Oliver Benjamin
Perhaps there was a queue to get into the pearly gates. He heard
some muffled conversation and then they all accelerated again. They
were in! His papers must have checked out. He never really had any
doubt: he had been a good man. The only source of pride for the dead
or dying is the quality of their conscience.
Minutes later the word of God sparkled through the speakers like
a cascade of shattering diamonds. “Well, we’re here,” he said. The
doors unlocked automatically and Roy placed his long, thin fingers
around the handle. He stepped out into a brilliant world of noise and
neon.
“Salchicha con beicon!” cried a short, dark man pushing a badly-
painted wooden cart. Gaudily-dressed tourists swarmed along the
dirty boulevard by bored-looking prostitutes dangling their wares.
“Oh no!” Roy cried, “Hell! I’m in hell!”
The front passenger-side door of the limousine opened up and
out stepped the grey-haired navigator. He looked just like the die-
hard lawyer he was always portrayed to be.
“Pretty close,” Sprout’s father said, “Tijuana at night.” Roy’s eyes
tried to adjust to the glare, his ears to the noise. He was speechless,
blinded, deafened, dumb. A reprobate.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve done this,” Bunting said.
“Because of killing Ellie? It wasn’t my fault.”
“What?”
“Or was it for cheating on my taxes? Wait. I know! For working
at Biddenbrooks. Was Bidden the devil? I didn’t know! I didn’t
know!”
He grabbed Roy by the shoulders. “Get a holdof yourself man!
What the hell are you talking about?”
“Hell! You’ve condemned me to hell!” Roy screamed. People
stopped to stare at the lunatic in the prison coveralls.
Reed Bunting glanced around and pushed Roy back into the car.
They sat together in the back seat. Roy explained what he thought
was going on.
“Roy, listen to me,” Bunting raised his voice, “You’re not dead. I
showed up just in time to foil your suicide. I want you to live. And I
want you to live free.”
“But why?” Roy was saying. “Haven’t I suffered enough?”
“Damn it man, who hasn’t?” Bunting said, “But because of you,
maybe some of us are suffering a little less. For that I want you to be
rewarded. I’ve posted your bail. In the meantime, I’ll try to get the
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