The Blogs: Heaven: A Short Story

When Maoz arrived in heaven, he got a bit of a surprise.

Contrary to popular belief, most people pass through the pearly gates knowing exactly where they are and exactly how they got there. Heaven is never quite what people expect, but there are enough context clues to work it out.

Maoz, on the other hand, had no idea.

For one thing, that Sunday morning, he had been asleep on the number 72 bus, on his way back to base after a Shabbat at home. So to him, the dream of sitting his University entrance exam had just changed location. But unlike a dream, he wasn’t intrinsically aware of any tasks he needed to perform. No house to build, no self-replenishing watermelon to eat, no hula-hoop competition to win. In heaven, he just was.

He would have been able to deal with that, though, if it weren’t for the clerical error. In this case, the error meant that scores of women – about his age – were welcoming him, in a language that was familiar but not his mother tongue.

Contrary to what you might think, these women were not angels. Nor were they people who had died. They were made to order; human souls that were destined to remain in heaven. The women were expecting someone else, but considering they had never met that man, they all just assumed Maoz was their guy.

As Maoz’ mind was coming out of sleep, he found it odd that his body was still in the white void with these women. He could feel the soft fabric of 72 dresses and smell the cigarette smoke and hummus on the breath from 72 mouths. Hadn’t he just been on his way somewhere?

The women were very affectionate; offering Maoz delicacies he didn’t like and asking him to sing songs he didn’t know. This wasn’t the interaction they had anticipated either.

Disappointed that he wasn’t happier to see them, some of the ladies began playing sheshbesh amongst themselves. Others introduced themselves to him, and were surprised that his accent and name weren’t the ones they had been waiting for.

A little panic spread through the group. Compounded by the fact that there wasn’t anyone to ask for clarification. Heaven doesn’t have rooms. Or doors. There’s no staff. You just are where you are and you’re with who you’re with.

Compared to the oncoming eternity, things settled down quite quickly.

Neither the women nor Maoz, though, heard Ahmad, who had entered heaven at the exact same moment. Ahmad was equally surprised to find himself – as a result of the same clerical error – sitting in an enormous circle along with infinite other souls, around a pulsing warmth and brightness.

Neither Ahmad nor Maoz got what they had been promised, but that didn’t really bother them.

Being bothered is a pastime for the living.