A Flat Zero

 Charlie looked at the souls walking in line. He noted one older gentleman who was allowing a female to pass him. Over his head, a white numeral appeared, and the red number diminished from fifty-eight down to fifty-seven.

Charlie saw hope on the man's face and allowed others to pass him by. Once he saw his number stayed at fifty-seven, he pushed past all the people he'd allowed pass him, and his red number increased by fifteen to seventy-three.

The old man cursed, and the red number increased to seventy-four. He fell to his knees, crying. A woman stopped and hugged him. The white numbers over her head increased by one from nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine to an even twenty thousand. She looked up, saw the number and asked, "Can I share some of these tokens with him?".

Another number appeared over her head, and she had twenty thousand and one.

Charlie looked up at his number, zero. Such was the circumstances of being born in a cell and having spoken to no one for forty years till he passed one year later. A woman behind him asked, "Can I go ahead? My feet hurt". Charlie could see her number was one white token. Charlie didn't say anything but stayed in his position in the queue. She cursed him. A red one appeared, and now she was marked with a red one.

Charlie tried to make sense of what happened. One minus one was zero, so she should be the same as him at zero.

The line moved on. Two robed bureaucratic types with half-moon glasses were directing people to where they were meant to go. Some with high red numbers fought to avoid their fate. Some tried to strike the bureaucrats, but their hands hit nothing.

Small red figures appeared and would grip them and drag them away. Charlie took note of the scales and talons they used to seize their newest residents. The male in front of Charlie was shaking. He was next in line. The woman in front walked towards the area where all positive numbers were going.

Charlie looked just like a fabulously wealthy evangelist Charlie saw on the television. His number was red, a staggering four million six hundred and fifty-eight thousand, nine hundred and seventy-four.

One bureaucrat with a badge with "Coffee breaks exist to stop mass genocide" said to the other, "I believe this one is mine". The other nodded and said, "Takes one to know one, eh?".

They both laughed at the same time.

"I don't understand how I have a high number. I never did anything bad. I preached the words of the Lord", wailed the older fellow.

The bureaucrat smiled a smile, a mouth full of sharp pointed teeth. He licked his lips with a forked tongue.

"Yes, Mr. Goodall, you've brought many people joy in the Lord's name. Now, let's look at your bank balance," said the bureaucrat.

The man Goodall said, "I've no money. I gave it all away towards the end.".

"Not that one, I mean this one." He conjured a small TV screen on the back that was written, "You don't have to be evil to work here, but it helps".

"I won't bother with the most minor crimes like embezzlement, murder, swindling people. Using your position for sexual favours from the wives or daughters of your congregation to make them fear for their husbands' or fathers' careers".

Images of happy children being excited at seeing him, then photos of their bodies burned. Images of Goodall testifying in court of his friends being murderers and child rapists. Images of Goodall in dark red rooms and screams of his victims.

"None of that happened. I had myself hypnotised to forget it." then his face went pale at the realisation. Here, nothing is hidden or forgotten.

Charlie looked on and felt nothing. The man Goodall fought and was dragged away by several of the imps. As they marched towards his end, one would tear a limb off and put it back in place.

Charlie stood in front of the desk; he had two bureaucrats in front of him.

Simultaneously, both asked, "Is this one of yours?".

Then simultaneously, both said, "No".

One said to the other, " I think we need to see his bank details."

The monitor appeared again. A video of Charlie in a cell by himself appeared. Then, a door opened, and he was released. Then, after a year of therapy to help him adjust to the real world, then nothing.

One robed figure reached for a burning phone that appeared on the desk. Charlie heard the phone ring once, and then a figure appeared. It had horns, bulging muscles, slanted eyes, a goatee and dark skin. A scrubbing brush had been in use. Obviously, it has been bathing. The sound of splashing water and screams and a tiny shark came into view. The figure reached, and the perspective shifted back to its face only.

"Well, what do you want?" asked the figure.

"Your Most Immoral, I regret bothering you, but we have an anomaly here. We have a Nihil,"

A look of impatience flew across the face of the figure on the screen, "send it to Sanctus Duos Calceamenta".

"Yes, you're Most Immoral," said the bureaucrat.

The other bureaucrat sighed and reached for a phone on its side of the desk. It had flowers growing on it.

A figure appeared in a garden. It had been pruning a flower.

"How may I be of assistance to you, my most humble associate?" asked the figure.

The bureaucrat said, "My Most Gracious, we have an anomaly; we have a Nihil".

"Preposterous, that's impossible. Send it to Nothi Mali Mendacem," said the gardening figure.

"Most Angelica Seniori, we did, and they sent it back to us," said the bureaucrat.

An angry look appeared on the face.

"I'm coming down there with my aligned partner. This better not be some joke", he muttered.

The queue was building up behind Charlie, a man who in life had been a hot dog salesman, had his cart appear in front of him. He was selling sausages.

The two overlords appeared at the desk. Both looked angry. "Is this the Nihil," both asked at the same time.

"Yes, overlords," said the bureaucrats in unison.

They both looked at Charlie. He could feel them in his mind, fingering his thoughts,

"We need to send this higher,"

Both reached for phones. A flash of light heralded a new figure; it brought the smell of roses and a feeling of peace. Then, a loud flash of light and a thunderous roar brought the sounds of a casino and the excitement of winning.

The two entities appeared. One was flipping a coin, and the other pouring through books.

After some time, the hotdog salesman reached the top of the queue. Realising his peril, he dashed back to where he was supposed to be. The two overlords looked at each other and nodded. The salesman's number changed from numbers to a written language. It was some oriental language. He looked up and couldn't read what was there. "Am I going up or down".

The two entities approached Charlie, "We've decided your fate. You'll be reborn again fifty years ago and relive your life. That ought to make things clearer."

"Don't I have a choice," asked Charlie.

"No," both the entities shouted.

© Boris Doyle 2023