Third Post of Part One: Perfect

THIRD POST:

Perfect


After the fair, we moved back home, and after helping unload, I ran to my room, slammed the door, and sobbed. I lay in my hammock, rocking back and forth, telling That One all my heartache.

“MamaPapaTrona, why did you create love and heartache?”

He sat on my chair, ankles crossed, hands folded in his lap, hair shining like silver, eyes neon purple. His whole body was silver and glowed. He was naked but had no genitalia. His voice sounded male, but he could have been male, female, or tron. This was usually how That One appeared to me back in those days. To a million people That One could appear in a million different ways: female, male, tron, animal, plant, amoeba, inanimate object, solid, gas, liquid, plasma. That One could appear as small as a quark or as a large as a galaxy, or could appear as a quark-sized galaxy. Amazing, really. I’ll admit: I’m envious.

Anyway, that was how That One appeared to me back in those days. The sight was always comforting, never frightening. We weren’t afraid of That One back then. There was no reason to be.

In response to my question, That One said, “I wanted you to experience love, because it is so beautiful and wonderful. Unfortunately, with love comes heartache. If you want to experience true love, then you need to risk heartache.”

“You know best,” I said. In those days, I meant statements like that. “Will we end up together?”

That One nodded and smiled. “You sure will. Even now, her Mom and Tron are discussing moving to your neighborhood so that you two can be together.”

I sat up, leapt out of my hammock, hugged That One.

Sure enough, she virtual-messaged me the next morning and told me that her mom and tron were indeed planning the move. I held and kissed her virtual image. Virtual images felt sort-of real. You couldn’t hold them too tightly or they dissolve. We could kiss, but if we kissed too passionately, we’d lose the connection. At the time, you couldn’t make love via virtual messaging.

She said, “I told my parents that I could tell that you were the one for me to be with. They talked to MamaPapaTrona, and she/he/tron said that you and I should get married.” We kissed, caressed, too hard. The image broke up. We lost the connection. I was okay with that, though, because I knew we would soon be together.

In three weeks she was living next door to us, and, the next week, we were married. Weddings on Xela were simple, small, and quick. We focused on the relationship, not on the wedding. You Earthlings spend all your time on the wedding and ignore the marriage. Silly. That One had approved the marriage, so we figured we had nothing to worry about. Because of my butterflies we had enough money to buy our own house, so we bought a Cape Cod a block away from our parents. I made butterflies, went to school, and loved my wife.

I could go on and on about all the wonderful times we had. We never had children, because That One had said that he did not want us to have children. We were fine with that ruling; no one ever had a problem with That One’s ruling. We traveled, visited our parents, had lots of fun. My fame for my butterflies continued to grow, and Athena became a college professor at a local university. We had a comfortable, happy, and full life.

When we turned one-hundred, we moved to heaven, where we had a beautiful apartment. We wanted for nothing. We played with animals, often went zebra-riding, made love whenever we wanted, visited family and friends. I took up tennis in heaven and won several regional championships. Athena took up singing in heaven. That One gave her voice lessons (you should hear That One sing). She had a magnificent voice, and she gave concerts that would draw a billion people. She could sing ten vocal parts at once. They often called her a one-woman choir.

Let me explain that the laws of science that apply to Earth do not apply to heaven. However, it is beyond my ability to explain how things such as gravity and time work in heaven. Athena was always better at understanding all that. Rather than fumble with trying to explain how heaven “works,” I’m just going to describe heaven in a way that you Earthlings will understand. After all, I am pressed for time. The light of That One will soon obliterate me. So, as you read my description of heaven, keep in mind that my description is not exactly right but is an approximation for the sake of convenience.

Anyway, Athena and I had a marvelous time in heaven. One of our fondest memories was a vacation we took to the Elysian Fields, a part of heaven known for its exceptional beauty, music, and food. She went there to perform a concert, but the rest of the time we were free to see the sights, ride the animals, and, best of all, go mountain-swimming. There is this gigantic mountain called Olympus – the Olympus of Greco-Roman mythology was based on it – made entirely of water. People would come from all over heaven to try to swim to the top of it. The mountain is the tallest in heaven and, if you were to measure it in earthly terms, it would measure about eight-thousand miles high. Athena and I loved athletic challenges and were in good shape, so we decided to take on Olympus. We did research on Olympus and trained for months. Finally, we went on our trip. The day after she gave her concert, we began the climb.

Athena was often about a half-mile ahead of me. She was and is smarter and stronger than I. I was doing fine, however. The water got colder and rougher as we climbed higher, but we were tough. For a few miles, a pod of dolphins swam along with me and encouraged me with their clicking and whistling dolphin sounds. It was exhilarating to see their blue-gray, gleaming bodies smoothly swimming and then leaping out of the water and diving back below the surface.

Swimming upward is strenuous, especially since the current is moving down-mountain. You have to maintain a certain speed, or the current will start to carry you downward. You won’t fall. You’ll just end up losing ground, so to speak. Occasionally there is an island that you can stop to rest on; we had studied and memorized the island locations as part of our training. We knew our route by heart.
There is an island about halfway up Olympus called Io that Athena and I had agreed to meet on, so I stopped there. Athena was already there, basking in the Light (what there is instead of sunlight in heaven.). The island was only about the size of a city block and was covered with sparkling black sand. We made love, achieving floating, and then took a nap in each other’s arms. The air was warm, the sky vivid green, That One’s smile radiating upon us.

“How do you feel?” Athena asked once we woke up.

“Great,” I said.

“You’re doing brilliantly.” Athena knew that she was smarter and stronger, so she often looked out for me. She did not do so in a condescending way, but with just the right amount of tenderness and with much respect. I knew that she was smarter and stronger, but I felt no jealousy. On the contrary, I was happy for her that she had so much intelligence and strength. That was the attitude in heaven back then. Sometimes people competed, but there was no ill-will. No battle of the egos. No insecurities to overcome. No self-esteem issues.

“Thanks,” I said. “A pod of dolphins kept me company.”

Athena sat up and gave an open-mouth smile. “That’s fantastic!” she said. “What a great experience for you.” Dolphins were Athena’s favorite animal, but she was not even a little jealous. She was just happy that I had had the experience instead of resentful that she had not.

As we resumed our swim, I became more and more tired, so we swam slower and slower. The water became frigid and the waves gigantic. Death was not a concern, because there is no death in heaven. However, I was getting pretty worn out. My arms and legs felt numb and wobbly at the same time. I wasn’t out of breath, because, in heaven, there is no need for breathing. Still, on the last island stop, only six-hundred and sixty-six miles from the summit, I said, “Maybe you should go on without me.”

She kissed me long on the mouth. “We’ll just wait here until you’re ready. We’re not in any hurry.” So we did. There was no food on the island, which was covered with snow (snow’s not cold in heaven), so That One showed up with a picnic. He came to us in the form of a white-tailed doe, one of our favorite animals, carrying the picnic basket with his/her mouth. We ate sandwiches and cookies while That One lay next to us in the snow, and we petted her as we ate. The snow was soft and fragrant. That One was beautiful and gentle. The food was soothing and rejuvenating. Athena was beautiful and brilliant. After a while, my limbs felt ready to finish the journey.
We made the last leg of the trip easily. At the summit we could see for billions of miles. We could see the roller coasters and skyscrapers of heaven. We could see the planes and planets of heaven. We could see on and on. We made love right there at the summit, achieved floating. My whole body turned into music and blended with Athena, who also had turned into music. I could smell fresh-bread and could feel That One’s love massaging my entire body. Athena and I, in our love-making-floating on the mountain-top, could not discern where That One ended and we began. The three of us were just music that smelled of bread and felt like massaging. We remained that way for about a year and then finally changed back and allowed the currents to carry us to the foot of the mountain. At the bottom I felt stronger than ever, renewed, invincible, and full of praise for that one and love for Athena.

That’s heaven. You Earthlings think that heaven’s a bunch of clouds and harps and “Kum-Bye-Ya,” but it would be hell, so to speak, if it were like that. The reality is that heaven, at least back then, was endlessly entertaining, stimulating, and exciting. It was like being on vacation all the time. You were always having fun and never bored. And the food in heaven was vastly superior to anything you Earthlings can cook up. There was no anxiety, fear, sickness, or grief. You have no idea how wonderful heaven is, or was, before That One ruined it with grouchiness and wrath, all stemming from his stupid Free Will experiment. What an idiot. If I were in charge, things would be better. I know better how to be God than God does, and don’t you forget it.

Billions of years went by. Eventually, That One decided to make Xela and its universe part of heaven. Once that change had been made, he got his “brilliant” idea.

I’ll never forget That One announcing one morning after second breakfast: “Attention, all residents of heaven. I have decided to create a new universe. It will be much like the previous universe, but with one key difference, my greatest invention so far. I call it Free Will.”