How to Get to Heaven by Trina Jacobs

“Whatever you do,” said the ghost in the corner, “don’t go into the light.” The young man in a black leather jacket and jeans didn’t look much like a typical ghost to Janet. Not that she’s ever seen a ghost before. He reminded her of Fonzie from Happy Days, except that he was transparent. She could see the doors of the operating room right through him.

“Why not?” she asked, looking at her body lying on the operating table. It was supposed to be a routine procedure, an appendectomy, but something had apparently gone wrong. Doctors and nurses spoke in harsh worried whispers as they worked on her. The heart monitor showed a flat line. She glanced at the ghost, then back to her body.

Fonzie grinned. “You wouldn’t like it there.”

“What?” That was not the answer she expected. “I thought you were going to tell me that it’s not my time yet, or something like that.”

“Oh, it’s your time, all right.”

The brilliant light in the corner beckoned. It was warm and comforting. Janet took a step toward it.

Fonzie waggled a finger at her. “Eh-eh-eh. Don’t do it.”

“Why not?” she asked again. “It’s what everybody does.”

“If everybody else jumped off a bridge. . .”

Janet rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Who are you anyway? Why are you here?”

“I’m your guardian angel.”

“My guardian angel is Fonzie?”

He grinned. “Don’t be silly. I’m not Henry Winkler.”

“So, who are you?”

He blinked a few times. “I just told you.”

“I mean your name. What do I call you?”

Fonzie ran a hand through his jet-black hair. “You couldn’t pronounce my name.” He rubbed his chin with his hand and forefinger. “How about if you call me ‘Bob.'”

Janet stared at him open mouthed. “So, my guardian angel is a greaser named Bob and I’m dead, and I’m not supposed to go to the light.

Bob pointed a finger at her. “Bingo!”

Janet frowned. “What happens now?”

“That’s the question I’ve been waiting for. What do you want to happen?”

“I want to go into the light.”

“Eeeeeehhh!” Bob made an obnoxious game show buzzer noise.

Janet thought for a moment. “I don’t want to be dead. I’m young and healthy. I have so much to live for.” Her voice started to break. “I don’t want to die.” Tears welled up in her ghostly eyes. “Maybe they can bring me back.”

Bob shook his head. “I’m sorry, Janet, but when it’s your time, it’s your time. If you hadn’t made it to the emergency room on time, you’d died of appendicitis. If your appendix hadn’t gone bad, something else would have happened. Maybe you’d have hit by a bus or a stray bullet.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “Who’s going to take care of Mr. Fluffykins?”

Bob smiled gently. “Your cat will be fine. Everybody knows how much you love him. Your sisters and your best friend will have to draw straws to see who gets to adopt him.”

“But why me?” she sobbed, “Why now?”

“I can’t answer that. Only God knows the reasons for what He does. Please don’t cry. I hate to see humans cry.”

“What should I do, if I don’t go to the light? Do I have to stay here and haunt the hospital? ”

Bob chuckled. “Of course not. Come with me.” He held out his hand and she took it.

Suddenly, they were on a cloud. At least it looked like that to Janet. Her feet sank into the clouds but there was some sort of floor underneath. Everything was hazy, like a stereotype of Heaven. Everything but the three doors standing there with no supporting walls. They were labeled “1”, “2”, and “3.”

“Choose a door – one, two, or three,” said Bob.

“The afterlife is game show?”

Bob shrugged. “I try to make it fun.”

Janet walked all the way around each of the doors. “But they don’t go anywhere.”

“Sure, they do. You just can’t see it from here.” Bob rocked back on heels. “Pick a door, Janet,” he grinned.

“Okay,” she frowned. “I’ll take number three.”

Bob rocked up on his toes. “I was hoping you’d pick three! Now, this one isn’t permanent, so you’ll have to choose again later, but you made a great choice!”

Janet looked warily at the door. “So, this goes to purgatory?”

Bob laughed. “Not at all! Open the door and see!”

As soon as she touched the knob, the door faded away and Janet found herself back in the operating room. Or in an operating room. It was dark and empty. “I do have to haunt the hospital for eternity!” she moaned.

“Not for eternity, just for tonight. This a different hospital than the one you were in. This one is haunted.”

“Haunted by who?”

“Us!”

“What?”

“GAG Paranormal Team will be here tonight investigating,” said Bob.

“Gag?” asked Janet.

“It stands for ‘Get a Ghost.’

Janet smiled.

“That’s more like it! We’ll a have a great time!”

“This is what the afterlife is about?”

A sheepish grin crossed Bob’s face. “This just a bonus. A little diversion before the real thing.” He held a hand to his ear. “I think I hear them coming!”

Sure enough, the door opened and two young men dressed in black came in carrying cameras.

“Let’s put a tripod in here, facing the operating table,” said the heavier bearded guy. “I bet a lot of people died in here.”

The thinner guy struggled to set up the tripod camera in the dark room while holding a flashlight. “Sounds good, Fred.”

“Can they see us?” whispered Janet.

“Not usually. Mostly they see what we do.”

“We can move stuff?”

“Sure, It freaks them out. Watch.” Bob causally bumped the tripod camera’s leg.

Skinny guy caught the camera before it toppled over. “Oh my God! Did you see that? Did you get it?”

“See what?” asked Fred.

“Something moved the camera leg!”

“Mark, I wasn’t watching you. I don’t even have my camera on yet.”

“Can they hear us?” whispered Janet.

Bob shook his head. “Not unless we shout.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey you dunderheads!”

Both men stood stock still and wide eyed.

“Did you–?” said Mark.

“It was a man’s voice!” whispered Fred.

“Could you make out the words?”

“I think it said, ‘I was murdered.’

“That’s what I heard!”

Janet giggled.

“They can hear us better if they use their voice recorders, so be sure to shout garbled and non-sensible things,” said Bob.

“Get the EMF detector,” said Mark.

“That’s to find our ghostly selves,” said Bob.

“Where’s the voice recorder?” asked Fred.

“If you’re an angel, not a ghost then why don’t you have wings?” asked Janet.

“You’re asking this now?” said Bob.

“I just thought of it.”

“In my real form, I have wings, but looking at me would burn your eyes out.”

“But I’m already dead. I don’t have eyes to burn out anymore.”

Bob gulped. “I like the greaser look. I was a huge fan of ‘Happy Days.'”

Fred wandered towards Bob and Janet with the EMF detector and the two of them moved away. Bob stuck his hand out in front of the machine.

“I got something!” shouted Fred.

“Are you here?” asked Mark into the voice recorder. “Did you die here? What’s your name? Who murdered you? What’s your favorite color? What year did you die? Do you know you’re dead? Who’s going to win the Superbowl?”

“Does he ever stop to take a breath?” asked Janet.

“Apparently not,” said Bob.

“. . . Do you know what year it is? Who do like better me or Fred? Were you a hot chick? How many ghosts are here?” Mark stopped talking long enough to check the recorder. He shook his head. The only voice on the recorder was his own. So, he started asking questions again.

Janet stood in front of Mark and shouted, “There’s no such thing as a ghost!”

He didn’t appear hear her. “Why is a raven like a writing desk? How old were you when you died?”

Bob shouted, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

“Do prefer dogs or cats? What color is your hair? Did you rent or own your home?”

Janet and Bob both broke into laughter.

“Watch this,” said Bob. He picked up an ancient pair of hemostats and throw them across the room. They hit the wall, then landed with a clatter.

Both ghost hunters stood still and stared at each other. “What was that?” whispered Fred.

“It threw something. Do you think we made it angry? Maybe we got it on camera!” answered Mark.

The guys bumped into each other trying to reach the camera, and nearly knocked it over. A call came over Fred’s walkie-talkie. “Something just flew across the room in there! Did you see it? What was it?”

“We did see it, Amy,” said Fred, “Couldn’t tell what it was.”

Janet laid a hand on Fred’s shoulder and he jumped. “Something just touched me!” He swooshed the EMF detector right through her. “I got something! Feel how cold it is over here!”

Bob pulled Mark’s hair and the man squealed. “Now it’s over here! It pulled my hair!”

Janet tried to pick up a bottle, but her hand went right through it. “Why can’t I pick this up?” she moaned.

“You have to really concentrate, it’s not like it was when you were alive. Try something smaller,” said Bob.

She screwed up her face as she concentrated on a piece of cloth and tried to pick it up. It moved! Janet grinned widely and lost her concentration and the cloth fell.

A wide-eyed Mark nudged Fred. “Did you see that?”

“I did!”

Janet cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “I did that!”

“Did you hear that?” whispered Fred. “It sounded like ‘I’m not dead.'”

“That’s what I heard!” said Mark. He turned on his recorder and held it to his ear. “I got some voices! Listen to this! There’s a female voice that says ‘Get out!’ and a male voice that says a whole sentence but it’s hard to make out.”

“It sounds like ‘Satan something-something murder!”

“Help me with this,” said Bob, moving next to the camera and putting his hands on it. “Let’s move the camera!”

Janet stood beside him, touched the camera, and concentrated as hard as she could. The camera moved several inches and Fred’s walkie screeched, making him jump. Amy’s voice said, “Your camera just moved to the left! Did you see it?”

“I think I’ve seen enough,” said Fred.

“And heard enough,” added Mark, “Let’s try another room.

They approached the camera cautiously and both shrieked when Bob and Janet moved it again.

Janet laughed loudly enough for the ghost-hunters to hear.

“Maybe we should just leave this camera hear for now,” said Fred.

“We can pick it up latter,” Mark dropped his voice, “After daylight.”

That started Bob laughing loudly, too.

The brave ghost-hunters retreated quickly.

“Time to go,” said Bob, and he and Janet were back to cloud-place. There were only two doors left. “Time to choose again.”

“How do I decide?” Janet murmured. Just then a tiny ‘mew’ came from one of the doors and she made her choice. “I’ll take door number two!”

Bob grinned. “Great choice!” He opened to door with a flourish. Inside was a beautiful room full of cats!

Janet gasped. “It’s perfect!”

“This is where you get to spend eternity!”

“What is this place?”

“It’s Heaven with extra cats!” said Bob. Door number one is regular heaven, but since you love Mr. Fluffykins so much, I figured this would be the perfect place for you!”

“It is perfect!” sobbed Janet. She gave Bob a big hug and a peck on the cheek. She wiped a tear from her eye as Bob motioned to her to go in. The door closed behind her and both doors disappeared.

Bob sighed. Another job well done. Another soul sent to heaven instead of into the light that hid the cold empty space of Hell.

—

Trina Jacobs has been writing stories since she was a little girl. She lives in Collinsville, OK with her husband, three dogs, a cat, and a horse.