4

My pulse pumps against my eardrum, beating out a steady rhythm of fear and confusion. With each lump-dump of my heart, my jaw clenches tighter. My arms squeeze harder. And one thought surges in my brain.

Dying is never easy.

Lump-dump.

Dying is never easy.

Lump-dump.

Dying is never easy.

I want to cry.

More than anything I want to know. Am I dead? Is this really the afterlife? An office with hard and uncomfortable sofas, buzzing fluorescent lights, skull men with monocles, is this what comes after death? I was never a very religious girl, but I sure as hell don’t remember any of those things listed in any religions I knew about.

Where were the fluffy clouds, the harps, the halos? Where was the fire and brimstone, little devils with goat feet, horns, and pointy tails?

Dying is never easy.

Well, it sure as heck was for me. I don’t even remember dying!

A sweet and sickeningly upbeat female voice chimes in through the speakers, interrupting my racing thoughts, “You said it, Bill! The Reaper Corps is a swell place, but what does it mean to be in the Reaper Corps?”

“Good question, Jan!”

“Thanks, Bill!”

“Let’s watch this and find out!”

Triumphant music blares as a title slowly scrolls up the black screen in big, white block letters:

So You’ve Decided to Join the Reaper Corps!

A Lost Souls Division Film

As the title rolls up through the top of the screen, the black fades to a grayish color and a black and white cartoon man in a business suit and hat appears.

“This is Sam.” The 1950s authoritative male voice says. “Sam has died.”

The cartoon man clenches his chest, frowns, and falls over. Little X’s replace the dots for his eyes. Slowly, a transparent and ghostly Sam pops out of the dead one. He has a huge smile on his face.

“Sam’s Soul thinks he has led a good life. So, he prepares for his departure to the Heavens.” The ghostly Sam spreads out his arms in a happy, glorious stance as he floats up and away from his corpse. A cloud appears above him with an ornate, shiny gate on it. The gate is open and welcoming. Sam’s ghost is even happier when he sees it, but the smile is wiped away from his face as the gate slams shut.

“What’s this? It would appear the Heavens do not agree with Sam. He hasn’t led as good a life as he thought.”

The cloud and closed gate float off screen, and a fiery pit rises up from the lower edge. Sam’s ghost looks terrified as he floats toward the scary looking chasm.

“Uh-Oh! Here come the fiery Hells looking to torment a naughty soul.”

Suddenly, a giant bucket appears above the pit and dumps water into it. Steam rises up and the fire is extinguished. Quickly, what looks like mud fills up the pit. Sam’s ghost face is one of shock and surprise.

“Well, now this is strange. It would appear that Sam hasn’t led a bad enough life for the Hells.” The sweet female voice asks, “But where does his soul go now?”

The cartoon Sam shrugs his shoulders, and large, black question marks start appearing over his head. The cloud with the closed gate reappears at the top of the screen, and the now muddy but still steaming hole remains at the bottom. Sam’s ghost is stuck in between.

“Why, Jan, it looks like Sam has lived his life in the middle. He isn’t good enough for the Heavens,” A Giant X appears over the cloud and gate, “But he isn’t bad enough for the Hells.” Another giant X appears over the muddy, steaming hole.

“Golly, Bill!”

“Don’t worry, Jan. This is more common than you might think. Most people have their good and their bad sides. That’s why Purgatory exists.”

A huge cityscape dominated by a giant tower in the middle rolls in from the side and stops in the center of the screen, between the heavenly gate and the mucky pit. Sam’s ghost puts his finger to his mouth. He still looks quizzical.

The Jan voice sounds confused, “Purgatory? What’s that?”

“Well, Purgatory is the in-between zone, Jan. Souls of those that have died but haven’t been righteous enough for Heaven, or evil enough for Hell go here.” Slowly, the cityscape grows larger and larger until it shoves both the cloud and the pit off the screen. Sam’s ghost still looks concerned.

“But what does a soul do in Purgatory, Bill?” The cartoon Sam looks at the audience and nods his head in agreement with the question.

“You are full of good questions today, Jan!”

“Aw shucks, thanks, Bill!” I can almost hear the blushing of Jan’s cheeks through the speakers.

“Well, first Bill’s memories and thoughts are taken out of his head.” A huge hand reaches from off screen and grabs hold of Sam’s head. Sam tries to run away, but isn’t quick enough. Another hand holding a drill appears and bores straight into Sam’s head until a white fluffy cloud-like object oozes out. The hand holding the drill quickly goes off screen and comes back with a bucket to catch all the fluffy ooze.

“Those memories are examined and analyzed.” Another hand comes on screen holding a magnifying glass. “Once the memories are looked at, Sam will get his own private space in Purgatory, a Pocket Purgatory if you will, Jan. This private space is for Sam’s soul alone and will reflect his own private thoughts and memories.”

All the hands zoom off screen, except the one holding Sam’s head. That one raises Sam up in the air, while another hand comes in to open the roof of one of the buildings in the cityscape. The roof opens easily, as if it has a hinge on one side. The hand holding Sam places Sam inside the building.

Now, the hands leave and the building grows, filling the entire screen. It also becomes transparent so that I can see Sam inside. His tongue is sticking out of his mouth and his eyes are swirls. Bubbles rise out his head and burst shortly afterward.

“That’s amazing, Bill!” Jan pipes in.

“It sure is, Jan. It sure is.”

“What happens now, though?” Jan asks.

“So, now Sam is alone in his own little slice of Purgatory. Remember those thoughts and memories we removed earlier?”

“Well, sure.”

“Those are used to fill out the space of Sam’s Pocket Purgatory. Any friends or loved ones he was thinking about or remembered. They are all here. They aren’t real, of course, but to Sam they seem real.” Other cartoon people appear all around Sam. They all look happy to see Sam. “It’s not just people either. Pets are placed in, buildings, even his job and his house. You name it and if it was in Sam’s head it will be in his Pocket Purgatory.” More things appear all around Sam filling the whole space of the screen. Cars, dogs, plants, books, chairs, they all keep appearing until there is no room left for anything else.

“Eventually, Sam will come out of his daze, see all this familiar stuff, and not even remember he has died.” The cartoon Sam shook his head rapidly from side to side. The bubbles stop bursting out of his head and his eyes turn from swirls into little dots again. As he looks around the screen, a big smile appears on his face. “Here’s the real trick. He is free to live out his life in his own private spot as he sees fit.”

“Gee, that’s nifty, Bill. But, what’s the point, though?”

“Glad you asked, Jan, because this is the most important part. As Bill resumes living his life, unaware that anything is wrong, Central Processing will be watching him the whole time.” The screen zooms out and shows Sam’s private building next to the huge, monolithic tower from the cityscape. This time, the tower had two large eyes glaring down at little Sam.

“Since Sam has the same amount of good and evil in his soul. This is his last chance to tip the scale one way or the other. If he starts to do good while in his Pocket Purgatory, then, eventually, he might earn his way into one of The Heavens.” A stick figure with wings and a halo flies out of the tower.

“If Sam starts doing bad, though…” I see the cartoon Sam get an angry look on his face. His teeth turn into fangs, and out of nowhere he pulls out a big, fake-looking gun. In a rampage, he starts shooting all the other people in his building. I don’t know why, but the scene makes me smile. Maybe the first smile since I’ve been in this messed up place.

Bill continues, “…well, if he starts doing more bad, it’s time for a spot in one of the Hells.” Now, a stick figure with horns and a pointy tail appears at the base of the tower and begins to creep over to Sam’s building.

“I guess, that makes sense, Bill. If Sam was so evenly split, though, well…what happens if he still lives out his fake life in a balance of good and evil?”

“Yes that certainly can happen. If the soul in question is still living a balanced life a long time into living in his Pocket Purgatory, Central Processing has to decide what to do with him.” Immediately, the angel stick figure and the devil stick figure rush at each other and start punching.

Bill says in a stern voice, “Civilly, now, boys.” The Stick figures give each other one more punch and then start to shake hands. “The two sides in Central Processing reach an agreement on which one gets Sam’s soul. This can be messy, and is best left to the professionals.”

“Got it, Bill.” Jan takes in a deep breath and excitedly says, “I think I understand. You did a great job explaining!”

“I surely did, Jan. I surely did.”

The screen begins to fade to black, some happy music starts playing, and I see what looks like credits starting to appear. I guess that’s it then, I think. I breathe easier now and relax my jaw muscles and lower my knees away from my face.

When all of a sudden, with a screech, the music stops, and Jan’s voice is heard again.

“Wait a minute, Bill. I understand about Purgatory now, but what about the Reaper Corps?”

Hurriedly, Bill’s voice comes back over the speakers. He sounds out of breath, “Well golly! I almost forgot.” The imagines on the screen rewind until Sam’s building and the Central Processing tower show up again.

“Rarely, a soul living in its Pocket Purgatory will try to escape. Sometimes they become aware that something is amiss. Sometimes their Pocket Purgatory isn’t set up properly. Whatever the case, the soul becomes aware that the world they are living in is fake.” On screen Sam is running frantically around his building, trying to break windows and then trying to dig his way under the walls. He has a frenzied look on his face. Drool is flying out of his mouth.

“Oh, my!” Jan exclaims.

Bill responds in a somber tone, “Oh my, is right. When this happens, the soul is lost. If it escapes, it can terrorize and run amok in Purgatory as a whole, or the soul might try to get back to Material Plane and haunt their old homes or loved ones.” The cartoon Sam finally succeeds in busting down a wall of his building and runs wildly into the streets of the city. He bangs on doors and breaks windows. “If not stopped, a lost soul will break down other soul’s Pocket Purgatories, causing a chain reaction of souls being lost or destroyed.” As Bill speaks, Sam is causing chaos on screen. Buildings are falling over and crashing into each other. Other cartoon souls begin to pour out of the smashed structures, causing more mayhem.

“Oh my!” Jan repeats, sounding as if she is on the verge of tears.

“This is where the Reaper Corps comes in.” Instantly, hooded figures holding giant scythes appear on screen. They begin to attack the other souls, slicing off body parts and heads in the process. Soon, order is restored as all the other figures on screen are cut down by the reaper cartoons.

Jan cheers and claps excitedly.

Bill sounds triumphant, “Welcome aboard, heroes!”

The screen fades to black. Some credits roll, but I am too distracted to read them. The projector turns off, and slowly a few lights come back on. I hug my knees closer to my body and rock slightly. I just keep seeing the image of a cartoon reaper using a huge scythe to behead frothing, crazed stick figures.

Director Schrandle comes back on stage. He stands behind his podium, makes a sound like he is clearing his throat, and says, “Well, now, any questions?”

The room is silent. Someone coughs; others rustle restlessly in their seats. None of the other hooded folk in front of me speaks or raises a hand. Schrandle looks down at his notes and looks like he is going to say something else.

Tentatively and without even realizing I am doing it, I raise my own hand.