The Celestial Gate

by Avital Dicker

  But as usual, at the following meeting, in addition to the frequent lunch breaks and power naps, there were more pressing matters to address. No one wanted to take responsibility for a drastic change in the system. It would entail hard work and many more decisions – things that angels, just like humans, try their best to avoid, especially in a committee forum. And so it came about that The Draw remained in place right up until the present day.

  Anise pondered the concept of The Draw. It was similar to a children’s game on Earth called “musical chairs.” While Earth turns on its axis in an ever-rotating orbit, all souls run as fast as possible around the globe each trying their hardest to keep up with the country of their choice. Every few minutes, a trumpet sounds and a blue light illuminates one country on the globe. The souls who are closest to that country at that exact moment are sent there.

  But it doesn’t really work, Anise thought. Earth spins much faster than anyone can run, which means that only a handful of souls ever reach the country of their choice. As far as Anise was concerned, the system was stupid and unfair. This was not a party game; it was the way a whole lifetime on Earth was determined. Everyone knew how hard life could be down there and heaven of all places should be the first to come up with a more even-handed system.

  Funny, thought Anise bitterly, people say that there’s justice in heaven. But, just like anywhere else, the only sure thing in heaven is the bureaucracy.

  Anise had tried numerous times to speak to the angel in charge of The Draw. He had told her to write a proper letter and send it to the department that handled such matters. She composed a few letters, each of which was acknowledged with a promise by some exhausted, overworked angel that they would establish another committee to reconsider her request for a reform in the system. But as usual, just like committees on Earth, a host of angels spent hours deliberating around a long conference table only to conclude with no conclusion whatsoever.

  “Anise!” Yam, whom she’d lost in the crowd, interrupted her thoughts, calling her name from somewhere in the distance. Against her better judgment, she forced herself to ignore him; he would just try to stop her. It was now or never. She had to make her move now if she wanted to do something about The Draw. She was doing it for him and all the others, and she looked back anxiously hoping Yam would understand.

  In all the mayhem, no one noticed that Anise had strayed from the line. She’d never left the line before. Heaven was immense, she didn’t know her way around, but she’d work it out somehow, she thought. She’d find Him. It’s about time the system changed. It isn’t working, and mainly, it’s unjust, even cruel. No matter how busy He was with other matters, she’d find a way to persuade God to listen to her.

  First, Anise checked the railway platform, where the trolleys were docked. There must be a way out somewhere there. On the right, not far from her, she noticed an angel in blue garb walking straight toward her, towing a holographic board behind him.

  Anise quickly ducked down, hoping he hadn’t seen her. She snatched a passing cloud and wrapped it around her shoulders. The cloud was rather uncooperative and protested by showering her with cold drops of water, but eventually gave up and surrendered. Anise ignored the wetness seeping deeper into her soaked robe and held her breath. Right then, the angel passed close by and Anise had a clear view of the board where the numbers were piled up in a heap in what looked like a scuffle. She could just make out the word at the top of the board. It said: “Births.”

  Suddenly, it all came together. Her eyes darted to the frenzy of numbers on the board. They weren’t squabbling at all but were frantically trying to keep count of the souls who were feverishly making their way Earthwards. She remembered that Yam and Mor were still back in the hall. She had to hurry back before they were sent without her. A whole lifetime on Earth without them was an unbearable thought.

  Anxiously, she watched the angel suddenly stop just a short distance away. But he was too busy to notice her as he used his free hand to grab the few numbers trying to jump ship, and then continued wearily on his way, nudging the board forward toward the center of the hall. Anise, who was completely soaked by now, let out a sigh of relief and released her grip on the cloud, which promptly floated upwards and angrily pelted her with hail. Shaking the jagged bits of ice from her wet robe, she quickly set off. She was a few steps away from the docking platform when a trolley came screeching to a halt, forcing her to roll swiftly out of the way to avoid the fierce wind that was blowing the commuters out of the trolley.

  She took advantage of the commotion around her, she slipped quietly away, and circled the dock, sweeping her gaze furtively from side to side. The attendants were fully absorbed in their jobs, and it looked like she’d managed to avoid detection. Slightly further ahead was the wreckage of an old trolley, its sides twisted by what had probably been a particularly strong gust of wind. Anise crept into the trolley and peeked out cautiously, surveying the platform.

  Not far from her, she saw a line of odd-looking creatures – she’d never seen anything like them before. They marched in single file, each on three squat legs, carrying large packages wrapped in brown paper on the flat surface of their backs. Anise thought they slightly resembled camels, though much smaller. The caravan proceeded in flawless form to the other end of the platform, and she watched as the creatures disappeared into the heavy mist enveloping the dock perimeter. There must be an exit there, she thought. Anise wrapped her robe tightly around her, and then, covering her face, ducked down and quickly joined the long line progressing at a painfully sluggish pace. Some of the creatures sized her up suspiciously. Anise ignored their stares and stepped through the mist, groping blindly in the dark for some solid ground on which to stand. Instead, she met nothing but thin air. She lost her footing and began hurtling through the darkness at breakneck speed.

  Someone grabbed her in midair. She came to a sudden stop, then felt herself being lifted into the air once again. When she opened her eyes she found herself looking directly at a very large angel who was towering over her, his face crimson with rage. She deduced from the rank on his uniform that he was most likely the angel in charge.

  “Always the same story,” he spewed angry words that flickered in the air in front of her. “Always trying to outsmart us. Always leaving the line and asking unnecessary questions.” He waved a long, white-gloved finger threateningly in front of her face.

  White smoke rose from his thin wings. He deftly navigated his way between the stars above the dock and soon began his descent back to the hall to the spot from where she had fled. Anise looked despairingly at the earth rotating in the center and the mass of robes flapping around it in an effort to catch up. “Please sir, I need to speak to God,” she implored.

  “Save it for next time,” he sneered in contempt. “You almost missed The Draw because of your little adventure. Next time, try to remember that it never works. I’ve had enough of pulling you out of the darkness every single reincarnation. Now run along with all the others.” Still hovering in the air, he loosened his hold and dropped Anise, who landed with a light bump on the soft floor. She watched Niagara Falls cascade as they passed her by. Canada’s not a bad option, she tried to console herself, frustrated at her failed attempt.

  Yam

  Yam was the only one who had noticed Anise slipping away and sprinting off into the distance. He was furious with her but couldn’t help admiring her courage. It’s true that she often acts foolishly, like she just did. But when all was said and done, he had to admit that her passion was one of the things he loved most about her. He fought the urge to run after her and pull her back into the race, knowing it would be pointless. Anise always did exactly what she wanted.

  For as long as he could remember, Anise had the infuriating ability to make him smile, but it also took very little effort on her part to drive him out of his mind, just as she was doing now. He bit his lower lip in frustration. Why does she always think
she has to save the world?

  In general, Yam wasn’t a big talker. He mostly kept to himself and found it hard to express his feelings. But with Anise there was no need for words. She could read him like an open book.

  “Ouch,” he let out a yell when a particularly pudgy boy stepped on his foot as he ran past. He wanted to kill Anise. She knew they had to stick together if they wanted to be sent to the same country; it was their only chance of finding each other on Earth. And now, of all times, she disappears. He heard the trumpet, followed by the sound of the gong echoing across the hall. The racket stopped at once and was replaced by a nervous hush. Yam scanned the crowd for Mor. They had to find Anise before it was too late. He watched as a group of children started to rise up in the air above China, the country highlighted in blue, and felt relief wash over him when it was clear that Mor wasn’t among them.

  Mor

  Mor stopped. The boy ahead of him stumbled, entangled in a robe that was several sizes too big. “Don’t move,” chuckled Mor, unraveling the oversized cloth that had wrapped itself around the boy’s legs. “It’s about time they replaced these old robes. They’ve lost their elasticity and there’s always been a problem with the sizes,” he smiled and gave the boy an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

  “Anise!” he suddenly heard Yam’s voice calling to her in the distance. Mor spun around in the direction of his voice. What had she done this time, he wondered, smiling to himself? Yam must be furious.

  “Thank you,” said the boy, as he straightened his robe and gave his limbs a good stretch. Mor didn’t hear the rest, he was already making his way to Yam. In almost every incarnation, the body he got was slightly shorter than the one Yam was assigned, and sometimes it bothered him. But Mor felt a deep love for his friend, despite the fact that Yam took life so annoyingly seriously and was taller than him in most lives. In contrast to Yam’s serious nature, Mor was always up for a good laugh or a bit of mischief, and perhaps these differences were precisely what made their close friendship possible, he thought.

  Out of breath, Mor stopped next to Yam just as Anise landed nearby with a gentle thump. White sparks flew in every direction.

  “You went on your wild God goose-chase again, didn’t you?” laughed Mor, ignoring the murderous look Anise sent him in reply. The two boys helped her up.

  “If you say ‘I told you so,’ you’re a dead man,” Anise warned Mor, who, exercising every ounce of self-restraint, managed to stifle his laughter.

  “We have to get moving,” said Yam, trying to keep his anger at bay. The risk Anise had taken had almost cost them a lifetime apart. She had no right to do that. But Yam knew that now wasn’t the time for an argument. First, they had to make sure they found a good country. He took a deep breath, and the three of them joined the race.

  Anise

  Anise ran quickly alongside Canada, panting with the effort as she tried not to lag behind Yam and Mor. She hoped she wouldn’t lose them in the throng of flapping robes, but a sharp pain in her hip forced her to slow down and she watched with despair as Canada spun further and further away.

  Not India. Anywhere but India, she pleaded. She recalled the last time she was born there: her family lived in a tin hut with no bathroom and not even a morsel of bread. Her stomach still rumbled every time she remembered that reincarnation.

  She glanced at Yam who was running beside her, wheezing with effort. She could see the memory reflected in his eyes. At this moment, he too had clarity and was one with the infinite wisdom of the universe, and Anise saw his eyes glaze over with a familiar angry shadow, his pupils turning black as coal.

  “I’ll find you, I promise,” he whispered to her without speaking.

  “I’m counting on you,” she answered wordlessly, since heaven is a place where words are unnecessary.

  Anise thought that, at this exact moment, there might be an astronomer on Earth peering excitedly through a telescope at the runners circling the Earth. But to him it would be reflected as a halo of light, and he would probably try to analyze it, breaking it down into a lengthy series of numbers and symbols that humans call science. Yes, well. We’ve already established that humanity still has a long way to go and much to learn, she thought.

  Anise was breathing heavily. The muscles in her legs burned from the effort. It was already her fourth lap around Earth and she found herself right next to Pakistan. That would not be good, she thought, and despite her exhaustion, she forced herself to pick up the pace. Pakistan is definitely not the place for a woman, she thought.

  A forceful push from behind made her lose her balance. She stumbled over the hem of her long robe and lost grip of Yam’s hand.

  The boy who’d knocked her down kept on going at full speed without stopping. She heard Yam’s distant voice calling her name, but it was drowned out in the tumult as he vanished in the crowd that pushed him further and further ahead.

  Her right leg ached and her lungs were on fire, but she forced herself to get up, and a cry escaped her lips as she put weight on her injured leg.

  North America was rushing right past her.

  I’m not giving up now; I will not lose hope, she thought. There were still a few other good options, and she still had a chance to reach them. Anise clutched the hem of the robe and joined the race once again, ignoring the sharp pain in her leg.

  Not too far ahead, she could see the curly locks of Yam’s hair and, a few steps behind him, the stocky figure that was Mor. Anise ran faster in an attempt to reach them. Her leg was smarting, but the thought of losing them and going through a whole lifetime without them was unbearable.

  She heard the trumpet and all activity ceased. Everyone stood still and a tense silence hung in the air.

  As Anise watched the blue light quickly spread across the globe, she felt her feet lift off the ground.

  It’s me, she realized.

  Her body was paralyzed. She sought desperately to find Yam and Mor amid the mass of heads on the ground below. The last thought that went through her mind was that she hadn’t managed to reach them in time. The hall receded in a blur as Anise rose higher and higher. She didn’t even have time to see where she was being sent.

  Meanwhile, the commotion below resumed, and the robes began flapping once more. “Anise,” cried Mor, but she was already too far and couldn’t hear him. Mor watched with despair as she was lifted higher and further away from him and out of earshot.

  Yam

  Yam scolded himself for not holding her hand tightly enough. “I’ll find you,” he bellowed at her retreating figure, frantically waving his arms even though he knew she couldn’t see him. Again the trumpet sounded, and Yam was furious when he saw Mor floating up and disappearing out of sight. Yam looked at the blue light that had just appeared on the rotating planet, outlining a tall boot. Italy. Mor is in Italy. Yam couldn’t help smiling at the thought that Italy was the perfect country for Mor, who loved food and, in almost every incarnation, fought to lose a few extra pounds. Mor’s eternal fantasy of a toned, muscular body might prove quite a challenge in the land of pizza and ice cream. “Italy,” Yam rehearsed over and over in his head so that he wouldn’t forget. As he felt his legs lift off the ground, a warm breeze cradled his body, and the last thought that went through his mind was that he felt quite comfortable.

  Chapter 2

  Yam slowly opened his eyes. His room receded seamlessly into the soft wall, while a small star floated in the air, radiating bright, warm tones of light. The armchair he found himself in was extremely comfortable, adjusting itself to the contours of his body. Yam changed position, whereupon the chair rearranged itself perfectly around him.

  Yam turned the knob on his right to slightly dim the starlight. He scanned the small room, which – other than the armchair and the colorful control panel suspended in the air next to him – was empty. The temperature in the room was perfect. Yam allowed himself to stretch ou
t and relax in the chair. At this very moment, Anise and Mor must be sitting in rooms identical to this one along one of the long door-lined corridors in this endless maze, he thought.

  Outside his room, an infinite number of stars were leaping around cheerfully. The dark blue of the sky made room for a playful rainbow, unfurling in shades of colors that humans don’t even have names for.

  Yam, who was so absorbed in the magnificent view, didn’t notice the gray cloud that had floated across the room and stopped right before him.

  “Hello,” said a deep voice, coming from an imposingly large Indian man dusting bits of cloud off himself. A small tuft of gray cloud remained stuck on his white turban and continued to drip plump drops of water onto the fellow’s forehead. Annoyed, he shook his head, stretched out a thick arm, and vigorously shook a long finger at Yam. “Young man, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got to get through another nine hundred and eighty-six of you.”

  Raindrops continued to fall steadily from the turban, even as the Indian seated himself in the air and, with surprising ease, folded his legs into the traditional full lotus position.

  “As I’ve explained to those who’ve come before you, which means I’ve had to repeat myself a million times, I have no patience for unnecessary delays.” He scratched his head, blowing a pink cloud of smoke from a long pipe. “I’m completely wiped out. These shifts are too long. But as usual, no one’s interested in listening. I’ve said it a thousand times already: we need more staff up here.”

  Yam laughed, and the Indian man turned red with rage, rising higher into the air.

  “It’s not funny,” he scolded Yam, blowing a forceful stream of air out of his mouth, causing the star in the room to spin in circles. The star hit the wall, flickered, and then went out, offended.