Hereafter

Hereafter: Part I Crossing Over, Chapter 13

13

HOLDEN WAS BEING HELD in what for heaven was a maximum security detention facility. Hardly a prison or even a jail, the inmates were simply told when they arrived not to leave unless they were escorted by a security angel. These were the worst of the worst from Earth, guilty of all manner of heinous crimes against humanity—more than deserving of the ultimate punishment, being banished to hell. Why were they here?

When their bodies died, their spirit and consciousness lived on—a shock to most of them. The ones who were let into heaven realized how wrong they were about so many things concerning God and the hereafter. The result—a genuine contrition.

That’s all it took, a heartfelt I’m sorry and Holden was allowed to enter heaven on the condition that he abide by the ruling of his grand jury panel. Holden knew he had a lot of spiritual work to do and was motivated and determined to somehow make up for the mayhem and carnage that raked the inhabitants of Earth during the infamous reign of the Guardian.

This detention facility looked more like the Great Wall Sheraton in early 21st Century Earth Beijing than a prison, but here in heaven these people weren’t really dangerous. It wasn’t like they could pretend to want to turn their lives around. Lie detectors aren’t needed here. Speak an untruth and your halo starts pulsing in different weird colors in response to the chakra shock waves it generates. Besides, most people like them choose not to be here. Adolph Hitler isn’t here. And who would follow them even if someone like Holden or Hitler decided to try to orchestrate a rebellion?

Since all the buildings in heaven had some obvious visual structural suggestion as to what their name and function might be, a 50-story scales-of-justice sculpture was a massive six-foot-deep relief on the front exterior. It was part detention facility, more a residence hall with all the amenities of a hotel, along with courtrooms. As you can imagine, there isn’t much call for a criminal justice system here. This was it, dealing with the rogues from Earth who wanted to come clean. All the other hardcore spiritual loosers were far far away.

Walking into the lobby, we headed for the front desk and found sign-up sheets for the grand jury panels being setup for the various inmates. Lydia and I signed up for Holden’s. By filling the last two slots, a call went out to all the members so that the hearing could begin as soon as everyone arrived.

Holden was finishing up one of a long list of spiritual rehabilitation activities that had been planned for him. It was much like what went on at the famed Betty Ford Clinic or Hazelden Treatment Center, where celebrities with addiction problems were guided through a series of exercises to put them back on the path to health and well-being. It was the same here at the Scales of Justice Center, only the focus was on curing the addiction to evil in their souls. It couldn’t be surgically removed—that kind of metaphysical cancer had to be replaced with healthy spiritual tissue grown in the garden of experience by repeatedly choosing good over evil. We had an hour before the hearing was scheduled to begin. I had the girl at the front desk call Holden to see if he would agree to meet with me.

“I just got off the phone with Holden and he’s comfortable seeing you. Just go up to the 224th floor and you’ll be directed to a lounge near the grand jury chambers. He’ll be there waiting for you.”

I wasn’t sure if Lydia would want to be there with me, or for me, or if she had the same issues I did with Holden, but this was something I knew I needed to do by myself.

“Hey, would you mind waiting in the lobby here. I really need to see Holden alone. I’m not sure how I’m going to react. I want to be completely honest with him and not hold back on anything I might want to say, do, or feel. Does that make sense?”