God stares at me like I'm an idiot.
So does literally everybody I've even come close to knowing in life! Forget about 7 degrees of separation, every single person I've ever seen in life is staring at me too so I'm really on the spot to come up with an answer.
"I don't know," I mutter, staring at my bare feet hanging 10 off a puffy, white cloud in a deep, blue sky with nothing underneath. "I did alright, I guess."
The silence is deafening as I stand in front of the largest crowd I've ever seen, each staring at me along with God herself who apparently has all of the time in the Universe waiting on me to tell everyone how I believe I did.
"He did great!" someone yells from a couple of miles back in the crowd.
"Yes Jimmy," God says, and instantly Jimmy Morrell's standing beside me.
Tall, skinny as a rail, crazy long brown hair that goes wherever it wants, Jimmy looks just like he did when we were in Groves High School. It's been near 20 years since he died so I'm a bit taken back that he's here!
"Go ahead," God smiles beatifically and the deep blue sky turns lighter and, I don't know, more airy if that makes any sense.
"Mike lives life hard and fast," he begins and my stomach is churning crazily as I recall the last time we saw each other over lunch at Johnny Harris' Restaurant decades earlier.
I was cocky as Hell in those days and can't remember the details of our conversation, only that I was very happy we'd had met afterwards.
"There weren't many stones Mike didn't look under in his life, even those he should have left alone."
"Shit!" I mutter.
"What?" Jimmy asks.
"Never mind," God says. "Anything else Jimmy?"
"Yeah," Jimmy now mumbles, looking at his own bare feet, and wistfully adds, "I wish I'd turned over more rocks."
God smiles and hugs Jimmy, "What are you talking about?" she laughs. "You were great! The way you took care of your Mom! Gave your own life away for her."
I don't know what to do so, I join God and hug Jimmy too.
"Let's proceed," God announces and I see Jimmy waving at me from a couple of miles back in the crowd, standing beside Wayne Sears, and I'm wondering where's my Dad?
"It's rare someone does that," God informs me. "You should count yourself as blessed."
"What are you talking about?" I exclaim. "I've had the most blessed life ... so far!! You crazy telling me that! I know what a great life I had!"
God bursts out laughing and several million in the crowd join her. If you've ever been laughed at publically you know it's tough. Thankfully I've had lots of experience so it doesn't bother me too bad though it still stings.
"What about the bad things?" God asks, leaning back on her throne, grinning.
"Yeah, well, I don't know God," I stammer. "Shit happens!"
Laughter erupts again and God is doubled over and the noise is the most joyful sounds I've ever heard.
Wiping tears from her eyes, still grinning God stares again, continuing. "What about the bad things you did?"
"Yeah," I mutter and confess, "I think about that a lot. I used to never think about it but, lately, it's like everything I ever did that wasn't my best haunts me. It's not that I regret them but I know I could have done better. I should have done better! I don't think there's anything you can do to punish me more than I've already punished myself."
God burst out laughing again so, of course, the whole damn multitude joins in and I'm embarrassed.
"Well then," God grins again, dragging a sleeve from the whitest robe I've ever seen across her nose, " are you finished then?"
"Finished what?"
"Living."
"Hell no," I exclaim. "Sarah's probably wondering where I am. I gotta get home before Che wakes up."
"Okay then," God thunders, "you have a little more time. Don't screw it up. If you don't, then when you come back in a little while you can by-pass 'Judgment' and go to the much shorter, 'Preferred Enrollee' line" and claps her hand so loudly I close my eyes.
Opening them, I see the clock on the stove flashes 4:55 am in the darkness. A cold cup of coffee rests on the table beside me. Carole King sings she's "been to Canaan and won't rest until she goes back again" in my earbuds. Lainey sleeps under my bare, dangling feet at the dining room table. Sarah, Che and Cass are sleeping in their bedrooms.
I sit prayer like in the afterglow of, I don't know, a light and airy satisfaction that there's nothing to be angry or judgmental over.
It's peaceful for a several long, slow, delightful minutes until Lainey farts, jerking me out of this reverie and I use the Lord's name in vain.
Carole stops singing and, in the silence, I hear Che call, "Da!"
