The Politics of Being Dead

By J. Higgins

Jack Harnette is about to die. But what comes next, he could never have guessed. Join Jack on his journey from the nightclubs of Hell to the courthouse of Heaven and the political steps of Mt. Olympus to a gambling den in Tauterus. He will face adversity, self-doubt, and even love. As he traverses through this world of gods and reapers, angels and demons, porn stars and party girls, he learns the secret of existence: when youre dead and know all the answers, there is no religion, only politics.
The Politics of Being Dead

Reviewed by Rabia Tanveer for Readers' Favorite

The Politics of Being Dead by J. Higgins is the story of a mans journey to the land of the dead and what he discovers. Jack Harnette could never have known what would happen to him after his death? Is there a life after death? Do you walk into the light? Well, you can imagine his surprise when he found out that there is a lot of politics after you die. There is so much going on around him and he has no idea how he can digest it. There are no religions, but there are a lot of gods and all of them want something.

If Hell has nightclubs, why would someone want to go to Heaven where there are courthouses ready to judge you? Why didnt anyone tell us that there was a gambling den in Tartarus? Although we all knew that Mount Olympus has a lot of politics, after death you get to have a front row seat to the show. Jack is going through an afterlife where there are porn stars, politicians, girls who love to party, gods, angels and demons. And oh, there are also reapers roaming around you like there is nothing wrong. When you are surrounded by all that, how can you make a decision or judge what is good for you?

This is a thoroughly entertaining novel. I loved the fact that Higgins showed a different side of the afterlife. Usually authors make it grim and so disturbing. Higgins also made it grim and disturbing, but he made it entertaining and a whole lot of fun. This is a novel that makes you want to read it again and again. An imaginative story that makes you smile a lot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514400975

Book preview

THE POLITICS OF BEING DEAD

J. Higgins

Copyright © 2015 by J. Higgins.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/19/2015

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DEDICATION

To Mandee,

You have been my pillar, my rock, and the sun to my moon - lighting my way in the dark. I love you Babe.

CONTENTS

Dedication

PART 1

Purgatory

Chapter 1     A Day in the Life

Chapter 2     Purgatory

Chapter 3     To Hell in a HandiBus

Chapter 4     The Bus Ride from Hell

Chapter 5     Only God May Judge

Chapter 6     Talking to God, and God’s Talking Back

Chapter 7     Life and Death and Job Opportunities

PART 2

Starting a Brand New Death

Chapter 8     The King of Daytime and the King of Late Night

Chapter 9     Geriatrics, Cranes, and Lining Up a Hot Date

Chapter 10   In the Garden of Weeden

Chapter 11   The King of Kings and the Lizard King

Chapter 12   Random Hearts … Spades, Diamonds, Clubs, and Those You Meet at the Zoo

Chapter 13   Round 2

PART THREE

Love, Lust, and Hatred Undying

Chapter 14   Satan Sent Me to Elysium

Chapter 15   Death’s a Beach

Chapter 16   Round 3

Chapter 17   Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned (Though Heaven Hath Exactly That)

Chapter 18   Rock-Bottom Rebound

Chapter 19   Round 4

PART FOUR

An Eternity to Decide

Chapter 20   To Love Is Divine

Chapter 21   The Vote

Chapter 22   So … My Girlfriend Found My Porn

Chapter 23   Hell Breaks Loose?

Chapter 24   Cards on the Table

Chapter 25   Round 5, Knockout!

Chapter 26   ’Til Breath Do You Part

Epilogue

PART 1

Purgatory

D eath, the final phase of life, the transition from one state of being to the unknown. It is, and always will be, a question that plagues the living. The questions seem as unending as existence itself, but the answers come up as short as time on this mortal coil. Some of the most contemplated questions pertain to what comes next. Is there a god, a devil, blackness? The living cannot see past their mortality, and the dead don’t generally answer questions. But in the end, the questions are answered by death, by the finite length of life. It is said that time is of the essence, but in actuality, the essence of life is time, and for everyone, the transition will be made. The transition is strange, and the hereafter is not quite what you might expect. There are many questions about the afterlife, which I am not knowledgeable enough to answer—I am just telling my story.

My name is Jack Harnette, and yes, I am dead. I was a thirty-six-year-old mechanic, divorced with no kids. I’m sure that you are wondering whether I was a sinner or a saint—I was a man. I drank, I gambled, I fucked, I fought. But I also helped friends in need, gave money to one or two charities, and helped little old ladies cross the street with their groceries on occasion. Now you’re curious if I made it into Heaven or to the gates of Hell, but that’s getting a little ahead of me. They say that the best place to start is the beginning, which incidentally, is my end.

Chapter 1

A Day in the Life

I t was Friday, June 13, 2003, and I kept that in mind as I dragged my ass out of bed for work that day. Upon leaving my apartment, I played with my shepherd, Duke, for five minutes, took a sip of water and grabbed a frozen waffle, then got into my red Focus and drove to work. I thought about what I may end up doing on that particular evening, seeing as it was payday. Let me rephrase that … I wondered where I was going to end up that night, as my Friday night activities rarely changed since my divorce. I planned on getting drunk and probably laid—but first came the grind.

I arrived at work and quickly realized it was going to be slow that day and that the boss was out hittin’ the links. Joe, Mike and I were keeping ourselves occupied with the various menial tasks that needed to be done, including some very routine work orders. Sometime later, I was underneath a Civic, in the middle of doing an oil change, when I heard a female voice near me. I slid out from under the vehicle to see who she was and quickly discovered this beautiful blonde woman who looked down and shot me a smile and then asked me if her car was ready.

What’cha drivin’? I asked.

The blue Camaro, she responded. I got out from under the car, stood up, and gave the once-over to this gorgeous babe—shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, a wicked smile. She was wearing a tight T-shirt with a plunging neckline, which showed off her cleavage, and her skirt sat about mid-thigh, to showcase her long legs. She looked to be in her late twenties, and I looked back into the garage to yell for Joe.

Hey, Joe. You done with that Camaro yet? Joe didn’t even bother to take his head out from the hood of the car that he was working on.

The ’87 or the ’92? he asked.

The ’87, replied the woman.

Yeah, I’m finished with it. Jack, do you want to help her with her bill? It was obvious that he had no idea what this vixen looked like. Oh well, his loss, I figured.

Sure thing, bud, I answered. I took her to the front desk and quickly found her invoice.

That’s pretty expensive, she commented when she saw the bill.

Well, I’ll tell ya what, if you give me your number and agree to come out with me tonight, I’ll see what I can do about the price. She smiled a wanton smile and wrote on the back of one of the generic business cards that we had on the desk: Debbie - 555-5982.

Do you have a number that I can reach you at? she pried.

Yeah, this is my cell number, I answered as I wrote it on another business card. She took the card from me and again turned her attention to the bill after I had given her the family discount. She looked satisfied with the alteration and gave me her credit card. As she bent over slightly more than seemed necessary to sign her copy of the invoice, I couldn’t help but notice her displayed cleavage and looked away just in time as not to get caught.

See ya later, Jack, she said, sporting a grin.

Yeah, I’ll see you tonight, Debbie! I replied and handed her the keys to her car, which was in the parking lot. She walked out the door with a sexy swagger, and I couldn’t help but notice as she glanced back at me. As she walked away, I had the feeling that I had seen her before but couldn’t place where, but figured that I would figure it out by tonight. I went back into the shop and walked directly to the vehicle that Joe was now under and loudly cleared my throat. Joe was a husky guy in his early thirties who, at that moment, had some stubble growing. He came out from under the brown Cutlass to see the grin that I was bearing.

She was a fuckin’ knockout, wasn’t she? he asked with a tone of disappointment, as we didn’t often get to interact with beautiful women at work.

Oh yes. And, my friend—I got her number. I looked up to see Mike chuckling away.

Got her number, huh? said Mike. Surprise, surprise! Mike was a big black guy in his late thirties—who was in the beginning stages of growing an afro. It wasn’t that the afro was his personal style, but for fifty bucks a person, from everybody in the shop, even the boss, he had thought it to be easy money …

By the way, Mikey, how tall is the ’fro now? I asked him with a smirk.

I guess that it’s gotta be ’bout two and a half inches tall, he replied. I can’t believe I agreed to grow it six inches! Joe and I cracked up over it. Mike just gave us the finger with a wry smile and went back to work on an old red Trans-Am. I had no sympathy for him. He and the rest of the guys laughed at me when I was bet to grow an eleven and two inch mullet!

We all went back to work, and the day continued with the usual banter. Mike said that he was going to Jefferson’s Pub that night and tried to convince Joe and me to meet him there. I told him that I more than likely had a date and probably wouldn’t be there. Joe said that he would try to make it, and Mike made a comment about Joe’s metaphorical leash. The rest of the afternoon went by fairly quickly. At the end of the day, I got changed out of my coveralls, said my good-byes, and headed home.

As I drove down the streets of Calgary, it dawned on me to check my lotto ticket and decided to park and run across the street to the nearby convenience store to check it. When I approached the intersection, I noticed a little white-haired old grandma-type lady with a cane. She was making her way across the street with very slow progress. I walked up to the woman on her left side, the opposite to the side to which she held her cane. Fortunately, the citizens of Calgary were feeling patient on the beginning of this weekend and didn’t seem to be bothered by how long this woman was taking. As I got to her side, I cleared my throat to get her attention. She turned and looked at me.

Would you like a hand crossing the street, ma’am? I asked.

Why yes, dear. I would appreciate that, she replied, sounding sincere but not surprised by my offer. This to me seemed an indication that there were still a number of Good Samaritans in the city, which seemed a reassuring thought. I stuck my arm through hers and let her use me for support.

Thank you, sir.

Not a problem. Where are you heading, ma’am?

I’m just headed to the convenience store, she responded.

What a coincidence. So am I, I replied with an easy grin.

Was it payday for you, sir? And thus, the conversation began.

Actually, it was. And please call me Jack.

Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Meola. As I held her arm, I noticed an NY logo on her handbag.

Would your handbag be from New York by any chance? I asked, just trying to make chitchat, not really knowing what else to say.

Yeah, lived there for twenty-five years. I just came home two years ago after my husband passed away.

I’m very sorry to hear that.

Ah, don’t be. He was an old fart, and he lived a good life. I was with the man for sixty-one years, and we hardly spent a night apart. I needed the break! She kind of chuckled for a moment. Besides, I’ll see my Charlie again soon enough!

Couldn’t mean it. You’ve gotta have twenty years left in ya!

Jack, I told you that Charlie was an old fart. Well, I’m older than he was! Besides, death isn’t anything unpleasant or to be feared. It happens to us all and should be celebrated, not mourned. When you get to be my age, Jack, you realize that you live and die just like everyone and everything. It’s a cycle, something dies, causing the birth and renewal of something else. A person is born who adds to the world both physically and socially. Then they have children, continuing the cycle. Then comes death. You live in this world forever through your children. And I don’t personally believe that death can be a bad thing as it’s just part of the cycle. I mean, what would be the point in that? By this point, we were almost across the street, and for the most part, the cars seemed patient (and good on ’em).

I see your point, but it still worries me a little. I thought for a moment about what Meola had said and how she had said it. Are you religious? I pried.

God no! she replied almost playfully. I’m agnostic. She laughed. I must have looked a little perplexed when I asked her what agnostic meant.

Sweetie, it means that I believe in something. I’m just not quite sure what that is. But I do know that I’ll see my Charlie again. She paused in consideration for a moment. Of course, I do have my own theories about what might come next, though I wouldn’t presume to keep faith in them. Personally, I think that it’s a little arrogant to presume to tell people what the ‘truth’ is and try to scare them into following it. People should listen to their hearts and think freely about their mortality, not listen to some stuffy, stuck-up old fool who professes that only his followers will be rewarded at death. Considering how many people and different faiths there are in this world, it’s a pretty bleak prospect for the majority of our race if there were only one true faith. I can’t see any creator being so callous.

I can agree with that. But what are your theories on what comes next?

Well, I’ve often considered reincarnation. And if that were true, I feel a deep connection to the forests. I wonder if I may have been a druid once in a former life. Does that sound crazy?

Not at all. I was intrigued by the conversation. Little did I know that the topic of this discussion would soon be the essence of my existence, and this deliberation would come to be answered more quickly than I could possibly realize.

Although, she continued, I’ve always believed in ghosts. I’ve often wondered if, when we die, we all just become spirits. She suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked up at me. And don’t tell me that they’re not real. I’ve seen two in my life! she said with a little piss and vinegar.

I wouldn’t presume to say otherwise, I replied with a grin. But the thought of everyone becoming a ghost after we die seems a little bleak, don’t you think?

Not the way I see it. I mean, if you can interact with those you love still, I couldn’t see it being lonely. In fact, what if there are ghost cities all around us that we can’t see? Maybe they can’t see us, for the most part, either.

I can honestly say that I’ve never in my life considered that before! I don’t think that I’ve spent enough time in my life thinking about what comes next. I probably should.

Nonsense. You’re too young to indulge the mind in death yet. You’ve far too much life to live to waste it with these morbid thoughts … but for a woman of my years, it’s all right! she said, smiling.

You’re probably right. But all the same, it still intrigues a younger mind to consider.

Well, I guess there’s no arguing that! She took a moment before speaking again, and when she did, decided to switch the subject. So are you taking a young lady out on the town tonight, Jack? I chuckled a little when she asked me.

As a matter of fact, I’m meeting a woman this evening. At this moment, we were entering the store.

Hoping to get a little nooky tonight? She practically grinned the words from her mouth. The sentence had me shocked, and I was at a loss for words. I just didn’t expect that question coming from a dear, sweet-looking old lady. She saw the look of shock on my face. I was young once too, Jack … I know what happens between a man and a woman! Although it wasn’t as acceptable, but that doesn’t stop randy young people now, does it?

No, I guess not, I answered slowly.

Well, enjoy it while you can ’cause when you get to my age, all you can do is to live vicariously through young people. Getting back on topic, is that your plan for tonight?

Uhh, uhmm … I guess, if I play my cards right! I managed to stammer out of my mouth.

Well, good, I hope you score! At that moment, I could have shit myself laughing but managed to contain myself to a chuckle. Oh, Jack. Would you happen to have a cell phone on you?

Yes, I do.

Could you possibly do me a favour and call me a cab?

Yeah, not a problem. I pulled out my cell and scanned through my list until I got to the number of a cab company. I then handed Meola the phone. Might be easier if you talk to them. Just press the green send button. As she called for the cab, I went to the till where a pretty young high school girl was preparing to serve me. I asked her to check my lotto ticket for me. It was a loser, so I asked her to get one for tomorrow’s draw, telling her I had a good feeling about it. She smiled what seemed to me a smitten smile and complied.

That’ll be five dollars, please, she said, sweet as sugar. I gave her ten bucks, and when she handed me my change, I put all of it in the charity box that was on the counter and picked up my ticket.

Thanks, I said to the girl with a polite smile. Once again, I turned my attention to Meola, who handed me back the phone.

Thank you, Jack.

Think nothing of it, I replied. Do you still need a hand with anything?

No, that’ll be all right. Besides, an old lady still needs some independence! And it’ll also be a bit of time before the cab shows up anyway.

You’re sure?

I’m positive. Thank you very much for your help.

You’re very welcome, and it was nice to meet you.

Bye, Jack. I started to walk away when she called to me. And remember, Jack. I turned to look at her. Don’t drink and drive—it would be a waste of that nice tight ass of yours! I’ll admit that I was more than a little stunned. Even the young cashier seemed to blush a little.

See you ’round, Meola was all I managed to say. I left the store and wasn’t sure what to think, as that entire meeting had been the most interesting part of my day. I just laughed to myself and drove home.

Upon entering my apartment, I was greeted by Duke, who was extremely excited to see me. He jumped up on me and wagged his tail energetically, trying to lick my face. I rubbed behind his ears and spoke in an embarrassing tone that I had hoped never to get caught using. I then jumped into the shower, and once I was clean, I put on some lay about clothes, picked up my Telecaster, and turned on the TV. I turned it on at the middle of the second round of a rerun boxing matchup to watch two young Latino fighters in the middle of a spirited fray. By the end of the fifth round, I didn’t have a clue as to whom might win this prize fight, and that was when my cell rang.

Hey, Jack. What’s goin’ on, man? It was Mike.

Not much, buddy. I’m just watching some boxing.

Is it, by any chance, that fight between Garcia and Santiago?

Yeah, actually, it is.

That’s one hell of a match. I caught it last night. But do yourself a favour and skip the main event! The one you’re watching is the only fight on the card worth the time!

Gotcha. So what’s up, Mikey?

I was just seeing if you’re still goin’ out with that chick tonight.

Well, I haven’t actually talked to her yet, so I’m not entirely sure, but that’s still the plan of the night.

If things fall through, both me and Joe will be at Jefferson’s tonight, all right?

That’s good to know, but I’m pretty sure that I’ll be seeing Debbie tonight! I said with a slight air of arrogance.

Jack, if it were any other guy, I’d tell you that you were dreaming and that she was only flirting with you to get a discount on her bill! Mike knew me too well. But you always seem to have a horseshoe shoved up your ass when it comes to women, so I guess I’ll probably end up talkin’ to you tomorrow.

More than likely, bud.

Then I’ll catch you later, Jack.

Sounds good. See ya, Mike. As hung I up, I looked down at Duke, who was sleeping beside me on the couch. He was having puppy dreams. There he was, making these cute little yelping sounds as his eyes were twitching, when he suddenly flinched and awoke. It seemed that he’d scared himself awake. He took a couple of looks around the room nervously and then looked at me. I rubbed behind his ear and then let him lick my hand, and he was soon content enough to go back to sleep. I put my phone back on the charger and looked at the TV just in time to watch a four-punch combo, which knocked the boxer in black trunks between the ropes and out of the ring—right onto the judges’ table. I grinned and strummed a few random chords on the guitar. I was starting to play one of my favourite songs when my phone rang again.

Hello, I answered.

Hi, is this Jack?

Hey, Debbie. How’s it going?

I’m all right. I’m just calling to see that we’re still on for tonight.

Yeah, we’re definitely still on. I was actually about to call you in the next couple of minutes. Umm, did you want me to pick you up tonight? I asked.

Actually, Jack, I was kinda wondering if we could meet at my neighbourhood pub. Would you be up for a night at Jefferson’s? she enquired.

Would you happen to mean the one in the southwest or the one in the northeast?

The one in the southwest. As she said it, I chuckled.

Must be fate, I responded.

What do you mean?

Well, it seems like I’m supposed to go there tonight.

How so?

My friends were trying to convince me to go there, and now an irresistibly beautiful woman has told me that that is where she wants me to be tonight. Sounds like destiny to me. Debbie kind of giggled.

Ah, she replied to the statement. So, Jack, do you believe in fate? I smiled and realized that this may be an interesting date indeed.

I’ll tell you what, why don’t we discuss that at the pub later?

All right, that sounds like a good idea. So I’ll meet you there around eight then?

Perfect. I’ll see you then, beautiful!

It was quarter to eight when I found myself stepping through the doors of Jefferson’s Pub, and I was instantly greeted by the smell of the slightly smoky barroom. Jefferson’s wasn’t a huge pub, but it wasn’t small by any standard. As I walked in, the pool tables where to the right, two of them with plenty of space in between. They were positioned long ways from the entering patrons and lined up towards the bar, which was opposite to the entrance. There were tall tables scattered all around for the pool players, two seats at each. To the left were a row of dartboards, three to be exact, all along the same wall as the door. This section was cordoned off by a wooden handrail. The centre of the bar was scattered with square tables that were meant for four people. Some of the tables were doubled up. The bar was on the right side, and the stage and dance floor were to the left of the bar. The dance floor wasn’t big but was good for the type of place that Jefferson’s was. The pub wasn’t busy, but there was definitely a good-enough crowd to give the room a nice ambience. I reached the pool table at which Joe and Mike were playing, which was the closest to the bar. Mike had seen me and waved me over to the table just as he was about to take his shot. I don’t think that Joe had noticed me yet, as he was flirting with the waitress. As I walked to the table, I watched Mike scratch on the eight ball. Joe was too much in flirt mode to notice that he had just won the game. Joe liked to flirt, though he wasn’t the type to cheat on his wife. In fact, his wife, Elaine, found it amusing to watch him flirt with other women. I looked back to Mike, who was a little frustrated by how he had just lost.

Without fail, eh, Mikey? I jested. He just turned to me with one of his wry smiles.

Tell me a-fuckin’ ’bout it! he said. He quickly forgot about the game. So what happened with your date? She cancelled on you or something?

Actually, no. This is her neighbourhood pub, and she is supposed to meet me here pretty soon. I just thought that I might be able to grab a quick beer with my buds before she gets here. By this moment, Joe had finally noticed that I’d arrived.

Hey, man. What’s happening? No girl tonight? he asked.

She’s meetin’ me here. No ball and chain tonight? I questioned.

She’s got her book club. That means two different things, he said, raising his fingers. First, she’ll be more wasted than me when I get home. And second, I’m getting’ lucky tonight! He laughed.

Says the man with two beers in his hands, I joked as Joe passed one of those beers over to Mike.

Your rack, Joe, said Mike.

You mean that you didn’t scratch? Joe asked.

No, I didn’t.

You’re full of shit! Joe said, smiling.

No, I’m not.

Yeah, you are. I can tell by that big shit-eating grin that you have on your lying face!

Jack. Mike turned to me. Do I have a shit-eating grin?

Sorry, man. But you do, I responded, now sporting one of my own.

Ha! shouted Joe. Now you owe me two beers, said Joe.

How the hell do you figure that?

One for losing and one for lying!

Tight bastard, replied Mike.

Hey, guys. Can I play the next game? I asked.

You’re gonna have to wait until I clean the table with this bastard and win my beer back! You can play the winner … in other words, me, in two minutes!

Big words for a cheater, responded Joe. At that statement, Mike racked and Joe broke, pathetically, I might add.

Girly break! Mike and I yelled in unison.

All spread! said Mike.

No balls! I finished. Mike stepped up to the table with total and utter confidence. He looked at his options with very careful consideration before making his decision. The balls were slightly clustered at the back of the table, and the cue ball was just to the side of the cluster.

Seven, bank, side, he said before he made his shot. He continued potting balls left, right, and centre until it looked like he’d run out of shots. Both Joe and I realized that Mike was a damn good pool player. However, neither of us could see a possible next shot for him, as he left himself too far behind the cluster to leave a clear shot. Mike stood there for a few moments, contemplating. He was playing the shot out in his mind. It was fairly obvious to tell when he was doing this, as his fingers almost pointed to his moves, and he mumbled to himself. Bank to the far right, on a six-four combo. This seemed an unlikely shot, but Mike took his time lining up, while Joe gave me a look that meant not a snowball’s chance in Hell. Mike took the shot with very little speed, and the six hit the four. The four moved perfectly towards its intended pocket at what seemed a turtle’s pace. The shot rolled into the pocket so slowly that I figured that the ball was going to sit on the edge. I looked at Joe, who was shaking his head in disbelief, as he mouthed the word unbelievable. Mike stood up and looked at us arrogantly and then proceeded to strut around the table like a peacock in heat. He began to laugh one of his cocky, fake laughs that he got when he pulled off something spectacular. Who’s the man? he more proclaimed than asked. Who’s the man, hey, boys? he repeated. Who’s house? My house! I said who’s house? I said who’s house? he spoke mockingly towards the two of us.

All right, smart-ass. Just hurry up and miss your next shot, retorted Joe, smiling. And sure enough, my cocky friend did just that. Joe took his turn next, and although he wasn’t as skilled as Mike, he was no slouch with a pool cue. He knocked four balls down before knocking Mike’s last ball down and tapping the eight ball mere inches from a pocket. Joe hung his head in shame and then looked up to me with a faux smile.

You realize that not even he can fuck this shot up, right? I said to Joe.

Don’t be so sure. I mean, after all, it is Mike! Joe contested.

Yeah, well, fuck you, guys, and you can take a wild guess where I’m gonna put this down. He grumbled a little as Joe and I laughed. Mike smacked the ball hard, putting the eight into the corner pocket … followed directly by the cue ball.

What did I tell ya, eh, Jack? Joe was grinning again.

Like I said, without fail, hey, Mikey? I responded. Mike stared at me with a puzzled look.

You know, Jack, I don’t even know why I bother anymore, Mike said with a strange smile on his lips.

Love of the game, I guess, I replied to his semi-angst. The waitress, Marci, walked over to me about then and took my order for a pint of lager. As she walked off, I suddenly felt a breeze come from behind as the door opened. I turned to see who was entering the bar.

Hey, Jack. It was Debbie, coming in with two other women. She was wearing a white blouse dipping down low and a denim miniskirt. This is Wendy, and this is my roommate, Rachel, she said, introducing a short brunette who was Wendy and a very attractive, tall, dark woman who was Rachel. As they were being introduced, Mike and Joe walked towards us.

Hi, nice to meet you, I said to the ladies. Mike was instantly drawn to Rachel.

Hello, my ebony princess, Mike said without a moment’s hesitation.

These are my friends, Joe and Dr. McCocky, I joked, or Mike, as the rest of the world knows him as!

Cocky? asked Rachel with a wicked grin. I like the sound of that! She giggled as the words came out of her mouth.

Can I get you a drink? I asked Debbie.

Yeah, I’ll have a tequila paralyzer, if you don’t mind please, Jack. I walked over to Marci, who was just about to grab my beer and asked her to bring the paralyzer as well and then went back to Debbie.

Do you play pool? I asked.

A little, she replied.

Hey, Joe. Can I take the table for one game? I inquired.

Yeah, sure, buddy. A few moments later, Marci appeared with our drinks and put them on the table nearest us. I thanked her as she put them down and then pulled out some coins and made my way to the money port on the table.

So what do you do for a living? I enquired as I began to pull the balls from the bottom of the table and racked.

I am a legal secretary for Lewis, Cowan, and Ross.

Do you find it interesting?

It can be. She chose a cue, looking at its weight, placed it on the table, and rolled it to see how straight it was. As she did this, I removed the triangle from the table. She then placed the cue ball to the right of centre, and it was at this moment that I noticed that she was wearing good pool-sharking clothes—a miniskirt and a low-cut white blouse nicely showcasing her ample cleavage. She bent over to take her shot, which truly was a sight to behold, and just barely spread the balls off her break. I took a sip from my pint of beer and stepped towards the table.

Work on any interesting cases recently? I asked.

Well, she began, we just wrapped up a case yesterday, which was a little on the strange side. We were representing a single mother who was looking to divorce from her thirteen year old son.

That’s not something ya hear about every day! The kid must have been a little hellion.

The story behind the family is that the parents split up four years ago because of the wife’s mental anguish over the husband’s household behaviour. We didn’t really get into their relationship because it seemed irrelevant to the case.

So what did the kid do that was so bad? I asked while making my shot successfully.

It seemed there were a number of reasons, but when she was examined on the witness stand, she said that he was causing her emotional distress. When she was asked how, she started bawling.

I’ve gotta ask, how often does that work on a judge?

Oh, more often than you’d think.

Remind me to try that with my next speeding ticket! I joked.

Sorry, Jack, but you’re the wrong gender! Anyway, she starts crying her eyes out and says, ‘He always leaves the toilet seat up and puts the toilet paper back on the holder the wrong way, if he replaces it at all.’ The whole time, the father of the kid is just rolling his eyes.

Kinda makes you wonder why they divorced, eh? I said, laughing.

No kidding, she replied as I made another shot and lined up for my next. As I sank one more, I figured that I had impressed Debbie enough. So my next shot, I missed on purpose, as to give the lady a chance. Seeing as how her break was less than spectacular, I figured that she might need a hand. It became very clear to me that this was an error in judgement by the time that she sank her sixth shot in a row just moments later.

So she must have really been bawling when they told her that she lost, hey?

Lost? Debbie retorted. No, my boss is brilliant! Not only did the kid have to move in with his dad, but his dad also had to pay a restitution fee as the guardian of the child for her emotional distress!

Christ. If I ever need a lawyer again, I think that I’m gonna go with your guy! She was bent over the table, taking her next shot, when she caught me checking her out.

See anything that you like? she asked with a smile on her face.

Three things actually! I responded. She sunk her final ball and took a few moments to position herself for the eight ball.

Three things? she asked.

Well, I’m pretty sure that we’ve established what the first two are, haven’t we? She smiled.

And what’s the third? she asked as she sunk the eight.

A gorgeous face with those beautiful blue eyes! I flirted.

Hmm. She giggled again. Well, technically, Jack, that would be five things. We moved from the pool table to an empty one in the main bar area, away from the rest of the group. We sat down, both of us taking a sip from our drinks.

You are amazing at pool, I said.

Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.

Thank you, I responded humbly.

So, she began, you never answered my question.

Which was?

Do you believe in fate?

Well, I guess that really all depends on how you define the word ‘fate.’

You know, that something is meant to happen.

Me, personally, that’s where I don’t think that fate comes into play. I think there’s a difference between fate and destiny. Where destiny means that everything is preordained, I think that fate is just a term that merely means how something ends. I had to think about how I said it, hoping that it made sense.

All right, then I guess the question would be, do you believe in destiny?

I don’t think that I do. I think that life is just a series of random events and moments. I couldn’t see it being that my whole life is meant to go somewhere before I choose it. I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t like the thought of not being in control of the course of my own life. However, it wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been wrong, so I wouldn’t argue against it either.

I believe in destiny, she countered with an incredibly sultry voice. I like the thought that my life has a point. It makes me feel like I have a reason for being … In fact, I think that it’s destiny that you and I are on this date right now.

How so? I asked with a smile.

I’ve seen you in here before.

You know, I had been trying to remember all day where I know you from.

Well, I’ve always wanted to come over and talk to you, but I could never think of anything to say. If only I’d known that you were this easy to talk with, I would’ve approached you a long time ago! she said while she looked down at the table, wearing a coy little smile.

It’s really a pity that you didn’t.

When I saw you come out from under that car this afternoon, I thought to myself: this must be fate, or destiny, I guess. I felt her leg run up and down mine. And when you said on the phone ‘this must be fate,’ it got me excited.

Well, I’m pretty ecstatic to be here with you as well.

So tell me, Jack, if not destiny, what do you believe in? Reincarnation or anything like that? she asked, still playing footsies.

Strangely, this isn’t the first time that I’ve had this conversation today.

Really? she asked, leaning in towards me.

Yeah, I helped a little old lady to cross the street earlier, and we got into the most interesting conversation about death, the afterlife, reincarnation—you know, all that really morbid, interesting stuff.

And what did this little old lady have to say? Debbie asked with a huge smile upon her face.

She did tell me that I have a nice ass! I told her with a slight chuckle.

I think that I’m inclined to agree with her about that. I looked deep into her eyes, and she gazed back into mine. Let me see your hand, she said as I gave it to her. I am going to prove to you that destiny exists!

Are you now? I responded. And how is it that you intend to prove to me that destiny exists?

I’ll show you, she replied as she began to read my palm. Do you see this line going across your hand?

Yes.

Now this is what they call your lifeline. It’s pretty long, so that means that you’re going to have a long life. Now do you see this line? she asked, pointing out another wrinkle in my palm. I nodded in the affirmative. This is your wealth line, and it tells me that you’re going to be exceedingly wealthy one day. She looked at me for a few moments, and we just gazed into each other before she went back to reading my palm. And this one is your lust line. And it’s pretty short."

So what does that mean? I asked with a puzzled look upon my face.

It means that you won’t have to wait very long! With that said, we both smiled, looked into each other’s eyes, and kissed. We continued to talk for at least an hour and a half about everything from history to politics. The entire time we were holding hands and playing footsies. Eventually, I excused myself from the table, as I needed to relieve myself. I entered the bathroom to see Mike standing at the first of three urinals.

Hey, hey, hey! I said to my preoccupied friend. How’s it goin’ with you and Rachel?

Well, it looks like we might be headin’ back to her place when we leave the bar, so you might have to take Debbie back to your place.

All right with me, bro. I can handle that. I went to the last of the urinals in the row and began to get rid of some of the beer that I had imbibed.

So, Mike began to enquire, what the hell have you two been talking about all night?

Everything, man. Debbie is really a great chick. She’s so easy to talk to, and she’s funny too! She’s smart and can really talk about such a large number of topics. I even like her car, man!

Chicks and cars, man. They’ll be the death of you one day. Mike was chuckling as he spoke.

Yeah, yeah, I said dismissively. Hey, what the hell is Joe doin’? Did he go home or something ’cause I haven’t seen him in a while.

No, he’s still around. I think he’s at the dartboards. He went over to see his buddy, Ed. I think that girl’s friend, umm, Wendy, I think she found some guy for herself, so she’s fine too!

That’s good to hear, I replied.

When I got back into the bar, I noticed that Rachel was sitting at my table; and the two were sitting there, giggling with each other like a couple of schoolgirls. So instead of interrupting the girl talk, I walked over to Mike, who was at a pool table, and we played a quick game while making some small talk. The game was very quick indeed, as Mike only gave me one shot, which I missed, before he cleared the table on me—and yet again scratched on the eight ball. When the girls finished with their chat, they came over to us. Debbie approached and kissed me. Her soft tongue glided against mine and kind of lingered there for a moment.

How ’bout one game of doubles, while we all finish off our drinks? asked Rachel. So do you guys wanna make it you two versus us two? she asked, pointing to Debbie and me as one team and herself and Mike on the other.

All right, that sounds good to me, I replied. As Mike racked, I looked towards Debbie with what must have been a mischievous look.

Pretty soon, we started playing pool again, but I was playing absolutely pathetically. Mike and Debbie gave each other a run for their money, while Rachel was only playing slightly better than me. We lost that game, but only due to the fact that Rachel was the one to shoot for the eight ball—not Mike! Soon Mike and I went to pay our tabs, both paid for our ladies’ drinks as well. On the way out, Mike and I stopped by the dartboards to see Joe. He told us to take ’er easy, and we said our good-byes, then accompanied the women into the parking lot. We walked outside and were greeted by a nice, cool summer night breeze. The girls walked away from Mike and me by about ten feet or so. All that the two of us could hear from the two of them were chattering and giggles.

You all right to drive, man? asked Mike.

Yeah, I’m fine … Are you?

We’re not driving. It’s a real close walk.

All righty then. Well, you have fun tonight then, all right, bro!

You too, man, he said as he walked in the direction of Rachel, and I walked to my passenger door to open it for Debbie. A moment later, she came over, pushed me against the car, and there we stood, making out like horny teenagers. When we finally stopped, she got into her seat and I closed her door. Bye, guys! I yelled at Mike and Rachel as they had begun to make their way to Rachel’s place.

See ya! Rachel yelled back and then went back to kissing my friend.

I got into the car and started it as Debbie started to nibble on my ear. When I got to the first intersection controlled by a traffic light, she was kissing my neck. I put my hand between her legs and started rubbing the inside of her thigh, and she responded by giving me a hickey. I felt the seatbelt on Debbie’s lap and thought that it was probably a good idea, but my hands were too full. I remember thinking to myself that it seemed lucky that there were very few other cars out that night. I came to the next red light and stopped. My fingers caressed her velvet skin. She moaned and kissed my neck again. I lost concentration of my driving for a moment and then quickly found it again and readjusted myself in the lane. As I worked my fingers further up her thighs, her hands had worked their way down, and she began to lower her head towards my crotch. She squeezed me, and it felt so good I closed my eyes for a moment, but I opened them to see that I was about to run a red light at high speed. I slammed on the breaks, and Debbie lifted her head as I began to run through the intersection—as the flashing lights of an ambulance came at me at full speed.

Chapter 2

Purgatory

I wasn’t entirely conscious, and I most certainly wasn’t lucid. But after having been in a car accident, how many people are? My head wasn’t clear, but I vaguely remember going down this dark corridor, which seemed very long, and I was heading towards a very bright room. I thought to myself that I must be in the hospital, as the area ahead of me seemed very white and well-lit. It was actually hard to look into the bright area as I approached it, as it was such a contrast to the dark hallway in which I was just strolling through. As I got closer still, the faint smell of old people entered my nostrils. That settled it - it was definitely a hospital. I entered the room and noticed a reception desk to my right and what appeared to be a massive waiting room. I went to the reception desk for two reasons—second, I wanted to know where I was and how long it would be before I got to see a doctor. And first, the lady behind the desk just happened to be a stunning brunette with these big brown eyes. As I approached, she noticed me admiring her form and smiled at me. She was the first to speak.

Whatcha need, hun? she seemed to coo. I smiled at her as I struggled to get my head together to think of the appropriate question for the situation that I had gotten myself into.

Well, sweetie, I was kinda wonderin’ where I am, I managed to think for a moment and clear the fog of concussion that had slightly enveloped me.

You are at Astral Receiving Depot number six, replied the receptionist, just as sweet as honey.

Really? I’ve never heard of this place before! After saying it, the woman shot me a slightly confused look. I thought that the government was closing down all the hospitals. It’s really relieving to hear about another one being opened up. As the beautiful woman was about to speak again, I sort of interrupted her. So am I in the north or the south? She tried her hand at speaking to me again, and this time, I was more polite than to speak out of turn.

Actually, sugar, this isn’t a hospital. You’re dead! She told me this in a very conversational way. It took me a few moments to grasp this concept and try to rationalize it before I could respond to this strange realization.

Hmm, I guess that would explain why I’m walking around without any signs of having just survived a car crash and without being in pain, for that matter too! At that remark, the woman had an even stranger look come across her face.

You took that pretty well, she responded. Most people who die young either bawl like babies or go blank for hours!

Well, the way I figure it, what can ya do? Life’s too short to … but that may take some time to get used to! I said, just barely correcting my faux pas. So … are there a Heaven and Hell? With my sudden realization of an afterlife, this question didn’t take me much time to realize.

Why, yes, there are, she replied, still smiling at me.

Well, beautiful, you wouldn’t happen to be able to tell me where I’m going, would you? I had let my curiosity towards my impending fate get the better of me, but I suppose that that was just my human nature.

Just give me a few seconds, sugar. I’ll look that up on my computer for you. What’s your name?

Jack Randal Harnette.

Harnette, Harnette, Harnette, she mumbled to herself as she checked her computer and began to check a very large list.

Say, gorgeous. You know my name. What’s yours? She looked up from her monitor and smiled a smile as sweet as an angel but wicked as a sinner (which kinda made me wonder).

Bianca, she simply answered.

That is a beautiful name. At which she blushed and went back to her computer. She continued typing and checking out the data that she had in front of her. She was starting to look a little perplexed. After a few minutes, she looked up at me, void of a smile, though the warmth still lingered in her eyes. It almost made me think for a minute that I didn’t want to hear her response.

Well, Jack, I can’t seem to find you on any of my databases. I don’t have a clue where you’re headed.

That’s okay, baby. But do you think that you might be able to keep me company for a little while? I asked.

I wish that I could, but I’m sort of working right now. I’ll tell you what, though. I’ll give you my number, and you can give me a call when you’ve settled in. But for now, I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat. She wrote her number on a piece of paper and slid it to me. So I’ll talk to you later, Jack," she said, again with that wicked smile of hers.

Yes, Bianca, you most certainly will, I smiled back, putting her number in my pocket and then headed into this Astral Depot, as she had called it. As I walked, the realization that I had put something into my pocket intrigued me. The fact that I was in my clothes intrigued me. If I were dead, why was I still wearing the clothes that I died in? But I soon lost interest about that for the moment as I looked around this massive complex. I began to think that I knew why Bianca was so flirtatious with me; I was one of the very few men under the age of fifty. Out of what appeared to be a building with hundreds of people, the number of us younger people appeared to be in the tens.

The place reminded me of an airport terminal. Hell, it even had a food court. I wasn’t hungry, but I noticed a group of five younger people sitting around and talking in that general vicinity. I decided to approach. As I got close to them, one of them noticed me. A big balding guy with a moustache and beard.

Hey, buddy, join the party! he exclaimed loudly so I could hear him through the crowded yet strangely quiet building. All of the people in the group were sitting in bench seating in two rows facing each other. They all turned to look at me and smiled welcomingly.

Hi, I said as I came to sit with them. There were three men and two women. We introduced ourselves. The big guy was named Rick, the skinny redheaded fellow was Simon, and the man with the goatee and dark hair was named Al. Of the females, there was a pleasantly plump lady in her early forties named Lisa and a punky girl in her mid twenties, Sara. She had tattoos on her arms, a lip ring, a nose ring, and too many ear piercings to count. Though, she was very cute. When I planted my ass on one of the seats, I looked around the group. So how long have you guys been here for?

It feels like forever, responded Al. But it’s probably only been a day or so. But I don’t really know.

I’d say that I’ve been here about two days, said Lisa.

Ten or twelve hours for me, I guess, answered Rick. Simon took a few moments before answering, as it seemed that he was really contemplating the question.

Must have been a week already, at least. That’s when I looked towards punky Sara. She stared back deeply into my eyes and gave me this sort of sideways smile. She seemed to lean in towards me, as I was sitting directly across from her.

Far too long to go without sex. How ’bout you, Jack? She spoke slowly and deliberately and made the k sound in my name somehow linger.

I’ve probably been dead a good fifteen minutes, I replied to the group rather than the woman who asked.

Christ, buddy! said Al. You just found out that you’re dead within the last fifteen minutes, and you’re not breakin’ down or going mad?

It’s funny, I replied. Bianca at the front desk made the exact same point after she broke the news to me.

And you got the name of the woman working at the desk? asked Rick with a stunned look on his face.

Got her number too! I said with a grin. All of them, with the exception of Sara, gave a look of sheer amazement.

You’re already pickin’ up women! stated Al.

Well, no time like the present I figured. It was at this moment that I had an urge to relieve myself. Would any of you know where the washroom is, by any chance?

Uh, yeah, replied Lisa. Do you see the taco stand over there? she asked, pointing behind me. I turned to look.

Yup.

It’s just to the right of it.

Thanks. I got up from my seat. I’ll be back in a minute.

I walked into the washroom, which was enormous. It reminded me of the one in the Flames arena, except bigger and with more stalls for using the shitter. It had light blue walls and restroom advertising above every urinal. Instead of sinks, there were three big troughs for washing hands in. It seemed strange to me that I couldn’t see anyone else in the huge facility. I walked to a urinal to do my business, and as I finished up, I turned around to see Sara standing there. The look on my face must have been one of surprise.

So … what are you doing here? In the men’s room?

Now that I’m dead and goin’ to Hell, what better fuckin’ time to see it, eh? She walked over to me slowly, purposefully, and wrapped her arms around me, and we kissed. She suddenly jumped up and wrapped her legs around me. I walked towards a stall and tried to open it. It was locked. While maintaining the embrace, I tried stall after stall, but all of them seemed to be occupied. After about a minute of searching, I finally found a vacant one, went in, closed the door, and put Sara’s back against it. Having never kissed a girl with a lip ring before, I spent a little extra attention to her lips. After a few moments, she broke contact to take off her shirt as I undid my pants. She exposed her small breasts, one of which was pierced as well. I lowered my head to them and enjoyed the new sensation of her nipple ring on her right breast. I pulled on it slightly with my lips and then sucked on the nipple. She squeezed my face into her mammary, almost suffocating me as she began to moan. She pulled my mouth towards her own for another strong embrace. She stood up, took her shoes off, released her pants from her legs, and then grabbed me by the hands and pulled me towards her. We embraced in a lustful kiss again, and soon I was driving into her. Her hands reached for my butt and squeezed it before moving to my back and digging her nails into me. She started to moan, and it wasn’t long before she was on the brink. Ohhhhhh, Jack. I love how you feel inside me! With that, I couldn’t hold back any longer as she began screaming loudly, and we finished in unison. She slowed her pace, and we kissed until the moment that she stood up.

We took a few moments to clean up and dress before leaving the stall. Walking out of the washroom, I noticed that Sara’s hair was a mess. She walked out ahead of me and stayed a few paces in front. Upon my exit from the restroom, the smell of tacos had me enticed.

Hey, Sara, do you want a taco? I asked as we were passing by the taco stand.

No, thanks, Jack. My appetite has just been filled, she responded. But I’ll catch you on the flip side! As she said this, she winked at me and walked away.

I thought this was the flip side, I replied. She turned her head one last time and smiled sweetly at me and then kept on walking, and that was the last time I saw her.

I turned to the taco stand now and didn’t even bother looking at their menu. I went to the till with