Heaven, Hell & Room Service

An Opening Thought...

What if Heaven and Hell are buildings? Office towers, or hotels maybe, on a completely unremarkable street in a completely unremarkable city. Let's say...Thorburg, Ontario, Canada. Does it exist? For the purposes of this story, yes. It is a modest city to the east of Toronto, home to a mixture of decently well-off urbanites and a good mix of rural imports. It is, in fact, an utterly forgettable place, apart from the fact that it is home to Heaven and Hell.

They are located at the intersection of Donald St. and Rose Ave. separated, fittingly enough, by Thorpe & Sons Funeral Home. As buildings go they are quite run of the mill appearance-wise, tall and rectangular with windows puncturing their surfaces at regular intervals. One is brown brick and one is red brick, but don't worry about which is which. One has a blue awning and one has a green awning, but again, it's not really important to distinguish at this stage. They both have a lobby, an elevator and dozens of guestrooms inside. All in all, they are standard. The only non-standard thing about them is that only dead people know that they are there.

You see, human beings are creatures of perception. The commonly used adage "You have to see it to believe it" unwittingly points out the fundamental flaw with the species. Allow me to explain. If a human being sees a horse in a field, it knows that a horse exists in that space and at that time because we have long accepted that horses are real. However, if a human being sees a unicorn (horse + horn) standing in that same field, it will refuse to acknowledge that a unicorn exists in the same space and time because unicorns are unreal. Therefore, we perceive that the unicorn is either a figment of our imagination, or the side effect of whatever drugs we happen to be on at the time.

Heaven and Hell pose the same challenge. To humanity they cannot be real, or at least, not real and in the shape of buildings. Most humans, in fact, falsely assume that Haven and Hell are somewhere beyond the sky and deep underground. Seeing as these assumptions are largely based on really old writing in really old books written by really uneducated people, it's no surprise that they were wrong. Anyway, I digress. The fact of the matter is that humans perceive Heaven and Hell to be invisible, and therefore they are

That is until you die, at which point you wake up to the utter ridiculousness of Heaven and Hell being invisible. Indulge me, as we follow the path of a deceased person from death to residency in either Heaven or Hell. We'll create a random man, make him thirty-nine years old and slightly overweight, and name him Herman. Herman has died, for the sake of this demonstration, after being brutally hacked to pieces by an axe, which was wielded by a very angry man named George. I always think the bloodiest deaths are the coolest. Anyway, Herman dies despite a heroic effort by his local trauma surgeon, and then wakes up. But when he wakes up, the trauma surgeon, nurses, passing janitor, crazy old coot in the next bed, and everyone else in the general vicinity, have disappeared.

The only person who the now fully awake Herman can see is a stout fellow dressed in a chauffeur's outfit, whose nametag identifies him as Maynard. The little man tips his hat respectfully, and informs Herman that he has, in fact, been dead for approximately four minutes. It's a difficult thing for most people to hear, but Herman takes it surprisingly well. This is probably because I created him, and I want him to take it well in order to cut down on your confusion. Skipping ahead slightly for the sake of expediency, Herman is whisked away by Maynard in a London-style black taxi. He does not talk or ask questions, choosing to obey the red and yellow sign on the back of Maynard's seat, which states the following:

OCCUPANTS MUST NOT TALK OR ASK QUESTIONS.

KINDEST REGARDS,

AFTERLIFE SERVICES STAFF

The ride is uneventful and completely ordinary, apart from the fact that everything outside the vehicle appears to be blanketed by a shimmering haze. It makes it all look very strange and somewhat unsettling. Eventually, the car stops outside the only three buildings that are devoid of haziness. They are two hotels, with a quaint looking funeral parlour in-between. Maynard gets out, waddles around to open Herman's door, and does so. He then escorts Herman into the funeral parlour, tips his hat with respect one last time, and leaves.

I am now going to introduce the most pivotal character of this entire book. Not the main character, mind you, but certainly one of the most critical. His name is Charles Haigh Thorpe III, and he is pivotal because he is one of only three living men who are aware that Heaven and Hell are hotels. He is also one of the few characters in this story for whom I will provide a detailed physical description. He is portly and very old, although no one actually knows the exact number of years that he has been alive. He has a round face, flanked by a pair of very impressive muttonchops, and a receding hairline that is fighting a losing battle with baldness. He always makes a point of dressing very well – having a tailcoat for every occasion – and frequently completes the ensemble with a matching top hat and cane.

The other two men who are aware of the whole situation are his sons, Charles IV (more commonly referred to as Chuck) and Bill. They have a mother, but she will never be mentioned from now on. The three men run a perfectly normal and homely family business, which happens to include among its daily operations the management of the Afterlife. They are, not to make it sound too biblical or anything, the gatekeepers.

Anyway, back to Herman. He approaches the counter, where Bill is most pleased to serve him. He gets Herman to fill out a form, offering a fine fountain pen with which to do so. The questions are simple enough; name, date of birth, method of death, etc. Bill then takes the completed form and checks it against the D.D. (Directory of the Deceased) for March 10th, 2011 the date that I have chosen for this demonstration to be taking place. These directories are kept in fat, multi-coloured binders behind the front counter, and are, in practical terms at least, a catalogue of all upcoming deaths. Bill runs his finger studiously down the column of names until he finds the desired one, and ticks it off. He then tells Herman to wait for a moment, and disappears into the back room.

Herman only has to wait a minute or so before Charles Sr. emerges from the back room. He hands Herman a small rolling suitcase, in which he says are neatly packed all of the essentials for a stay in the Afterlife. He then wishes Herman well, and rings an old-fashioned table bell. There are two such bells on the counter, one gleaming white and the other shiny black. Mr. Thorpe had rung the black one for Herman, and I'm sure that you can deduce from that information which hotel he is destined for. He is then politely told to wait outside, and quietly does as he has been told.

He is barely outside for ten seconds when a bellhop in a sharp scarlet and black uniform greets him. The bellhop politely takes Herman's case and leads him to the building with the blue awning. There are four peeling golden letters stamped above the door, and while you don't need to be a genius to figure them out, here they are spelled out anyway:

HELL

The bellhop walks Herman through the shabby lobby to an open receptionist, who carries a vague resemblance to 80s TV personality Mr. Rogers. The man handles Herman's check-in procedure with an almost frightening efficiency. It takes seven minutes and forty-nine seconds until Herman is handed a small key – yes, these hotels still use actual keys – and told that he would be in Room # 1654. He is directed to the elevator, wished a pleasant day, and reminded that activity days happen on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

This is where we leave Herman. We will never meet him again, because he is just a demonstration case. The actual occupant of Hell Room # 1654 is Louise Langdon, a high society woman from New Orleans who is just a plain old bitch, but. she is not a character worth noting for the remainder of this book. This story is about three friends who truly find their way in the Afterlife, and the series of events that befall them when they dare ask humanity's most universal question...

"What the hell?"