A VERY BIG ANSWER

Two old men discuss life and death andHeaven and Hell, and then a storm comes by...

The sun was shining hotly down on the two elderly gentlemen as they sat by the banks of the River Maun and chatted idly to each other. It was their favourite haunt, peaceful, away from the estate where they lived and the squawking of angry mothers and naughty children, and they'd come here for years. A secret place it was, like Heaven.

Behind them, in the distance, loomed a big black cloud " but they hadn't noticed it.

William nodded at Benedict and grinned. “Thing is,” he opined, “old Larry reckons he'll wait for us when he reaches the other side, and we both know he's not so long for this world. He reckons as he'd bound for Heaven on account that he's a believer in his good Lord. Reckons as he'll save us a seat right at the feet of his bit of a god and even tune our harps for us!”

Benedict laughed, a short breathy laugh, the sort made by a man of certain years but uncertain lungs.

“I'll not have any of that nonsense!” he snorted, and coughed. “I was brainwashed as a kid, but I've not given heed to a word of the rubbish since then! It'll be the box for me, a nice cosy wooden box, six feet of soil and a family of worms...”

“Same for me, but I might spend a few minutes at the municipal furnace! No nice seating there, no comradeship of worms, though, just a puff of smoke and adieu my friends!”

William grinned at him. “It's not that I'm all that keen on going,” he said, “just that Larry's got it nice and easy, on his way out what with his health the way it is. But we're not much better off, the two of us. too stricken by years to have many left in front of any of us, but dear old Larry can smirk 'cause of his comforting belief that there's something else ahead of him, some other place, some Heaven, and to make life even more cosy for him, all the bad 'uns'll be elsewhere, being tortured forever or whatever it is goes on down there!”

“Fire and brimstone and eternal sulphurous flames,” said Benedict. “Not such a nice thought.”

“I cast the notion off years ago, thank goodness,” muttered William

“It's all stuff and nonsense!” snorted Benedict. “Look Ben, I've spent all my adult years being a realist and I'm not changing now because it's more comfortable to face a certain end by believing in an uncertain after-life!”

“Atheist, Bill, that's what you are, like me,” nodded Benedict.

A raindrop, big, it seemed, as a saucer, splashed down, and the sun popped behind the big black cloud that had crept up on them unseen. The world turned suddenly dark.

“Sodding rain,” groaned Benedict, “who'd have thought it was going to rain on a fine day like this?”

“Forecast never said,” grunted William. “Sod it, we're going to get wet!”

“And my chest ain't what it was,” almost swore Benedict. “Come on, it ain't far to my place even without running, we'll make it in five minutes!”

The big black cloud illuminated the world with a flash of staggering brilliance, and on its heels the clap of thunder rattled the cells inside William's head. Benedict groaned. “Come on!” he rasped.

“It's sodding right overhead!” William shouted. He had to shout because suddenly nature had decided to compete in the argument of decibels. Benedict didn't try to reply, though he did nod.

And that nod was the very last thing that he did on this glorious planet because the next jagged finger of lightning found him as if guided by a mighty intelligence and struck him stone dead with enough electricity to power a town for a month.

“Benedict!” shouted William when he saw his friend stumble and fall like a sack of potatoes on to the wet ground. “Get up, you silly sod, we're nearly there!”

But that finger of lightning had a friend, and that friend found William, seared through to his heart and stilled it, and he slumped next to Benedict and lay as motionless and as dead.

“Fancy seeing you here!” exclaimed Larry. “With all your smart answers and disbelief... and here you are in the same place as me! I kept my promise... I've kept a couple of seats for you, my friends, and you can spend eternity stroking our Master's precious feet...”

Benedict tried to open his eyes but he could see without them so it didn't matter. William tried snorting, but he didn't have a nose " or a face, either. But he was aware " both of them were aware " of the heat all around them, the acrid stench of burning like flesh being seared on a gigantic barbecue, and an almost tangible malevolence.

“Where are we …?” he asked.

“Is this Heaven?” asked Benedict.

“I should coco!” crowed Satan, “now, the three of you, get polishing my feet! I find the whole sensation strangely erotic! Really turns me on, it does! And when you've finished my feet I wouldn't mind a massage of my cranial horn. That's a nice way to spend eternity, much better than what you had planned, don't you think?”

“But … what … how … what did I do wrong?” stammered Larry. “I always believed, I prayed every day, I said grace before every meal … what did I do wrong?”

“Oh it wasn't you,” grinned Satan, “but your fathers! Don't ever forget the good book and what it promises! Our sons are punished for our wrongdoing even to the third and fourth generation, so you're done for all right, all of you! And weren't your fathers in Bomber Squadron during the war, and didn't they kill the innocent, loads of them? Of course they were and of course they did! So you're here, all of you, for gorgeous Eternity!

“Ain't that sweet!”

Author's Note

Set on the banks of the River Maun, a small river after which Mansfield was allegedly named and which runs a hundred yards or so from where I live.