DIVINE CHANCE

Jonathan McBride fell into endless darkness. He was lost in the cataclysmic disaster of his own reason and meaning. As he descended further, the lines of his life trembled and blurred only to become overwhelmingly clear again, a pristine recollection of all that he had once been forcing his thoughts into painful alignment. In that glorious moment of hindsight all was pure clarity. A persistent journey of recollection, disappointment and joy brought him full circle to an unknown place. Confusion returned and the epiphany was lost.

***

Jonathan gasped with panic and urgency as if breathing air for the first time after nearly drowning. His eyes flew open, only to be instantly blinded by a blazing white light and he forced them closed again. He squinted, blinked and rubbed at his eyes. After several tentative peeks his eyesight began to clear and he leaned back into the worn plastic chair. It was an awful, gaudy, ugly, bright orange plastic chair. Had someone stolen it from the DMV or perhaps the local welfare office? Jonathan spun with confusion. Where was he? Must focus. The light is so bright!

He looked down at his feet. Faded plaid slippers. His favorite. Was he in the emergency room? Saint Vincent’s. Where was Gabrielle? Nausea. He reeled. Closed his eyes. Focus, focus, focus. A shuffle to the right, a noise, a mutter, a cough. He dared to peek through a slit. An old black man, morbidly wrinkled with wide white hair grimaced at him, an oddly benevolent saber tooth grin. “You ok mister?” The man’s question screamed, echoed and reverberated in his head. He cowered back, trying to escape the painfully uncomfortable noise. “Takes a minute to get used to, but you’ll be ok I warrant. Just settle down some and let it pass.” The voice was less penetrating this time, but still awful and jarringly discordant.

Jonathan closed his eyes and swallowed back bile. Head lolling, he looked to his left. A frail old Chinese woman with large yellow teeth stared him, wide-eyed and frantic. Oh god. It was a nightmare…' it had to be. Gabrielle wake me up. Oh please god, Gabrielle wake me up!

“Be careful of that kind’a talk here.” It was the old man again, his voice less intrusive this time. “That kind’a talk could cost us our luck. Too close to the source and all.” Another wave of nausea, and another passing cloud of incoherency then the panic suddenly began to ebb.

The horrid orange chair pressed hard into his back. His rubbed both eyes firmly with the heel of his palms. When he looked again, it was upon a sea of orange chairs just like his own. Sitting in each one were people of vastly varying shapes and sizes. Men, women and children. Business suites, dresses, shorts, lingerie, jeans, sports uniforms, bathing suits, formal gowns and even pajamas like his own. Yes, yes. My pajamas! But why am I wearing them here? Where is here?

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus.

He was in an enormous, gargantuan, titan of a hall. Not an ordinary emergency room if that was what this place was. Not a doctor or nurse to be seen. No machines no doors, no hallways. In fact this room seemed limitless. To the furthest reaches of his vision groups of people sat together in large uniform wedges facing a large round raised platform. Aboriginies, Native Americans, Africans, Jewish folk. Sometimes the groups seemed to be of all one nationality or culture, but in others, such as the group he was seated with, were placed together with no seeming rhyme or reason.

Jonathan looked up and saw several sheets of ivory parchment floating down from the ceiling throughout the room. They seemed to instantly appear, from out of nowhere, as if conjured by a magician. One was making its way down directly above his head, gliding about in a slow playful dance to and fro. It passed inches from his nose to land softly on his lap. It was a notice of sorts, printed in an elegant script.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hello Jonathan! Welcome to
DIVINE CHANCE
The only lottery that matters!
Hosted by Your’s Truly – the ONE – the ONLY
GOD

I hope you have enjoyed your time on Earth, for it is now finished. Yes my friend, you are dead! So please, sit back, relax with your fellow believers and get ready for today’s lottery. The festivities will begin once all of the departed have arrived.

GOOD LUCK!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*


After reading the note several times, Jonathan decided that he must simply be in the throes of a dream, however vivid it may be. This was the only rational explanation his mind could produce to justify this bizarre nonsense. He relaxed, his panic conceding to a smug satisfaction at the brilliance of his triumphant discovery. To Jonathan it was common knowledge that once a terrible situation was revealed as a mere dream, it would immediately diminish and become once again an insubstantial phenomena of biology. Soon this madness would abate and in its place would be a comfortable bed, the dim red glow of the alarm clock and the warm curve of Gabrielle’s body by his side.

A breath became a moment, which in turn grew to encompass several minutes. The cacophony did not ebb. Jonathan’s reality did not alter. Another flutter of papers materialized and floated down into the crowd throughout the room, but he himself did not receive another.

“You’re starting to look much better son.” The old man’s voice was now completely normal, comforting almost. “Why don’t you go and have yourself a look-see? Before you got here I walked around a bit myself. And since you came I have been sittin’ here something like forever. What I’m sayin’ son is you got time. Just make sure you come back to the Baptist section before they get started, you hear?”

Jonathan hadn’t thought about exploring, but now that the man had suggested it, curiosity compelled him to stand up. Wavering for only a moment, he pushed himself upright to stand on his feet with unexpected youthful accuracy. Missing were the aches and pains that had pestered him for the last several decades. He clasped his hands and raised his arms in a long exquisite stretch.
“You know I think I will Mister,” Jonathan smiled down at the old man. “Thank you for the suggestion. It’s strange, but I have so much energy all of the sudden. You know, I haven’t felt this good since before the Cancer. Even the remissions. Wow…'.” The old man laughed in amusement.

Jonathan excused himself past the old woman who was now praying silently to herself, a young man with blue hair and a punk-rock sneer, two young blonde girls holding hands, three old men and a stern middle-aged woman in an elegant pinstriped business suit. At the edge of his row he stopped for a moment, looked both ways down the walkway and opted to go left toward a wall now visible in the distance versus right, which would lead him towards the center stage.

The endless rows of people blurred into his periphery as he walked forward toward the wall, which was segmented into large arched section. The sound of rock music, laughter and the loud hum of crowded conversation became audible as he walked onward toward the nearest archway. Two stoic men with long white hair in long white robes flanked the entrance, holding tall silver spears that glimmered from the light coming out of the room. Jonathan took a step forward to enter but the men lowered their weapons to bar his entry.

“You may not pass Mr. McBride,” one of the guards said. His tone was not stern, yet it held a powerful, unquestionable permanence. “This is a private party.”

“For who? How come I can’t go in?”

“These are the Agnostics. They do not participate in the lottery.”
“Agnostics? Aren’t those the ones who don’t believe in God?”
“They are his favorites, the realization of his true intention for humanity, the epitome of his design for man. With transcended use of their capacity for innovative thought they have questioned the mechanics of their world yet retained hope of his existence. They did not waste their lives, their precious gift, playing by rules set by other humans. They truly trusted him intuitively and as such enjoyed every moment of their experience in his garden.”
“But they are sinners!” Jonathan gasped incredulously. “This must be some sort of final send off before they are all carted off to hell, am I right? Where is the room for all the god-fearing Baptists?”

“The main hall is your room Mr. McBride. It is the gathering place for all worldly denominations. I have answered enough of your questions. Please move on as we have anther large group arriving shortly. Perhaps one of the other Custodians will answer more for you.”

Jonathan had a sense that it was in his best interest to obey and quickly moved away, continuing along the wall to the next archway that loomed in the distance, dark and ominous. He came upon an aged Catholic priest who was sobbing against the wall, halfheartedly beating his fist against the unyielding stone. The man collapsed to the ground and looked up imploringly at Jonathan, his small round eyes red and swollen from weeping. “Why?” he choked. Jonathan, at a loss for something to say to comfort the man, simply walked on.

Guarding the dark archway were two towering robed figures unlike to those he had met before. Their robes were a deep ebon black as was their long braided hair and long wicked spears. They turned to look down on Jonathan who sensed in their gaze a powerful sense of ferocity mingled with a deep despair and longing. From within this dim archway arose the sound of dire human anguish. Moans, sobbing an wretched screams were accompanied by frantic pleading and shouts for help.
Though frightened, he was terribly curious. So rather than follow his instincts to flee, Jonathan cautiously approached the nearest guard. “Who is that room for?”

The guard cocked his head and leaned down with supernatural grace, hunching over until he was nearly nose to nose with Jonathan. The dark spheres of his eyes hinted at limitless secrets and unmentionable truths. “This room is not for you.” The terribly non-human voice hissed with cold menace. “Go back to your seat and pay no mind to what happens here. This place is for the Atheists, souls headed for a much worse fate than your petty human tomes could ever dream of comprehending in words.” The guard inched in ever closer as he spoke, clawed fingers gripping his spear almost playfully. Jonathan backed away. “They are the those who lack hope and presume in their arrogance to know without doubt the ways of the universe. An unenviable mistake they will regret for a very, very long time. For them, peace will not come until…'”

The loud ring of a bell reverberated throughout the hall cut off the guard’s words. “Please return to your seats,” boomed an ominous female voice. The festivities will begin momentarily”.

"Run along McBride,” the guard hissed with a disturbingly knowing grin. “You Baptists haven’t won the lottery in years. It could be your lucky day.” He cackled and leaned back up to tower once more over the now frantic crowd. Jonathan rushed back to find his seat, but became disoriented by the sea of uniform orange chairs and the rows of unfamiliar faces. He searched around for an empty chair, but they all seemed to be filled. Just as his panic and frustration reached a critical frenzy, a woman wearing a dark burka placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and pointed to the tile floor. Inlaid with brilliant stone, a beautiful mosaic script read Muslim. His gaze roamed further down the aisle where he could see other such markers periodically worked into the tile. “Thank you so much,” he said to the woman as he sighed in relief. She nodded, her old wrinkled eyes hinting at the smile hidden by the dark fabric of her covering.

The bell sounded again. He sprinted down a large central aisle scanning the floor of each row he passed, Lutheranism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Scientology, Mormonism, Wiccan, Zorastrianism, until he finally found Baptist. Quickly he turned down the isle and searched for the familiar faces and nearly passed his own row before he saw the unmistakable blue hair of the punk rock kid.

“About time you made it back sonny, looks like they’re getting ready to start” the old black man said once Jonathan finally reached his seat and gestured to the center of the room. The stage was rising, presumably to enable an unobstructed view for everyone in the hall. “My name is Jacob by the way son,” the old man held out his hand. But as Jonathan moved to take it as the all light suddenly vanished. The crowd gasped and whispered in darkness.

Beautiful music arose from the darkness. It began as a single note, a stringed instrument of some sort, which was then joined by a single soprano voice. Slowly more sounds joined until the song reached an excruciatingly beautiful symphonic peak. It then broke jarringly into a modern electronic theme reminiscent of the old T.V. game shows. Dazzling colored lights bloomed on the stage and the crowd cheered in nervous exuberance.

A lone figure stepped onto the stage and bowed to the audience. She was a an agelessly beautiful woman in a brilliant blue sequined gown. With a magnanimous smile she waved at the audience, pivoting around with unhurried grace to acknowledge everyone. As Jonathan watched her, unexpected feelings of love, passion and respect for this woman rose within him. He desperately wanted her attention on him alone and strained forward to make himself more visible. She spoke. The magnificence of her voice compelled him to ease back into his seat.

“Welcome my dear ones. It is wonderful to be so close to you again. I trust you have all enjoyed my gift of life? I know you have many questions, but those will be answered after the choosing. And what is the choosing you ask? Why it is only the original game of chance! One lucky group will be allowed to join me in the eternal paradise of my home. The wondrous beauty that awaits the winners is far beyond the furthest realm of tangible delights your minds can imagine. Suffice it to say that tonight I will be awarding a most priceless treasure.” She walked around the stage as she spoke, speaking intimately into the ear of each person individually yet inexplicably addressing the audience as a whole at the same time. Jonathan nearly moaned in the euphoria he felt in her presence, his eyes fixed to hers, unblinking.

“Now what is in store for the ones who don’t win? That you shall see momentarily. So without further delay, let us begin Divine Chance!” She thrust her magnificent arm into the air and a swirl of papers materialized above her head and began zooming around like a chaotic school of fish. With a smile and a flourish she reached out and randomly plucked one of the papers. The audience gasped in unison.

“Well my darlings, it appears we have a winner. Tonight’s Chosen are…' the Hindus!” Far across the room a large group of people stood and cheered, hugging each other and cajoling with rapturous laughter.

Dread welled up in Jonathan and he turned to look at his neighbor Jacob who sat staring at the stage, face a pale mirror of his own horror. He turned as if to say something but the floor suddenly dropped out from beneath them. Jonathan McBride fell into endless darkness.