Flat on his back in the hospital bed, a single tear rolled down his temple into the starched, white pillow. Most of his family were in the room, teary eyed and somber. The minister from his church stood near the door. He had put up one hell of a fight but the cancer had won. His doctor had said it was only a matter of hours now. His kidneys had shut down. His liver.

Too weak to even lift a hand to wave goodbye, Sam slipped away and was gone.

Those gathered in the room stopped looking at him. They were all looking at something on the floor. All Sam could see was the top of their heads. What? With amazement, Sam realized what was happening. He had floated out of his body and was now hovering near the ceiling. His family was not looking at something on the floor, they were gazing at his now lifeless corpse. His minister silently mouthed a prayer.

“Well, here I go,” thought Sam. “Come get me Jesus! I’m ready!”

He looked around. The hospital scene was fading away. He was floating in a dimly-lit, gray void. Wasn’t there supposed to be a tunnel or something? A light he had to follow?

“Samuel  Jefferson Greene, Baptist. Is that correct?” asked a somewhat bored-sounding male voice in his left ear.

Sam was startled. He looked around. There was an odd sensation that resembled waking up from a dream and he found himself standing in a tiny metal room. Smooth walls. Bright illumination streaming down from fluorescent light fixtures set into the low ceiling. There was a sliding door, also made from smooth metal with a brushed finish. Buttons. There was a low humming sound.

“An elevator?,” he blurted.

“Is that what you see?” asked the voice, somewhat distractedly.

Sam turned to his left. A man of medium height stood next to him. They were both facing the door. The man was wearing a short, white robe. No. That wasn’t right. Sam frowned. It was a lab coat. Mild blue eyes gazed at him expectantly through brown horn-rim glasses. The man held a clipboard.

“Wha…,” Sam began.

“Are you Samuel Jefferson Greene? Arriving from Slater Memorial Hospital, Pickettestown, Oklahoma, U.S.A.?”

“Y-e-s,” Sam answered slowly, puzzled.

“It’s symbolic. People see different things depending on their life-experience and what they expect.”

“What?”

“The elevator. Some people think they are on a bridge, or in a tunnel, or opening a door…”

“So we’re in this elevator because to me, it symbolizes my travelling up from the Earth and into Heaven?”

“Something like that. My name is Pete, by the way. I am the gatekeeper. Give me just a minute to close out your paperwork and you can be on your way.”

Pete scribbled a line on his clipboard and checked a few boxes.

“Pete… You mean Peter?” asked Sam, astonishment dawning. “You’re Saint Peter? This isn’t quite what I was expecting.”

“It never is.”

“I mean, you’re just a regular-looked guy. With glasses?”

“Is that what you see?” Pete smiled blandly. “We’re almost done here. I just need to confirm a few details for the record. He lifted the clipboard and flipped through a couple of pages. “It says here that you were raised Methodist but halfway through college, you started going to a Baptist church, is that correct?”

“Well yes, but…”

“Then at age 34, following the death of you mother, you started spending a lot of time reading the Bible. You became a youth minister the following year and then actually went on a missionary trip to…where was it…? Caballococha?”

“Yes,” Sam nodded. “It’s way up on the Amazon. In Peru.”

“It says here that you had a crisis of faith during that period?”

“Yes, I did. There was this crazy witch-doctor-shaman guy there. Silvio. He said that since I was trying to win his people to my God, he would have to try to win me over to his gods. He wouldn’t leave me alone. Constantly talking about spirits in the jungle. Spirits in the river. Spirits everywhere. I tried to be polite. I listened. I showed him in the Bible that people were born guilty of sin and needed salvation through the blood of Jesus. We had some long conversations and some of what he believed started to make sense to me. I admit it. Satan got a hold on me there. I started to question stuff. Stuff like what if the Bible wasn’t the only word of God. That maybe God spoke in other ways too. That maybe my religion wasn’t the only right one. I’m ashamed to say it, but Silvio ended up being my friend. The devil used him to get to me. I talked about this to my minister at the time, Brad. He helped me see what was happening. You should’ve seen Silvio’s face when I told him I knew what he was up to and rebuked him in the name of Jesus. He even cried to try to confuse me. Brad ended up recalling me and I had to go back to the States. Once I was home though, I got my head back together real quick. God saved me. Again.” Sam smiled ruefully.

“Did you know that Silvio became bitter toward Christians and white people in general after that? Eight years later, he murdered two Mormon missionaries and threw their bodies in the river. Their families never found out what happened to them.”

“That bastard,” Sam nodded grimly. “I stumbled there but I eventually got back on the road to Glory. It wasn’t my best moment.”

“No. No it was not.” Pete scribbled something and looked up.

“Now, what about that girlfriend? Let’s see… Abigail, was it?”

“Abby. Yeah. I really loved her.”

“But you broke it off, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Because she was Jewish?”

“We wanted to get married but she didn’t want to turn Christian and there was no way I was going to turn Jew. It would break my heart if she became my wife and then didn’t go to heaven with me when I died. And what if we had kids? What would happen to them? I had no choice. I had to cut her loose.”

“And you are aware of what became of her?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“She killed herself. You broke her heart. She became depressed and she killed herself.” Faint lines of disapproval flickered at the edges of Pete’s mouth.

“It was an accidental overdose,” said Sam quietly.

“No,” said Pete. “No accident.”

“That’s on her,” said Sam more forcefully with just a trace of anger. “There was nothing I could do. I wasn’t going to lose my salvation over her. Change my faith and lose my soul? That was not an option!”

“Sure it was.”

“Yeah, but I made the right choice. I stuck with Jesus. I stayed the course. I passed the test. That’s the whole point of life isn’t it? God testing us?”

“You’re absolutely right,” said Pete. “Souls are tested rigorously on Earth. God cannot have citizens of Heaven who are not adaptable. Who cannot think for themselves. If the Lord wanted humans to be robots who slavishly stick to one program, he would just make them that way.”

“Wait a minute. What are you saying? I did everything right. I kept the faith. I did exactly what I was supposed to do. My reward is in heaven, right?”

“I’m sure you are aware that God has a habit of making things appear one way when in fact, the opposite is true? Money rots the soul, healthy food tastes terrible, the meek inherit the earth. Like that?”

“Sure, but…”

DING! There was a jolt and a light flashed above the metal door as it began to slide open.

“Oh boy,” exclaimed Sam with a big smile, rubbing his hands together. “We’re here. This is it! Heaven at last!”

Sam stepped through the door and the waking-up sensation rippled through him again. He felt a blast of hot air across his face. Before him sprawled an enormous vista of flaming horrors. Terrifying demonic monsters were everywhere, torturing wailing human forms in a thousand unspeakable ways. A particularly hideous creature, black and vicious was staring directly at him. It started toward him, drooling.

Sam spun around to face the gatekeeper, indescribable fear clamping his heart. “Hell!” he screamed in fury and despair. “I’m in Hell?”

The elevator and it’s occupant had faded away. Pete’s response was attenuated but still audible.

“Is that what you see?”