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Charlie in Purgatory
Jan. 24th, 2005 05:36 amTime, of course, has no meaning when you're looking at eternity, so Charlie has no idea how long it's been since he got into line in this vast grey room. But here he is at the front at last, facing an enormous desk and a bored-looking clerk. "Name?" the clerk says as his assistant clears weights off an old-fashioned double scale.
"Er--Charles Andrew Jonathan Pace."
"Pace, Pace," the clerk mumbles as he leaves throught a stack of files. He pulls out a rather thick file from the bottom, then raises an eyebrow at Charlie. "You're early."
"Oh." He feels vaguely that he should apologize for that.
The clerk waits, then taps the sign over his head, which reads PLEASE HAVE YOUR HEART OUT AND READY FOR WEIGHING. "Your heart, Mr. Pace? You're holding up the line."
"Oh," Charlie says again, and then as if it's nothing reaches into his chest and pulls out his heart. He hands it to the clerk who gives it to the assistant, who places it on the scale.
"All right, let's begin. Says here you died without last rites."
"No priest," Charlie explains. "I was murdered."
"I'm aware of that," the clerk says, looking at him over his glasses. "It's all here, Mr. Pace." The assistant begins piling weights on the other side. "And--oh, goodness--you were rather busy in your lifetime, weren't you? This list of lovers is enormous--the research alone--" He tsks and the assistant piles on more weights. "You were good to your mother, at least." He nods to the assistant, who sighs and removes some of the weights. "And to most of your friends--though we're rather prone to violence when we lose our temper, aren't we?" The assistant giggles and puts some weights back on. "And--oh. Do you wish to invoke the Milliways clause?"
"Er--the what?"
"The Milliways clause. Didn't you read the handbook?"
"I didn't get a handbook."
The clerk rolls his eyes and mutters, "Demons, can't trust them to do anything." He says in a bored tone, "Section four nineteen paragraph h: 'All souls who spend time in Milliways may use their deeds therein to count double at the final judgement.' Do you wish to invoke the Milliways clause?"
"Um. Yes."
"Right, right." He leafs through the papers to the back of the pile. "All right. Quit the drugs. Good on you. Took a few lovers." He raises his eyebrows at Charlie. "Betrayed them, as well, I see."
Charlie presses his lips together and says nothing.
"Of course you did ask forgiveness . . . and was given it . . ." The assistant is waiting to put on weights, bouncing rather impatiently on the balls of his feet. "Used your gift to make people happy. Well. Good on you for that, too. Reconciled with family . . . advised and consoled . . . And. Hm." He picks up another book and looks through it, frowning. "Drat. Nothing here on whether loving an angel counts for you or against you. Used to automatically be against but the rules changed on that so many times . . ."
Charlie swallows and waits.
"And look at the people who mourned you. That's quite a list. Even--oh, I haven't seen this name in a long time. H'rm." He shuts the book and the file, and the assistant puts a few more weights on the scale. His heart is still heavier than the other side, and Charlie wonders if that's a good thing or a bad. He suspects bad. "All right, Mr. Pace, in view of your sins and your good deeds I'm afraid--" He breaks off as another clerk comes to the desk and whispers into his ear. "What? Are you serious?" They both whisper some more and look at him. "You can't be serious."
"Orders from the top," the new clerk says with a shrug.
"One of these days I'd like to be informed of a change when it actually happens," the first clerk says with a snort, and the assistant, looking depressed, clears all the weights off the scale. The clerk hands Charlie his heart. "We need you to return to the waiting room, Mr. Pace. There's an issue."
Charlie puts his heart back into his chest. "An issue? What's going on?"
"Remember how I said you're early? You're very early. And apparently some loopholes are going to be invoked on your behalf. It's rather unclear at the moment. Next!"
"But," Charlie begins, but the next soul is already placing his heart in the clerk's hands. He looks at the endless line, bewildered, and starts the long walk back to the front doors.
"Er--Charles Andrew Jonathan Pace."
"Pace, Pace," the clerk mumbles as he leaves throught a stack of files. He pulls out a rather thick file from the bottom, then raises an eyebrow at Charlie. "You're early."
"Oh." He feels vaguely that he should apologize for that.
The clerk waits, then taps the sign over his head, which reads PLEASE HAVE YOUR HEART OUT AND READY FOR WEIGHING. "Your heart, Mr. Pace? You're holding up the line."
"Oh," Charlie says again, and then as if it's nothing reaches into his chest and pulls out his heart. He hands it to the clerk who gives it to the assistant, who places it on the scale.
"All right, let's begin. Says here you died without last rites."
"No priest," Charlie explains. "I was murdered."
"I'm aware of that," the clerk says, looking at him over his glasses. "It's all here, Mr. Pace." The assistant begins piling weights on the other side. "And--oh, goodness--you were rather busy in your lifetime, weren't you? This list of lovers is enormous--the research alone--" He tsks and the assistant piles on more weights. "You were good to your mother, at least." He nods to the assistant, who sighs and removes some of the weights. "And to most of your friends--though we're rather prone to violence when we lose our temper, aren't we?" The assistant giggles and puts some weights back on. "And--oh. Do you wish to invoke the Milliways clause?"
"Er--the what?"
"The Milliways clause. Didn't you read the handbook?"
"I didn't get a handbook."
The clerk rolls his eyes and mutters, "Demons, can't trust them to do anything." He says in a bored tone, "Section four nineteen paragraph h: 'All souls who spend time in Milliways may use their deeds therein to count double at the final judgement.' Do you wish to invoke the Milliways clause?"
"Um. Yes."
"Right, right." He leafs through the papers to the back of the pile. "All right. Quit the drugs. Good on you. Took a few lovers." He raises his eyebrows at Charlie. "Betrayed them, as well, I see."
Charlie presses his lips together and says nothing.
"Of course you did ask forgiveness . . . and was given it . . ." The assistant is waiting to put on weights, bouncing rather impatiently on the balls of his feet. "Used your gift to make people happy. Well. Good on you for that, too. Reconciled with family . . . advised and consoled . . . And. Hm." He picks up another book and looks through it, frowning. "Drat. Nothing here on whether loving an angel counts for you or against you. Used to automatically be against but the rules changed on that so many times . . ."
Charlie swallows and waits.
"And look at the people who mourned you. That's quite a list. Even--oh, I haven't seen this name in a long time. H'rm." He shuts the book and the file, and the assistant puts a few more weights on the scale. His heart is still heavier than the other side, and Charlie wonders if that's a good thing or a bad. He suspects bad. "All right, Mr. Pace, in view of your sins and your good deeds I'm afraid--" He breaks off as another clerk comes to the desk and whispers into his ear. "What? Are you serious?" They both whisper some more and look at him. "You can't be serious."
"Orders from the top," the new clerk says with a shrug.
"One of these days I'd like to be informed of a change when it actually happens," the first clerk says with a snort, and the assistant, looking depressed, clears all the weights off the scale. The clerk hands Charlie his heart. "We need you to return to the waiting room, Mr. Pace. There's an issue."
Charlie puts his heart back into his chest. "An issue? What's going on?"
"Remember how I said you're early? You're very early. And apparently some loopholes are going to be invoked on your behalf. It's rather unclear at the moment. Next!"
"But," Charlie begins, but the next soul is already placing his heart in the clerk's hands. He looks at the endless line, bewildered, and starts the long walk back to the front doors.
