The votes are in

A fellow - we'll call him Mike - was walking down the street one morning. Not paying attention, he stepped off the curb without looking and was struck by a runaway beer truck. He died instantly.

When he reached the Pearly Gates, St. Peter was there to meet him.

"Hello," Mike says. "I'm here to get into heaven."

"Well, let's check the Great Book," St. Peter says as he starts flipping the pages looking for Mike's name.

"Good news, sir," St. Peter says, "It says here you are eligible to get into heaven. Unfortunately, it also says that you must spend 24 hours in hell to atone for your sins."

This disturbed Mike. Like anyone, he'd sinned in life. But he tried to live a good life, and was an involved member of his church. He'd been taught his whole life about heaven, and he wanted to get in.

"I'd rather not go to hell, even for 24 hours," Mike says.

"I'm sorry, sir." St. Peter responds. "We have to follow what it says in the Great Book. The good thing, though, is when your 24 hours are over, you'll get to choose whether you want to go to heaven or to hell."

St. Peter escorts Mike over to a bank of elevators. He places Mike on one of them and pressed the down button. When the elevator reaches the bottom and the doors open, Mike can't believe his eyes.

It's the most beautiful place he's ever seen. Flowers are blooming all around him. A canopy of tall, proud oak trees provides plenty of shade. Birds are singing.

To his left, Mike sees a golf course so green and lush it makes Augusta National look like a puttputt course. He spots a group of his friends getting ready to tee off. They're dressed in brand-new Ralph Lauren golf shirts and they're using brand-new state-of-the-art Mizuno clubs.

To his right, he sees a lovely plantation-style clubhouse. Workers are scurrying about getting ready for a special lobster dinner. Deliverymen are unloading cases of Dom Perignon champagne. A group of beautiful young women in sundresses sit on the veranda sipping mint juleps.

About that time, the devil himself walks up and hands Mike a martini.

"Hello there. Welcome. I hope you've found everything to your liking," the devil says. If we can do anything to help you, please find me or one of my associates."

Mike thanks the devil and turns to walk toward his friends on the first tee. Before he gets there, one of the devil's assistants taps him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir. I hate to interrupt you, but you are only scheduled to be here 24 hours and your time is up. You have to go."

The assistant walks Mike back to the elevators and punches the up button.

On the way back to heaven, Mike is torn. He'd always wanted to spend his afterlife in heaven. But then, hell wasn't exactly like he expected it to be. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell St. Peter.

When the elevator reached the top, Mike stepped off and was greeted by St. Peter.

“You’ve served your 24 hours, and you are now eligible to get into heaven," St. Peter says. But first you must choose which place you’d rather be.”

Mike pondered the choice he faced. He thought about his lifelong dream of going to heaven. Then he thought about the fun life his friends seemed to be living in hell. Finally, he had a decision.

“St. Peter, I’m sorry to do this, but I’ve decided that I would like to go back to hell and be with my friends.”

“Well, that’s certainly your choice,” St. Peter says. “We hate when we lose somebody, but you’ve made your choice.”

St. Peter takes Mike back to the elevator and presses the down button.

As the elevator goes down, Mike thinks about spending eternity playing a beautiful golf course by day and dining on fancy food with beautiful women by night.

But when the elevator doors open, everything is different. The place looks like a war zone. Trees are dying. The golf course is overgrown with shrubs and weeds. The clubhouse is little more than a rundown shack.

His friends are still there, but they are now dressed in rags. They look dirty and hungry.

“What in the world is happening here,” Mike asks the devil. “Yesterday, it was so beautiful and
perfect here. But today, everything is different.” “Oh, that’s easy to explain,” the devil says.

“Yesterday, we were campaigning. Today, you’ve already voted.”

Mitch Clarke is executive editor of The Times in Gainesville, Ga. He can be reached at mclarke@gainesvilletimes.com.

 

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