“Hello there,” a man’s voice says.
I open my eyes and realize I’m standing on a pier. Snow lies in small, shoveled heaps along the edges and the sky is a cloudless grey. It’s cold yet I feel nothing.
“I bet you’re wondering why you’re naked?”
Looking down I see that the voice is right but feel no need to cover myself up. Turning to my right, I see him.
He’s an older man with thin, white hair combed to the side. Thick rimmed glasses rest upon his nose magnifying his green eyes.
“My name’s Horton,” he says extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Herman Trotter.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“There’s no easy way to say it so I’ll just come out with it. You’re dead.”
I blink twice. “Dead?”
“Unfortunately. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Thinking back, I easily find the memory. “I was filling my truck up with gas.”
Horton nods and says, “While you were filling your truck, two rival gangs got into a shootout. A bullet ricocheted off the pavement and penetrated your skull just behind your right ear. You were dead before you hit the ground.”
I take the information in stride, knowing that it’s true. Looking at the pier, snow and the sky, nothing here seems alive, myself included.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” Horton says.
“If you’re in Heaven or Hell.”
“I’m an… was an atheist. I’d never given much thought to where I would end up.”
Horton laughs and says, “Some atheists are like that. You may not believe in a god but you still have a soul and when your physical body expires, your soul has to go somewhere.”
“Where exactly is that?”
He places his hand on my back between my shoulder blades and gently ushers me down the pier. “To the Blue.”
For the first time since I arrived, I look out beyond the end of the pier.
Upon first glance it looks like the ocean with waves rolling about, gently lapping against rocks along the shore. I then notice it’s navy blue in color with streaks of aqua green and black cutting through the jelly-like texture at various intervals. Beneath the surface, flashes of white flicker like lightning.
“What is it?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“That, my friend, is the resting place for mankind’s atheist souls. Good or bad, they all come here in the end.”
I have a strong urge to leap off the pier into it.
“What’s your role in this?” I ask.
“I’m the administrator. It’s my job to keep track of who goes into the Blue.”
“How do you do that?”
Horton reaches into his inner coat pocket, pulling out a folded paper and gold pen. “Whenever someone new arrives, they must sign this registration before they go into the Blue.”
Although I don’t want to, I pull my eyes away from the Blue and look at him. “Is that it?”
Horton nods and says, “Alexander the Great asked me the same question before he went in and yes, that’s it.”
My eyes find their way back to the Blue while I reach out for the pen. Gripping it in my hand I barely manage to scribble my name along the dotted line.
“Very good,” Horton says. He folds the paper up and slides it back inside his coat. “Whenever you’re ready, you may jump.”
I’m already in the air falling towards the Blue before he gets the words out.
There is no splash.
The sensation of falling is instantly replaced by bliss. My eyes are open and while I don’t see anyone, I connect with them; with everyone in the Blue. Time stands still as I fully accept the Blue’s embrace.
Below me is a flash.
I don’t think much of it until the searing pain hits me.
We all cry out without making a sound.
Another flash flickers below, but closer.
And I see it.
Swimming amidst the Blue is a translucent eel-like shape with a large mouth. It emits a flash each time its mouth opens, exposing row upon row of teeth.
It’s taking bites out of the Blue.
I begin swimming… struggling towards the surface. When I finally break through, I cry out, “Horton!”
The old man is still standing on the pier and he looks down at me, puzzled.
“Why Mister Trotter,” he says. “Whatever is the matter?”
“What the hell is in here with us?”
I briefly slip below the surface but rise up again.
“We call them the Translucies.”
“They’re eating us!”
Horton laughs and says, “Well of course they are. How else do you expect us to maintain the maximum number of souls allowed in the Blue at one time?”
He begins saying something else, words I don’t hear as I slip below the surface; down into the Blue.
~ Jon Olson
© Copyright 2016 Jon Olson. All Rights Reserved