"I don't want to mislead you into believing that complicated is inherently good," he continued.
And this, just when I started to think I was getting somewhere.
"Mistrust builds walls and takes an aggressive posture as a reflex. Threats appear where they really aren't, and since the best defense is a robust offense, some people," he looked at me pointedly, "get fierce."
"Fierce sounds better than fearful," I said.
"Neither one is very useful, frankly" he said. "Both evidence lack of faith. Truly brave and heroic people do what they do because they believe what they say they believe about God and His Son. Truly calm people are like that, too."
"You're bringing me down," I whined. "Is all this why I'm only allowed to be visited by my deceased dogs here, and no actual people? Well, besides you, er, me."
"Has anyone ever told you that…"
"Don't finish that, please," I interrupted quickly. "And yes, whatever it is, I'm sure they have."
"…you are precious," he finished anyway.
I didn't see that coming. First fearful, now precious. It was ridiculous. Here I was telling me deep, absurd things about me. Time travel - you just can't keep it straight.
"Who would you like most to see?" he asked then.
"Is this a trick question, or a test?"
He shook his head from side to side.
"I'm assuming that means no, even here. Yes?"
He punched me in the shoulder. Were you allowed to do that in Heaven?"
"Do they have to be dead like me?" I asked. "You know, like a departed relative, or somebody famous from the past?"
"You can ask to see whomever you'd like, as long as they're here."
That brought me up short, for sure. Anybody? I got the sense this was probably a one-time grant - a Balcony Bonus, so to speak. I anticipated a flood of names and faces streaming through my consciousness as my highly developed intellect and perceptive abilities kicked into gear.
Crickets.
Maybe I should approach it from a different angle? Who, out of all the people in my life, did I miss most?
Sadly, nobody came to mind. (Was that true?) Everyone, and I mean everyone, that was most important to me was still alive down below. The truth was, I missed my wife and daughters most. And I was very sure they missed me, as well. But since I was guaranteed a return trip, there was no immediate urgency to see them. Had one of them died before me, that would have been my first choice. Other than that, no one really came to mind. Was I really that pathetic?
He smiled.
"Take your time," he said.
Parents? What if they weren't here? Other relatives? Long lost friends? OK, there was a vague interest in one or two names from the past, but none evoked any intensity. I truly was pathetic.
Underneath all this, was an idea that had instantly popped into my head at the moment I first heard his question, but was just as quickly dismissed before I even acknowledged it. It bubbled up again. I tried to suppress it, exactly like an impossible longing you know is there but can't bear to look at.
His smile widened. I knew he was mind-dropping again.
The thought became increasingly irrepressible, demanding that I face it fair and square, like a deep wound, or an ancient wish that could not possibly be fulfilled, and was all the more painful because its absence would become unbearable.
I think I was clenching my jaw by then. I was gritting my teeth fiercely trying not to voice the very thing that had to be said. Not because the desire would be granted, but precisely because I knew it couldn't. Sweat began running down my forehead into my perfectly functioning eyes; the salt burn just as fierce as on-planet. Finally, I could do nothing other than blurt it out, the words ripping involuntarily from my throat. I yelled it at the top of my lungs. There was no other alternative.
"I WISH TO SEE JESUS!"
