Heaven on Earth
J.J Polson
(Four parts. 3000 words.)
One
It wasn’t getting to Heaven that was the problem. Not anymore anyways. Ever since God’s fortress had first been discovered, hundreds of humans congregated outside the legendary pearly gates every day. It was getting in that was the bothersome part. There were certain rules one had to follow.
The Council had wished me luck before administering the lethal injection. I hadn’t had the chance to sarcastically thank them for choosing me or to even ask if anyone had secured the proper funding to bring me back to life. Instead, rather unceremoniously, I was sent to God’s domain with the weight of humanity on my shoulders.
I strode past the protesters zealously chanting ‘Leave God in Heaven‘, made my way to the guard booth next to the glimmering gates and knocked on the glass. The eternally-posted angel lowered his glasses and stared at me for a long moment.
“Oh,” Peter said at last. “You are actually dead.”
I sighed. “I’ve been sent by the Council of Earth to speak with God.” I cut Peter off before he could go into one of his now infamous diatribes. “It’s all been arranged,” I assured him. “I’m the holiest guy in the entire world.”
With that, I dropped my Earth ID into the opening.
Peter tapped the ID with his finger, causing it to be encased in light. What had once assuredly been a sacred ritual was now little more than a show. Everyone had seen the Judgement Process hundreds of times on live feeds. After so long, all of humanity knew gaining entry to Heaven was as simple as being admitted to an advanced college course – you just had to meet the prerequisites.
“Seems to be in order,” Peter mumbled to himself. He dropped the ID back into the slot and, with a flourish, pressed the over-sized button on the counter before him.
With a peculiar grinding noise, the holy gates split open. I took a last look at the surrounding clouds known as the Edge (and at Earth far, far below) before walking back through the protesters, whistling the first verse of War Pigs by Black Sabbath.
Heralds harked at me as I walked down the central street. Like missiles, angels flew by on rented wings (it turned out you had to pay to fly). More residents chose to carry themselves in the classic fashion, on their own two feet. At least the halos were free. I promised a rather argumentative Saint stationed just inside the gates that I’d pick mine up later.
On my way to God, I passed a line of loitering angels waiting for revives. Most would eventually get the call to return back home (either in a new body or a mechanical one). For them Heaven was simply a holding pattern. Some had been here dozens of times; others were simply on vacation. None of them spared me a second glance. They knew the truth just as well I did; Earth didn’t need God anymore.
For effect, I pointed up at where the satellites were certainly watching. “You better (—) revive me,” I mouthed. I had tried to add a curse, but that annoying rumor had proven true. It was another in a long list of reasons that Heaven required new management.
I found God on a bench inside Creation Park, just where I knew he would be. His schedule was relatively unchanging. In the afternoons, he played his harp under the Tree of Life. From all accounts, he was a peace-loving soul, willing to forgive pretty much anything.
That was part of the reason he had to go.
“Uh … God,” I began uncertainly. Even now when I could watch his every move, there was something about his divine nature that unnerved me. He had created Earth after all.
God cut off mid-song (in hindsight I should have waited for the end). “Yes, my child?”
I managed an awkward smile. “There’s been a lot of talk of how you’ve been running the afterlife these days down below.”
“The same as ever,” God smiled. “The Rules of Creation cannot be changed.”
“Right,” I winked at him (another regrettable choice) and reached inside my jacket to produce an over-sized yellow envelope. God wasn’t much for technology as evidenced by the fact that the 11GLTEX13 cell signal had been blocked. Luckily, the Council had found an ancient device called a printer that could … print things onto something called paper.
“What’s this?” God asked.
“It’s a petition, signed by the eight members of the Council of Earth and twenty-two billion souls below,” I explained. “That’s eighty-one percent of the world’s living population.”
God nodded, quickly scanning the paper in what appeared to be a bemused fashion. I should have walked away then and there, but for some reason I stayed.
“We’re asking you to move out and turn control of Heaven over to the Council. The population is desperate for change in leadership in the afterlife.”
“So, it’s change you want then?” God asked, folding up the petition and sliding it back into the envelope. “Eighty-one percent of you including the leaders of all the continents want change?”
“Uh … yeah. Thus, the petition.”
“Ok,” God said, standing from his favorite bench. “I’ll take my leave then.”
I gaped. “You … will?”
“You heard me,” God said, walking off. “I’m going down below, as you say. Perhaps, in time you will petition me to come back. Until then, you’re in charge of Heaven.”
I watched him walk away in shock. I wish now that I would have had the sense to stop him, to explain that it was all an elaborate joke. For that was the real first step towards the end of Earth, and I was helpless to stop it.
Two
I didn’t believe it at first, but I was soon forced to admit that God had a plan. An actual (—) plan (No. I was never able to change any of Heaven’s rules, much to my chagrin and not for lack of trying. During my time there, I perused the endless tome containing the Rules of Creation God had mentioned to no avail).
Anyway, God’s Plan – it was as if the Divine One had been waiting for any pragmatic excuse to abandon his sacred fortress in the sky and venture to the crowded cesspool below to do some maintenance.
It was a plan I later dubbed Heaven on Earth.
As God continued to work his wonders below, Earth came to Heaven. Well, most of it. As the angel he had left in charge, I tried to keep things organized, but soon we were worse off than we had ever been before. Far worse. In a matter of days (four to be exact), Heaven morphed into a glorified slum.
By the time God found the Council of Earth, Heaven was well past maximum capacity. I had ordered angels to bar the gates, but Peter continued to control admittance with an iron hand (or an iron finger if you prefer). His guard booth was indestructible, and, even if we had managed to force him out, I’m not sure that we could have actually killed him.
Luckily, all twenty-two billion souls weren’t sent to Heaven (some found themselves in the far, far, far below). Unfortunately, all eight members of the Council of Earth were let through without question on the fifth day. I wasn’t surprised when they showed up (of course they had their paperwork in order). I was more surprised when they turned the burgeoning riots against me.
In hindsight, I should’ve seen that twist coming. Of course, it was (at least partially) my fault. I was the one who had gotten God angry by presenting him with the petition. Never mind the fact that it had been written by the Council and endorsed by most of the residents of Earth. Humans were always looking for someone to blame.
Yep. Everything that had happened to Heaven was on me.
On the seventh day, I surrendered to the insurgency. A pair of burly angels bound my wrists and threw me before the Council who had ironically set up their headquarters in the park where I had spoken with God. A dozen reporters streamed the Council hearing to the large screens I had ordered attached to the never-moving clouds above (unblocking cell service was surprisingly not against the Rules of Creation).
A few hours later, I found myself passing by Peter wearing a clunky pair of borrowed wings. Ironically, the Council had tasked me (once again) with going to speak with God. This time, I would meet him on Earth.
I had tried to tell them that they were just compounding their mistake, but they wouldn’t hear it. God had shut down the revival clinics on all eight continents, and, as the angel left in charge, I was the only one left who could travel below, the only one who could fix everything.
I stood at the Edge and let out a long sigh. Here, at least, Heaven was silent. I had long since given up whistling.
“Another petition? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
To my shock, it was Peter who had spoken. The infamous angel had joined me at the Edge. “So, you can get out of your booth.” I really wasn’t surprised. Peter was quite the (—).
“I can now. My duty here is done. God has called me down. The new Kingdom is ready.”
“Will he talk to me?” I asked.
Peter nodded. “He is expecting you.”
Three
Asking God to Leave Heaven had been a mistake. I knew asking him to leave Earth was likely an even worse one. But there I was, flying back to the land of the living with another ordinance signed by the Council and all of the countless angry residents of Heaven.
I guess I thought that I could somehow set things right, that I could convince God to reverse course, that I could put things back to (some semblance of) normal. Mostly, I thought I could go back to living my life.
I was wrong.
The return trip to Earth even started poorly. Halfway to the surface, my rental wings faltered and sent me crashing into the ground.
As I waded out of the resulting crater, I felt lucky to be alive. Then, I remembered the truth. I was dead. And since God had destroyed the revival centers, there wasn’t any chance I was ever coming back.
“What are you looking at?” I snapped as Peter effortlessly descended the last few feet to the ground. The angel had rediscovered his trademarked smirk. It had taken years of living humans gathering around the shining gates and (the temporarily) dead ones knocking impatiently on the glass of his guard booth demanding entry to make it disappear.
“Irony,” he chuckled.
“Do you know where God is?”
“I know that we are in his general vicinity.”
I sighed.
The angel adjusted his glasses. “You do realize that this is how all your problems began?”
I frowned. The short answer, of course, was yes. Irony indeed.
Turning away from Peter, I pulled the iPhone XL3 I had purchased in Heaven from my pocket and entered the passcode. Fortunately (and somewhat surprisingly), the screen hadn’t cracked during my fall.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked, peering over my shoulder.
“Using the Afterlife app to find God,” I explained impatiently. Luckily, God hadn’t bothered to knock out the cell service on Earth. It was only as I stared at the loading screen that I realized that by enabling service in Heaven, I had allowed the Council to watch my every move.
“And this application lets you … find God? How?”
“Satellites.” I titled the screen so the angel could see. “Ever since Heaven was discovered, there’s been a camera on God at all times.”
Peter chuckled again. His laugh was impossibly grating. I thought about asking him what he found so funny (again, it may have been a good idea), but I honestly just wanted to get rid of him. I wanted everything to go back to normal as soon as possible.
Humans on Earth. God in Heaven. The way things had been the first however many years of the lonely planet known as Earth.
I had never imagined I would want to go back to my boring existence so badly. That I would actually miss the overcrowded and violent world I had come to love. That I would…
Thankfully, at that moment, the app located God. He wasn’t too far away. I motioned to Peter and began to trek through the deserted city surrounding us.
When we finally came upon the Divine One, he was playing his harp on the stump of a fallen tree playing for a crowd of thousands. I couldn’t place the exact song.
“Aren’t you wondering who these people are?” Peter asked as we waded through the crowd.
“Not really,” I mumbled. “I just want to get this over with.”
“They’re the loyal ones. Those who’ve been granted Everlasting Life.”
I lost whatever it was Peter said next as the crowd broke out in polite applause. For a moment the air was filled with cries once found in the long-abandoned ritual of Sunday church service.
God called for a break as he noticed our approach, leaning his harp against the tree.
“I’ve been waiting for you, my child,” God smiled. “Do you have another petition for me?”
“Uh … yeah,” I managed (again, God was rather intimidating).
“The Council wants me to go back to Heaven I assume.”
“Not exactly,” I replied. “This time they want you gone completely. Back to wherever you came from originally.”
God laughed merrily as he read the petition. This time, he seemed to study it in great detail, tracing each line with a divine finger. By the time he was done, I knew every angry eye in Heaven was upon us.
“This time, I refuse,” God pronounced, deliberately ripping the petition into hundreds of tiny pieces and calling the wind to take them away. “Now, sit back and enjoy the rest of my show.”
I was too shocked to do otherwise.
I lost track of time during the performance, but it seemed to somehow last days (God never played the same song twice). After a fourth encore, he motioned for everyone to stand up and join hands. Looking over my shoulder, I realized that millions more had arrived (later I learned that it was actually every living soul left on Earth).
Peter then grasped my left hand firmly without asking. God took my right. A heartbeat later, I once again stood in Heaven.
Only it was empty.
God smiled. “It seems the Council found the rulebook.”
Four
In my short time away, Heaven had (somehow) fallen on even worse times. Shattered glass littered the dirty streets. Most of the buildings were only blackened shells. One of the formerly sparkling gates lay uselessly on the ground. Graffiti calling for Death to God and Hell on Earth was the only thing that looked new.
God observed the scene with a knowing smile. Then, the Divine One clapped twice and Heaven returned to its former glory, its sudden brilliance unexpectedly blinding. Yep. Just like that everything was fixed. God bowed as the crowd cheered. For some misguided reason, I chose to sigh (which, in my defense, is a really hard habit to shake).
Mid-sigh, I doubled over in pain as wings unexpectantly sprouted from my back. By the time I managed to stand up, I realized that I had been left alone with God. The Divine One eyed me with a hint of mystery in his starry pupils. At least Peter was gone.
I decided to ask the question I knew he wanted to hear. “What happened to them all?”
“What do you think happened to them?”
This time, I managed not to sigh. Instead, I shrugged.
“They wanted me dead. So, they decided to find a man who claims he can get the job done.” God looked like he expected me to know said man.
I stared at God blankly for a long moment before the answer finally arrived. “The Devil?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but it came out like one.
God only nodded.
It had been quite some time since I had thought about the Devil. As soon as mankind had discovered Heaven, the Devil had revealed the secret location of Hell. No one had really cared. The Devil had even conducted a sit-down interview explaining how God had unfairly kicked him out of Heaven (it was universally panned). He had eventually slithered back to the darkness to perpetuate his own agenda through a low-ranking podcast network.
Then, I had a revelation (the first of many). “Oh … they intentionally sent themselves to Hell by breaking the same rule the Devil did? All of them?”
Again, God nodded.
“Can the Devil actually kill you?”
“He believes that he can.” God placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come.”
It wasn’t until we arrived at the sleek-looking Gate of Hell in southern New-new Los Angeles that I realized what exactly God intended to do.
“You’re just going to … let them out?”
“I promised that I would,” God replied simply. A single golden key appeared in the Divine One’s hand as we approached the metallic gate. Living flames flickered in the darkness beyond. “It was a prophecy decreed long ago in my book.”
Ah. A book. That explained why I had never heard of the promise. I hoped I wouldn’t end up having to read it (I did end up reading it much later, somewhat of my own freewill).
God twisted the key and pulled free the lengthy metal chain wound tightly around the gate. I wondered how something so simple had managed to keep the Devil locked away. God didn’t explain.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now, we wait.”
We waited for quite some time in the center of the field where God had held his (now legendary) concert. This time, his heavenly harp played a series of mellow and heart-wrenching melodies. The notes seemed to swirl around us, blurring day and night.
When God stopped playing, we were surrounded by demons. Billions of them. Most stared at us with blood-red eyes, charred skin, and broken teeth. At the head of the massive hoard, stood the Devil himself flanked by eight ghouls I recognized as the now-defunct Council of Earth.
The Devil was the only one of them who looked remotely human. He wore a dark suit complete with a thin black tie, smoke-colored wings extending from his muscular back. Behind his midnight pupils danced living flames.
“So, we’re finally here,” the Devil smiled murderously. “You were a fool to keep your word and even more of one to only bring a single angel. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“As have I,” God said evenly. “You’ve done well convincing these people of your lie.”
The Devil frowned. “It is no lie! Today you will perish!”
Without warning, a jagged sword made of smoke appeared in his gloved hand. The Devil charged forward followed by his army of demons, their screams of rage filling the air…
… and then they were gone.
I expected to God to smile, but he did not. Instead, God turned and pointed to where the sky fortress known as Heaven descended on a platform of clouds.
My final revelation was upon me. “You … had this all planned out, didn’t you? Heaven on Earth?”
The corner of God’s lip curled slightly upward.
I spoke just as Heaven touched down. “Well, shi–”
THE END