“Well, if you must know, you’re probably going down to the Seventh Circle which is where blasphemers are punished. You’ll have to lie in a desert of burning sand while fire rains down on you.”
“And I’ll wander?”
“No, you’ll lie down. The sodomites get to wander. I don’t know why that is.”
Sister Mary began to cry.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” she said. “I failed my Lord. I blasphemed and now I’ll be burned in the fires of Hell for eternity and I deserve it.”
“Look,” Satan said. “I don’t think ‘deserve’ has much to do with it. I’ve been around pretty much since the beginning and there are a lot of things that make the Universe go round – gravity, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, feng shui – but nowhere on that list are you going to find ‘deserve.’ That concept exists nowhere except in the minds of men. So give up on this deserve business. You’re going to Hell because you forgot to cancel an automatically renewing membership in an atheist society. That’s all. You were probably a great nun.”
“No,” Sister Mary said. “I wasn’t. I was fearful and cowardly and I killed a lot of people.”
“Come again?”
“I killed people with my prayers,” Sister Mary said. “Every time I prayed for someone they passed. Now I see that it was the atheism that made my prayers toxic.”
“Yeah,” Satan said. “That actually sounds just petty and ridiculous enough to be true.”
Then the elevator bumped to a stop, the doors dinged open and they found themselves in Heaven.
The first thing people notice about Heaven is how good it smells. Sometimes it smells like freshly baked cookies. Sometimes it smells like warm puppies. Sometimes it smells like clean laundry, drying in the sun, or Cape Cod after a spring rain, or like Massachusetts in October. Martha Stewart had actually designed Heaven’s entire aroma palette before she was born. She doesn’t remember doing it, but one day she’s going to die and ascend into the clouds and she will walk through Heaven’s lobby and she will think to herself, “This smells exactly right.”
Sister Mary and Satan stumbled out of their cramped elevator and into an enormous lobby the size of a small convention center. The bewitching scent of freshly mown grass wafted through the air. Done in tasteful neutral shades of slate, cinereous, feldgrau and Xanadu, Heaven’s lobby had a long row of elevator doors marching down one side and a series of smooth, corporate information desks lining the other. The occasional angel flapped by overhead. Wisps of pink cloud tumble-weeded lazily across the carpet.
Satan led Mary to one of the information desks. Behind it sat a balding, middle-aged man with a long white beard. He was dressed in a woman’s blouse with a silk neckerchief tied at a jaunty angle and he was wearing a Bluetooth headset.
“Welcome to Heaven,” he said. “Congratulations, you’ve lived a righteous life and you’ll be spending eternity with us. You’ll find that Heaven is comfortable, affordable and equipped with all the conveniences that make will make your stay...Heavenly.”
“It’s me, Peter,” Satan said. “I need to see Michael.”
“I didn’t recognize you,” Saint Peter said. “You look so old and pale. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but – ”
“Then I’m sorry, but we’re all very busy and no one has the time to sit down and visit with you right now.”
“Vicar of Christ, Father of the Church,” Mary said, kneeling. “This humble sinner beseeches you – ”
“Who’s the fattie?” Peter asked.
“She’s who I wanted to ask about.”
“No appointment means no entry, so you and your chunky monkey can toddle on back down to Earth now.”
“I really need to see Michael,” Satan said.
“You said that, and then I said no, and then we ended our thrilling conversation,” Peter said. “Don’t you remember?”
“Can you give him a message for me?” Satan asked.
“Let me see. Hmmmm...” Saint Peter pretended to think. “No.”
“He needs to know that – “
“Have a blessed day.”
“You’re going to be in a lot of trouble when Michael finds out about this,” Satan said.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Saint Peter said, waggling his fingers at them.
He watched until Satan and Mary Renfro had boarded an elevator and then he picked up his phone.
“That nun is still alive,” he said. “Someone who’s not me needs to do something about it.”
On the elevator, Mary beamed exultantly. She had been so near to the presence of her Lord that she felt His greatness