Chapter 1 - Till Death Do us Part

Chapter 1 - Till Death Do us Part

It seems like only yesterday when my world, boring and mundane as it was, came to an end. I died. It was actually kind of cool. After all, dying is not an experience one could soon forget, no matter how much one may want to. Believe me, I have tried to forget and to make it back to the world I grew up in many, many times over the last several years. The only thing I have learned from my efforts is that there is no going back.

My name is Jordan Hunter. I live in a small town in Oklahoma, or at least I used to. All I can remember anymore is wheat fields. Miles and miles of golden wheat fields, forever haunting my dreams. That and the clouds that brought giant thunderstorms that ravaged the land, flattened the wheat fields, and stranded poor cows on top of telephone poles. But, getting back to my death, which is the whole reason I am telling you this story anyhow. I was standing on my front porch relaxing, leaning heavily on the one column that had yet to collapse. I had just finished drinking the first of my after-work beers and was gazing wistfully at a tornado touching down far in the distance. Now, while twisters aren’t exactly unusual in Oklahoma, it was strange seeing one in December. Tornados usually only happen in the spring. I don't remember there ever being a December tornado in my lifetime, before that fateful day. At the time I figured it must have been the El Nino getting in one last good storm. Anything is possible in Oklahoma.

I was just standing there all peacable like, shot gunning my beer, amusing myself with visions of the damage being done to someone else's fields, when all of the sudden another twister formed directly over my house and sucked me deep into its bowels. That was unusual. Normally there is a little bit of notice before a twister sucks you in, a loud noise at the very least. Something to give you time to lock yourself in the basement or jump in the nearest ditch.

The moment of my death was marked by the traditional bright tunnel of light, and a horrible icy chill that covered my body. A timeless moment on the cusp of forever. The bright lights of my death were those of a spaceship located at the top of this particular tornado. The cold was from the freezing rain and hail pelting my poor tender body as I was sucked up into the vicious circling clouds. Halfway up the cyclone from hell, a large transparent bubble came out of nowhere and surrounded me, protecting me from the weather as I flew upwards through the center of the maelstrom. Just before I was smashed head first into the bottom of the spaceship, a small portal opened before me and I was hurtled aboard the ship, darkness enveloping me.

When I finally got the courage to open my eyes, I realized I must have gone and kicked the bucket. I didn't even remember dying and I dang sure didn't feel dead. But it had to be the truth, I just had to be dead. Cause standing there before me was a rolling lawn of green, which ended in a large set of, (you guessed it), Pearly Gates. There were angelic-looking guards wearing huge fluffy white wings standing to the side of a longhaired old man in a white flowing robe with a shiny golden halo floating over his head. I was really thinking I had hit the jackpot this time. You have to admit if ya got to go, then heaven is the place to be.

Too bad they gave me a stupid job and sent me back. Okay, so it wasn't a stupid job. It was a good job, even what you all might call an honorable one. But it was still a job and I never did like working much. Besides, this one didn't turn out at all like I expected and it has lasted longer than any one man is supposed to be alive, much less work for a living. You'll hear more about that later.

On the other side of the massive golden gates, behind a set of really big chains and several padlocks, stood a row of beautiful half-dressed women, all a smiling and a waving. They helped confirm my theory that this was heaven. The old man with the floating hat finally noticed me walking toward him. He had been poking at something that looked like one of them new palmtop computers. I never did understand how a man could use one of those things. The buttons are so little and the instructions only came in Japanese.

"Oh, that's just wonderful! We weren't ready for processing yet," he muttered towards the sky as he turned towards me and growled. "Young man, why are you here? Are you trying to ruin my day?"

I must admit, being a regular Christian and all, (I was even an acolyte until I burned down the church one Easter Sunday - they should know better than to hang drapes over the candles is all I have to say), I really expected a much more polite greeting when I reached my final reward. I thought being rude to the man in charge of letting people into Heaven was probably not a good idea, but his attitude rubbed me the wrong way, so I told him about it.

"Mr. St. Peter, Sir, I didn't ask to die," I tried to explain as respectfully as possible. "It's not like you all asked for my opinion in the matter. You just sucked me up, in a tornado no less, and you didn't even have the decency to let me bring my beer." My complaints didn't seem to faze him in the slightest.

"You didn't die you fool, you were Raptured. Same ending, big difference in processing. Raptures are supposed to be grand things, not showing up here alone days before you were supposed to." he said shaking his head. "Don't you want your trumpets and the giant worldwide spectacle we had planned? Must there always be one person who can't follow a few simple rules?"

"I don't know," I told him staring at the women behind the gate. One winked right at me and a few others were beckoning me over. "I always kinda figured dead was dead. I don't particularly like trumpets, but them women over there look mighty nice. Since I'm here, do you think I could just go on in and talk to them for a while and maybe sneak a kiss or two?"

"No, you may not!" he snapped back at me. Like the question wasn't proper or something. It's not like I started the waving and a winking . . .

"I have to call and get you sent back," he went on gruffly. "They aren't going to be happy in Ops. Not happy at all. I am not sure what they are going to do with you. They may just decide to stash you somewhere until the big day."

"Exactly when is the big day, huh.?" I questioned cautiously. I didn't like the idea of being stashed for a long time. A short time with them women over there might have been fun, but if they were just going to hide me somewhere for weeks by myself, it could get pretty boring. I've been talking to myself for years and the conversation was never that good.

"Why, on the Millennium, of course. Can't you read ? We left you the book, with instructions I might add, telling you all about it. I suppose there could have been some confusion with the way you humans have altered it. But, that is not our fault. You shouldn't have let the scribes drink so much wine when they were copying. All we see on your t.v. waves is church, church, church. Don't you have one of those t.v. things in your house?"

"Of course I have t.v.! What real American doesn't? But I don't watch church on t.v. I watch sports, like a real man," I announced proudly, strutting back and forth across the lawn and performing the wave.

"Besides," I asked him, "Aren't you guys a little late? We were waiting for you a few years ago. How could you have missed the party? Hell, they even sunk a cruise ship for it."

"Young man, we cannot be responsible for your race’s failure to practice proper timekeeping. You’re the ones that allowed the Roman Kings to change the calendar whenever they needed a new holiday. If you had paid attention to the news instead of MTV, you would have realized this."

"I would never watch MTV. CMTV shows more tits and I never did understand Rap music," I replied, deeply offended. This guy was getting annoying. Who did he think I was?

I'd always thought St. Peter would know everything about me when I arrived. This guy didn't know diddly squat, and I was seriously doubting his ability to judge who gets into heaven. Maybe it was time for God to hire some new help and retire this cranky old fart. That something bad is about to happen feeling started settling through my gut. I had to make sure I was going to get to come back. After all, Heaven has got to be more fun than the alternative.

"So I'll get to come back in three days. Is that what you're saying?" I asked, trying to act cool and collected; not wanting ole Pete to know how scared I was.

The old man consulted the tiny computer looking thing, nodding his head in agreement. "Yes, that's right. Three days."
I leaned forward over the old man's shoulder to try and see what he was doing, but he snapped that thing shut and held it close to him. "The Ops people say they want you to do them one teensy weensy favor to get back in since you came too early. After all, it was not our fault you showed up too soon. We are the minions of G.O.D. and we don't make mistakes," he remarked rather huffily, drawing himself up to an impressive height. I hadn't realized he was that tall. Course, it could have been me shrinking into the lawn.

That sick feeling was getting worse.

"Well maybe it was an act of God that brought me here," I shot back, figuring I had nothing to lose. "It was certainly an act of someone. Tornados don't usually suck people into spaceships. Or maybe they do, but you would think I would have at least heard rumors down at the Sale Barn if that were true."

"Highly unlikely. He is not usually that involved. St. Peter replied but then he got this look on his face like maybe he was wondering too. "He has actually been kind of quiet lately. There are those in the Arch Angel Corp. that think maybe he has lost it." St. Peter said this last in a whisper. He kept shuffling his feet and glancing worriedly back at the gate. Guess he was thinking that God might be listening in.

"Exactly what do you mean when you say you think God has lost it? What happened to all-powerful, all-knowing, all-seeing?" I asked in my normal tone of voice. I didn't see any reason for me to whisper. It's not like I was questioning God's sanity. Only an idiot would do something like that.

"Well," he answered, still whispering, "G.O.D really is all those things and quite a bit more. It is just that lately he has been using his powers for some very strange things. He seems to be interested in a particular spot on your planet and we need to know why. So we are going to send you there and let you find out what he's up to for us. We angels of the A.A.C. have to keep up with what's going on and he is just not the most informative G.O.D in this universe," he replied, sighing heavily. "Sometimes I think he forgets we exist."

"At any rate here is your transfer," he said, handing me a flimsy little piece of paper stamped "Good For One Return Trip to Heaven." St. Peter sounded more than a little miffed with the boss man. I didn't think angels were allowed to get mad at God. Except for Lucifer and his friends, of course.

"Please note it is only good for one trip back," he went on. So do try to find what we need. I would hate to have to leave you on Earth if you were supposed to come with us."

I didn't want to give up my only chance at Heaven, so I stuffed my ticket to Heaven into the front pocket of my slightly damp, ass-hugging, Wal-Mart Rustlers where I knew it would be safe. I had just pulled my hand from my pocket, which is hard work with jeans this tight, when the whole world spun around. I was cold and then hot, out cold, and then awake and plunging into a small lagoon from higher up than I would have preferred. I had just enough time to realize I had no clue where in the world I was being dropped when I hit the water in a screaming belly flop. Damn that hurt; it hurts just remembering it.

Anyway, I eventually floated to the top in agony and rolled onto my back so I could catch my breath. I was still struggling for air when a huge wave crashed over me and thankfully, (I think), carried me to shore. After crawling up the beach to get out of reach of the water, I did the only thing I was still capable of. I fell asleep