Bliss Guaranteed or Your Money Back

Dan was in the middle of flipping someone off at a bar, cackling with drunken laughter, when the bomb exploded.

For a moment, there was only darkness-a world so diluted that it may as well have never existed. This must be what Helen Keller felt like-suspended in a space, living without any real sense of life.

Then, light cut through his eyes like knives of sunlight, which caused him to throw his hands over his face in shock. Something warm covered him-a cloth?-but he couldn’t bring his hands away from his eyes. Eventually, the light dimmed, and Dan was able to see the shadow of a woman with soft, blonde hair billowing outward in waves. Soft, arctic blue eyes stared back at him. Dan shivered despite the warmth of the cloth, backing away from the figure. The floor tiles he was sitting on felt so clean and sterile that he felt filthy just being there. Looking around, he saw a white room padded with foam mattresses. They looked like clouds, but that would be impossible. People would fall right through them.

“You’re safe now.” The woman said, a phrase that sounded so natural on her tongue, as if it was the only phrase she ever spoke. She gazed down at him while Dan gawked at her glowing skin.

“My wife would love to know what your skin-care routine is.” Dan muttered, and scratched at his goatee. Clara, his wife, would know what to do in his situation. He wondered where she was.

“You’re safe now.” The woman repeated and put a gentle hand on Dan’s forehead.

“What are you-” Dan started, and then a rush of warmth washed over and cleansed him. Pure bliss. His world felt righted, like it was spinning but stopped in perfect suspension. He couldn’t remember what he was thinking about before. Tears pricked his eyes, and he started to cry.

“Hello.” He said, his mind empty of anything save for his homecoming.

White wings spread out as the woman said, “You serve the Light now. You will never suffer again.”

Dan nodded and took her hand. It was soft. “Are you an angel?” He asked. The woman nodded with a slight tilt of her head. They left the white room and entered a larger room full of mostly old people, some young.

“Pray and say hello to your savior.” The Angel said, and gestured out towards the wide room, empty save for a light, golden mist that sprinkled down from the ceiling.

Dan looked around. “Where’s God?” He asked.

“He’s everywhere.” The Angel said, smiling. Her perfectly white teeth twinkled under the golden mist.

Dan nodded. “Of course.” He said. How could he be so blind? He could feel God’s presence wrapped around him like a heated blanket. He knelt down next to an older man and started to pray. Later on, the angel took him and the others outside. The sun was so close that he could see the bumps and ridges of the orange flame, but he didn't feel hot. In fact, the temperature was just right. He didn’t feel tired, either. He vaguely remembered a brown liquid he used to drink to keep from being tired, but couldn’t recall the name.

The angel told him that he won’t need to sleep anymore. He would never feel weary. He would not feel hunger, thirst, or lust. He was in eternal celebration of the Lord, and he would get to walk the heavens for all eternity, just like what Adam and Eve were destined to do.

“I don’t deserve this.” He told the angel.

“You don’t.” The angel replied gently. “But you believed.”

Dan spent long stretches of time praying and giving thanks to God. With the others who were saved, Dan wandered the heavens. He didn’t remember a time when he ever felt bad.

One day, a sharp pain stabbed his head, and an image flashed in his mind. A woman laughing so hard that she was doubled over; love so strong that his chest started to ache. Light bouncing on the woman’s hair like a halo through a kitchen window. He fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the ground. An angel appeared, then, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“This is normal.” She said, “It’s called correction. You’ll experience remnants of your wicked life before you become fully one with God.

Dan looked up at her and cried out. “Who was that?” He grasped at the clouds where he sat, and clutched his searing heart.

“That is the temptation of the earthly world.” The angel explained. “Be patient. It will leave with time.”

Later on, another image. A little girl in a pink tutu skirt. She held her arms out, motioning to him. He scooped her up in his arms. He couldn’t remember her name, but felt a hole in his heart that he knew only she could fill.

The next day, the smell of wood shavings. A man holding a glass beer bottle. The smell of cigarettes. Dan clinked his glass with the man’s.

Dan fell to his knees again. A yearning, for what, he isn’t sure, pounded at his heart, begging to be satisfied. He folded his hands together and begged for the feeling to go away. He crawled over to a cloud tree and collapsed on the roots. Once his head hit the ground, he saw an old man covered with a gray shawl sitting on the other side.

“Hello.” Dan said. The old man looked at Dan and smiled gently. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he said “hello” back. “What are you drawing?” Dan asked, looking at the light, airy sketch of a dog running across a field on the old man’s notebook.

“One of my friends would love to see a heaven dog.” The man said. “I snuck up here to draw it so I can show her.”

“What do you mean, snuck up here?” Dan asked.

The old man took his time forming a reply, looking out across the vast cloud field. A group of older women sat in a circle smiling at each other. Everyone always smiled in heaven.

Finally, the man said “You haven’t been corrected yet, have you?”

“No.” Dan said. He watched the women sit and smile. “It’s a very painful process, but…” He began. "Can I tell you a secret?”

“My lips are sealed.” The old man said, putting a finger to his crinkly, dried lips.

“I don’t remember all of it, but I miss my life on Earth.” Dan said, and looked down at his feet. “Everything is perfect here, but I just…feel like I’m losing myself.”

The old man took Dan’s hand in his own. Dan felt calmer at once, feeling grateful for the human contact. “Can I tell you something?” The old man said.

“Of course.” Dan said back.

“Heaven isn’t for good people.” The old man whispered, his voice gravelly with age. “It’s for people who are so terrified of dying that they never live.”

Dan scrutinized the man for a moment, really looking at him. Finally, he said, “What’s your name?”

The man took a breath, then, bracing for some sort of judgement. His eyes roamed across the fields of clouds stretching out before them, peacefully admiring the view.

“My name is Lucifer.” He said. Dan stared at him. The old man continued, and said “God didn’t cast me out for my evil. He cast me out for my compassion.”

Over the next few days, Dan continued to see the old man under the cloud tree. After the fourth day, his cloud dog sketch was nearly complete.

“I’m going back now.” The old man said.

“To hell?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt over there?”

“Yes. We feel. We get hungry. We get thirsty. And tired. But we have our happy moments.”

Dan thought about his carpentry job, his wife, and daughter. All the sorrow that came when they were inevitably lost. The pain of living.

Then he thought of all the bright smiles he sees every day in heaven. They can’t feel anything but happiness. They don’t have the option to feel bad. What’s the point of feeling so good all the time if we don’t have anything to compare it to?

Dan started to laugh, working his way up to where he was laughing so hard his ribs started to hurt. Was he seriously contemplating leaving heaven for hell?

The old man waited for him, patiently, to stop laughing. Finally, he fell silent and took a look around the paradise before him. He smiled at the absurdity of it all, and saw the old man holding out an apple for him to take.

Dan looked at the apple. It was shriveled and filled with worms. “At least if I burn, I’ll know I’m alive.” He said, and took a bite. It was rotten and disgusting. He gagged as darkness rose over him and the sound dimmed down to nothingness.