TDX2 - Too Dull To Die, Page 2

my list. You’ve never hurt anyone. You’re so…well, I thought what kind of good experiences could you have done to earn yourself a place on my list, but now it’s quite logical.” Graham got out his phone again.

  “Yes, I’ve never hurt, sorry, I never hurt anyone because I tried not to get involved.”

  “Yes, that would work.”

  “Yes.”

  “But it means, Guido, that if you didn’t get involved, then you didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes. I’m dead but I never lived. That’s a bit…”

  “…sad?”

  “You said it.” Guido slumped in his seated position. “I never lived. And now you take me away before…before…”

  “I guess so.”

  “You guess so? Come on, this just isn’t fair!”

  “Not fair at all. This physical universe is so indifferent.”

  With that, Guido felt deflated. “Yes, I suppose so.” They sat together in silence. “No.”

  “What?”

  “No.” Guido stood up.

  “No what?”

  “I’m not having it.”

  “Not having what?”

  “Death. This death thing. I’m not having it.”

  “Yes, you are, sorry, yes, you did. You died about 15 minutes ago.”

  “Well, I’m not having it!” Guido clenched his fists. “I want to live.”

  “That’s a first.”

  “Is it?”

  “No. But I thought you’d feel better if you thought it was.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” Guido didn’t know what to do. It was the first time in his life…death…that he wasn’t accepting something, the first time he’d ever stood up for something. Probably a bit late, right at the end of his…existence.

  “Nothing else for it, then.” Graham stood up and grabbed Guido’s arm.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to have to take you ‘up’ myself. Forget the angels, they wouldn’t take you like this. And if I don’t take you, someone else might.” Guido felt his arm being squeezed under Graham’s grip.

  “But…but…” In front of him a light appeared, and inside that light grew a tunnel. “Is that…?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s a light tunnel for quick transportation.” Graham pushed Guido and they both moved into the light.

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  2

  The journey was over in a flash, and Guido fell to his knees on the soft ground. “Are we…is this…heaven?” Guido saw a large golden gate on the cloud-like surface.

  “No. Heaven is a fictitious place created by some greedy monkeys to manipulate the masses.” Guido was left to stare at the gates in awe. ”This, however, is ‘up above’. Better than ‘down below’, I’m telling you.” A white receptionist’s desk came into view from the right, with a smiling angel standing behind it. Graham greeted the angel and handed over some paperwork.

  “Hello, Peter.”

  “Good day to you, and Welcome! Oh, hello Graham.” Peter’s smile diminished.

  “Is that…an angel?” Guido got off his knees, his heart beating a little stronger now, least the representation of his heart in this form.

  “How are you today, Peter?” Graham asked.

  “Fine, fine.” Peter looked over to Guido and whispered to Graham. “Isn’t he a little ‘overdressed’?”

  “Yes, he hasn’t completely changed yet.”

  “So what’s he doing ‘up above’? Surely he should go somewhere else?”

  “He’s on my list, what could I do?” Graham showed Peter his list.

  “Really?” Peter looked down the list. “Is he this one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that a name or a special type of regional crème brûlée?”

  “Sign him in, will you? I know what to do with him.”

  “Of course.” Peter smiled his special smile at Guido, who was gawking at him. “Another goldfish, I see. Sir? Could you step this way, please? Hello?” Guido, his mouth wide open, tried to greet Peter back.

  “Hello.”

  “Finally. May I have your name, please, sir?”

  “I just gave you that.” Graham showed his list again.

  “Formalities. The soul has to give its own name.”

  “Oh.”

  “Guido.” He couldn’t believe he was talking to an angel.

  “Yes, sir. Could you please write it down in full?” Peter pushed a pen into Guido’s hand and got him to write it down. He then looked Guido over and spoke aside to Graham. “He’s surely got a problem.”

  “Yes, he says he doesn’t want to die.”

  “He’s not the first.”

  “He says he never lived.” Peter lost his smile.

  “I don’t understand. Isn’t that what they’re meant to be doing down there?” Guido was still doing an impression of a goldfish.

  “He says he hadn’t started, and he was just about to when I took him.”

  “Really? With a name like that?”

  “Yeah, can you believe it?”

  Peter went on a tangent. “By the way, do you have any Jaffa Cakes?”

  “I’ll get some for you on the way back next time, okay?”

  “Thanks.” They both turned to Guido, who was now slowly turning around continuously, overawed by the place. “Good thing we don’t have flies here.”

  “I wish…I wish I’d gone to church now.”

  “Church?” Peter looked confused. “Oh, that.”

  “I did, honestly, I did.” Guido realised that maybe up here they’d know when someone had told a small lie. “Well, I mean, well, I didn’t really go, no. Except for that time we all had to try out for the choir in the 4th grade, but I don’t think that counts, does it?” Both Graham and Peter stared at him without saying a word. “Is that bad?”

  Graham and Peter spoke in unison. “No.”

  “What?” Guido moved around, trying to get his bearings. “Doesn’t it matter?”

  Graham took up the question. “No, it doesn’t, no. Religion’s got nothing to do with this place, believe me. Only good people get through those gates, and going to church isn’t such a big decider.”

  “What is?” Peter left the conversation and turned to do some other work.

  “Thanks, Peter.”

  “So, what is?” Guido copied Peter’s side remark with a serious question.

  “There, you started him off now. Being good, and that’s all, really.”

  “Oh.” Guido scratched his head.”Are you telling me there aren’t any popes up here?”

  “Not all of them, no. Peter?”

  “Yes?” Peter turned back and gave them his complete attention.

  “See you later.”

  “Aren’t you going to wait?”

  “Wait for what?”

  “For him to change. He can’t go in like that.” Guido looked himself over again. Same clothes, same look. There was nothing wrong with him.

  “I don’t think he’s going to change.” Graham led Guido to the gates.

  “I’m telling you he can’t go in like that.”

  “And then what? I’ll leave him here then, shall I?” Peter looked at Guido, who smiled one of his best smiles.

  “Err, no, I don’t think so. Off you go, have a good time.” Peter shooed them away, flapping his wings to clear the stress of the moment.

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  3

  It wasn’t what Guido thought heaven, the after-life or whatever they called it up here, would be. He’d thought about flowers, sweet fragrances, angels singing, complete bliss and cleanliness. At least it was white. In fact, everything was white, right down to the wastepaper basket. What he saw was a large open space office, filled with people dealing with what he assumed to be souls, hovering light forms. Chaos, complete chaos. Guido tried to keep up with Graham but Guido was forever looking around at the white everything: walls, pictures, desks, clothes, drinks, computers, staff. A large crowd of souls floated by and he lost sight of Graham. Walking
around aimlessly, he was pushed by another crowd over to a desk with the sign ‘Processing’.

  “Next!” A fat middle-aged woman dressed in white addressed him in disgust. ”Name, please.”

  “Err…”

  “’Err’. Is that one ‘r’ or two ‘r’s?” Her body flopped over the desk as she started to write.

  “No, that’s not my name.”

  “Then why did you say it was?”

  “I didn’t.” The fat woman sighed.

  “Name?” Guido remembered the million and one times he’d been in this same situation in his life in some official capacity, and didn’t wish to experience it again. Not even in his death. He’d been lucky with the angel at the gate.

  “Can I write it down for you, please?”

  “Whatever.” The fat woman raised her eyebrows and gave him the pen and paper. Guido wrote his full name down and gave them back.

  “Oh, how interesting...”

  “Interesting? That’s a refreshing change. People usually think my name is irritating…” The fat woman gave Guido the hardest stare he’d ever been given.

  “I was about to say how interestingly irritating your name is. In all my thousands of years of taking names, I’ve never heard one as excruciatingly irritating as yours. Congratulations.”

  “Err, thank you?”

  “How ever did you receive it?”

  “Well, that’s a long and, if I say so myself, very interesting story. You see, my father, who’d…”

  “Next! Move along, move along.” Guido was pushed from behind by a large glowing soul. As he was following some others down an aisle towards a large open door, a hand grabbed him and pulled him out from the crowd.

  “What are you doing, Guido? I thought you wanted to live?”

  “I do. Sorry, I got lost, I think.”

  “Yes, you did. We’re over here.” Graham dragged him over to another desk, with yet another fat woman all dressed in white.

  “Hello Mavis.” Graham greeted the woman, and Guido nodded.

  “Hello Graham. What are you doing back so