Memory's Domain

Arriving from the 7-11 by J. Hazlett

"Where am I?" asked Robert Schmidtt.
"I'm afraid you're dead, Son," said the white-robed man before him. Welcome to
"the afterlife." I'm your gatekeeper, Saint Peter. Just a moment, I need to check your
background."
"What? I'm dead? How can that be? I was just buying a burrito in a
Seven-Eleven! How did I die?"
"Terrorists hid a bomb in the store. You died instantly, three more people are on
their way, be here any time now. Time of death 10:43 Paradise Standard Time, arrival at
Pearly Gates Judeo-Christian Terminal at 10:45 Paradise Standard Time."
"I was blown up?"
"'Fraid so, kid. According to your record, though, you've been good, so you may
enter the gates." St. Peter glanced around, frowning. "No one is here to guide you
around heaven. You haven't had any relatives or friends die?"
"Just my Uncle Sam."
"Oh. Well, you won't find him up here. Let me call for one of my gatekeeper
aides." St. Peter hit a small, red button on his podium. A loud beep rang through the
misty halls. A tall, handsome man emerged from the haze, carrying a lyre. St. Peter
briefly greeted the man, then turned to introduce him to Robert.
"Robert, this is Orpheus. He used to work in the elysian fields, but business
slowed down there, so he transferred. He'll guide you through your first few days with us.
Have a nice day."
"Come with me," said Orpheus, "I've got a lot to teach you before you meet the
Big Guy."
"Okay," responded the confused Robert.
***
"Where am I?" asked Apu Habib.
"I'm afraid you're dead," answered St. Peter. "Apu Habib. You're the owner of
the Seven Eleven that just blew up aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. A very fine Seven-Eleven, too, I might add."
"We just had one of your customers. Said he was buying a burrito when he died."
"Ah, yes. A very, very nice man. Good customer, very good in fact. This is the
Christian heaven, no?"
"You're a Hindu! Jesus Christ!"
A voice rang from overhead, "Yes, Peter?"
"Tell those morons in Theocratic Distribution that they sent a Hindu to the Pearly
Gates Terminal! Tell them to get him on the reincarnarnation waiting list A.S.A.P. and to
send a guide to take him to the Moksha Division. And tell them to straighten up their
act."
"Do not be mad, Peter. They are not God."
"I know, but errors like this cloud our prestige. The Judeo-Christian Department
has had more whoopses in this millennium than all of the other departments combined."
Peter turned back to Apu.
"What does this mean?" asked Apu.
"It means somebody screwed up. Don't worry, your karma is good, we'll get you
in a nice new body. Just sit tight."
***
"Where am I?" asked Rebecca Faust.
"You're dead, lady," said Peter. "Were you just in a Seven-Eleven?"
"Yes."
"Just as I thought. Rebecca Faust?"
"That's me. You mean to tell me that I just died?"
"Yes. And the worst is yet to come."
"What do you mean?"
"Did you think that we wouldn't keep track of the money you've been embezzling
from your company?"
"I can explain—"
"I'm sure you can. But until your caseworker is free, you'll have to wait out here.
Just be glad that you are in a grey area about that money right now, or you'd be waiting in
a much hotter place."
***
"Where am I?" asked Thomas Munckee.
"You're dead. You're the last one to come to us from the bomb in the
Seven-Eleven."
"I'm dead? Then how can I be seeing you, hearing you, talking to you?"
"Oh, you're the atheist we've been expecting. I forgot all about that. Well, if you
really think your soul ceases to exist when you're dead, we can arrange it for you if you
like."
"No, that's all right, this is fine. What do you want me to do?"
"Believe... in something, anyway."
"It's a little hard not to, now. Anything else?"
"No. Welcome to the realm of the believers. I hope you enjoy your stay. You
will, after all, be staying for a long time."

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