Page 6 of Angels Fall

“Is that what hell is?”

“Maybe? Not sure. Haven’t been in a while, but they do some freaky shit down there. But anyway,” He continues, “the only reason you’re not there is because I’ve always kind of liked you for some reason. Not sure why. But I have. And so instead of letting you suffer down there for eternity… um, I’m gonna let you suffer here.”

“What?” I ask, understandably. “What does that mean?”

“It MEANS, Mocha-Choca-Latte, that you broke it, you bought it. You took all that was good and you fucked it up. So you’re gonna help me rebuild it. Plate by plate. Cloud by cloud. Whatever. You have to fix what you fucked.” He’s now eating an apple. I have no idea where he got the apple. It just kind of appeared. Which should not even enter my consciousness as the weirdest thing about what’s happening right now, but it does.

“So— I start.

“OR,” He interrupts.

“Or what?”

“OR… you can do something MUCH harder.”

Harder than spending eternity in hard labor trying to rebuild heaven? I’m afraid to ask. But I do. “Harder? What’s that?”

“Same thing, only you probably gotta confront a less forgiving soul than yours truly. I’m saying there’s another way to restore this joint to its previous glory. I can send you back down to earth and you can make right what you did wrong down there.”

I pause, considering what he’s saying.

“You mean with Maddie?”

“No, dude, with Celine Dion. YES, of course with Maddie, you fucktard!”

Seriously. A real dick.

“But… How would I even start? I fucked up so badly that I can’t even—”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Shit, man. You are not living up to my expectations at all. Damn, I didn’t save you from that explosion and then dump all that fucking money in your lap for nothing. I expected you to do some good shit with it! You really fucked that one up, though, didn’t you?”

“You—”

“Of course it was me! You think an asshole like you has something like that happen to them by accident? Wake up, Little Susie!”

He takes a bite of his apple.

I sit there for a beat, dumbfounded and unsure how to respond. So I just say, “Why me?”

“Why you? I dunno. Maybe because with that scraggly hair and beard you’re rocking, you ... you know, you ... remind me of someone.”

“Jesus?” I ask.

“No, no, don’t be stupid. Oh! I know! Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall! That’s who it is! Ugh, been driving me crazy. But also… no real reason. Not one you could ever understand, anyway. Sorry, man. I know you probably want a better answer than that, but… Humans are funny, dude. I give you a cerebral cortex and now you’re always trying to find the MEANING behind shit. Well, sometimes I just do stuff for no comprehensible rationale at all. But what can I tell you? I work in mysterious ways.”

“But—” I start.

“Okay, okay,” He cuts me off. “You want a reason, you want a reason, why you? Of all the seven billion dipshits on earth, why you? Well, honestly, dude… it’s because despite your best efforts to be an asshole all the time, deep down, you’re one of the best people I ever created. You just can’t see it.”

Even with all the stunning things happening to me right now, this particular comment takes the cake. And then I remember that Evan said the same thing to me just hours before when I was with him before I set paradise on fire.

“That’s…” I mumble. “My friend Evan said the same thing earlier.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Who do you think put it in his head to say it? Fuck, bro, I’m starting to wonder if being dead has fucked with your think-box too much.”

He sits there, shaking his head, half smiling at me. There’s so much about what’s happening that I can’t get my brain around that I don’t know where to start. So instead, I just say, “Y’know, you swear a lot more than I thought you would.”

“Whatever, bro,” he says back, “they’re just words. I didn’t invent ’em. You assholes did. They don’t mean anything. Unless. You give them meaning.”