brief chuckle. "Right. I guess it is a superfluous question, at this point, but it just seems like the obvious question for humans to ask one another. Taking the longer view, what did you think about your life?"
That, to Joan, seemed even more inane than the first. She shrugged.
"Right," the man repeated. "I guess that is rather meaningless, without being able to ask 'compared to what?' Well, this is just chit-chat - making you feel comfortable. We might as well get down to business. As you can see, there are two doors behind us..." The woman pulled on the man's sleeve, then whispered something to him. "Oh, right. I am getting a little ahead of myself." He turned back to the woman. "Why don't you take this part?"
The woman gave Joan a brief smile, cleared her throat, and began. "What my colleague was forgetting to explain is that all humans can be placed into one of two categories. There are millions of minor differences, but there is just one big separation. One group believes they only live once. Like all the other animals - bears, wolves, butterflies, hoary marmots, golden-mantled ground squirrels, turquoise-browed motmots ... Well, everything. They live, then die, and that's that. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, as they say. Nothing left of them, but maybe other people's memories.
"The other group has many motives - religious, metaphysical, science-fictional, just hopeful - well, they all share the belief that their lives have been too significant to just disappear without a trace. They believe that there is someone or something in control, who can bring them back to life - rebirth as the same or another human, reincarnation as some other creature, metamorphosis - well, by some means, they're still going to be around."
The man took back the explanation. "We never see anybody from the first group. They don't believe they're going to be around, and so they're not. Poof!" He made a little gesture to indicate "the poof," and followed it with a little chuckle.
"So - as you have probably guessed - it's the ones who have some expectation of future existence who sit where you're sitting. People in your category get here based on a lot of different beliefs or expectations - well, those terms are probably too precise in most cases. Let's just say 'hopes.' Looking at your record here in the book, we could make a pretty good guess at how you arrived, but it isn't relevant. Once here, everybody is treated exactly the same, and based on the one common idea you all share: you think - or hope! - that there is Someone or Something out there in control, who can make your expectations come true. Well, you're all basically correct. There is a Beyond, if you want it."
The woman took over. "And this is where we get to the two doors behind us. Everybody who sits where you're sitting will go through one of those doors."
There it is, just as I was taught, Joan thought. "Heaven, or Hell," she said, aloud.
The man and woman exchanged a look, then turned back to Joan. "We hear that a lot, from people with a certain upbringing," said the man, "But, no, neither of the doors lead to Hell."
"No?"
"Nope. Think about it. All your life you're threatened to toe the line, and behave as you're expected to. Your parents put you to bed, with the admonition that 'the Bogeyman will get you, if you don't watch out.' Well, that's probably not a good example. I always thought that was more likely to terrorize than it was to elicit good behavior. Anyway, try Santa Claus: he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake.' You better behave yourself. Do you read George Orwell? '1984?' 'Big Brother is watching you.' Then, church. Hundreds of rules, and you'll never lead a happy life if you don't try pretty hard to obey them all. And if you seriously transgress? Well, how would you like to be stripped naked, then chained to a post beside a bubbling lake of fire for the next million years, or so?
"Look, it's all about control. Hell is the ultimate invention to persuade you to do something that somebody else wants you to do, or maybe it's just to keep you on their leash. It only exists in your mind. As a human, there may be some times when you think you're in a 'living hell,' but that's as bad as it gets.
"Now, think about your Creator. He... well, she... Damn, there isn't really a good gender-neutral term, is there? The Creator certainly isn't an 'it!' Well, just think of him... Damn! Just think of the Creator as the Creator. You were created by the Creator. You didn't get to be bad or good by yourself. You were given whatever attributes you have. The Creator likes to be creative - doesn't like automatons - fools around (probably not the best terminology!) - experiments with giving different levels of independence or control, to see how humans will react. But in the end, however you live your life, the Creator always maintains the ultimate control. What I'm trying to say is that he... damn! the Creator is responsible for everything good you do, but also for everything bad. Why would you be punished - with a lake of fire, or anything else - for just acting out the life you are given?"
Joan wasn't sure she'd followed all of that, but she was glad to know that Hell wasn't going to be her future location. "So, what are the two doors about? Enter Door One, you're another human; Door Two, welcome to life as a tarantula?"
That elicited a chuckle from both the man and the woman. "We hear similar comments regularly," said the woman. "But no. The Creator creates a lot of things - animate and inanimate, animal, vegetable or mineral - but whatever is created stays as that creation. A human stays a human, no matter how many lives are lived. I see by the book that this is your fourth turn..."
"Really? I never would have guessed."
"No, you wouldn't. That's an absolute 'given:' you won't remember anything from this life just ended, or any that came before. You'll arrive through one of those doors as a brand-new baby, and everything from then on will be absolutely new."
The man interrupted. "From certain people with certain backgrounds, we get questions like, will I know my parents, or my husband? Or, there's no chance of me marrying my brother, is there? Or, am I likely to run into my 'ex' in there? Or, a really funny one: I'm not going to have to share Thanksgiving dinner with that same crowd, again, am I? Well, the answer to all of those kinds of questions or concerns is that absolutely everything is completely different. The 'old you' and the 'old them' just won't exist."
"So, let's talk specifically about the doors, so you know what your choice actually will be," the woman began, again. "First, the similarities. Either selection, you would enter as a new-born baby, and mature as a typical human being. You won't remember any of this that has come before, but life will again be pretty much as it was in the past. You will eventually die. Then, if you still hope for another life, you'll eventually find yourself back here, looking at the two doors, again.
"Now, about the differences. Behind Door One is a room pretty much the same as the one you just left. You know right now what you'd be getting into, but once you enter that 'room,' it will all be brand-new. There will be great times, and there will be awful times. There will be deep, caring love and strong friendships, but there will also be casual sex, and personal betrayals. There will be wars and famines and corrupt governments. There will be loving families, and personal successes. There will be heartbreaking losses, and unexpected joys. In other words, you'll go through pretty much what you just went through. Of course, it's a new slate, so outcomes may be quite different. But right now, you know what entering that room will lead to.
"Now, Door Two. The life inside has been designed for people who feel they've had just a little too much turmoil in the life just passed, and they'd like a little break. Well, we can't make life any different than life is meant to be, but it can be subdued. There will be bad news, but you won't be subjected to it '24-7,' as they say. It will be in the background, and you can find out about it if you want to, and you can tone it down, as much as you want. There will be unfairness, corruption, discrimination - same old wars and murders - but, again, you can tune them in or out, and you'll never be able to access the really awful stuff. You'll have adventure shows on tv, but you won't be able to get a serial killing and a brutal rape show back-to-back - you won't get them, at all, if you don't want them. Books will cover the spectrum of non-fiction and fiction, but the amount of 'excitement' and 'realism' will be somewhat limited.
"Here's an example Do you like mystery stories? Well, it doesn't matter. I do. But I prefer British mysteries over American ones. The American stories are often pretty graphic, with lots of blood, bullets, raw sex, and bad language. In British mysteries, they kill a lot of people, but they do it nicely. They emphasize the solution, not the crime. That's kind of how you can have it behind Door Two.
"Now, we haven't mentioned Sex, or only negatively. It seems likely everybody is interested in that - and why wouldn't they be? They're still human. Well, behind Door Two there are lots of loving marriages, and exciting less-formal partnerships. There are other relationship of a more illicit nature, but there aren't 'Fifty Shades;' more like five or ten. There is pornography, but of the 'softer' kind. Unfortunately, there are betrayals and failures, but that's life, isn't it?"
"One more comment," said the woman. "We've been saying that these new lives are the same as the previous ones. There is one rather subtle difference. I don't know if it will really change anything, but the Creator likes to experiment a little bit. The experiment he's been doing with every new life lately involves your brain."
"My brain?"
"Well, not just yours, obviously. Everybody's. Have you heard the claim that humans only use about 10 percent of their brain capacity?"
"Yes, but don't scientists refute that - saying that 100 percent of our brain is always available - that no part is unusable?"
"They do, and I guess they're both correct, to a certain degree. No part of a human brain is unreachable, so to speak, but the average person only accesses about ten... no, I think it's closer to 15 percent, now. That's been kind of by design. Each cycle of life, the Creator has been increasing the amount of brain power that the average human is likely to use. The Creator wants to see if more brain power changes the way humans react to situations and challenges, in either the short or long term. What I'm saying is that you won't notice any difference, obviously, but the Creator will - or hopes to, anyway.
"So, any questions?"
"No, just a clarification, I guess. Am I right that, whichever room I enter, it isn't forever? It's just a normal lifetime, whatever 'normal' is?"
"That's right. Everybody dies, then everybody who wants to, comes back, again. Do you need some time to decide?"
"Oh, no. There's never been any question for me." Joan walked over to one of the doors, and turned the handle.
***
He lay quietly. There were shapes above him, but he didn't know what they were. There were sounds coming from the shapes, but they were just sounds. He didn't know it, of course, but it wouldn't be long before those shapes began to take on characteristics, differences that he eventually would recognize as different people, and not too long after that, as people with names and personalities. In the same way, the sounds would turn into words, and the individual words would have individual meanings, and when you put the words together, they might mean something else.
But that was all in the future. For now, he just lay and looked and listened.
"Just look at him. Isn't he great?"
"That was a pretty tough birth, wasn't it? Are you okay?
"Oh, sure. But just look at him. Doesn't he look great?"
"All babies look pretty much the same, don't they?"
"Not this one. Look closer. Doesn't he look a lot like you?"
A pause.
"Well, he damn well better look like me. If he didn't, you would have some interesting explaining to do!”
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