Carpool to Heaven

When Tabby imagined going to heaven, she had envisioned a golden staircase leading her toward the perfect sky, with angels and saints greeting her every step of the way. So she didn’t understand why she was walking along what looked to be a desert road.

A tumbleweed danced by her feet as she continued to walk down the straight, sandy path. The road wasn’t packed enough to support her weight. With every step, she sank into the sand. Without her walking stick, she feared it would only be a matter of time before she fell. If that wasn’t bad enough, she was battling with the worst heartburn she’d ever had. At least she wasn’t getting burnt to a crisp in the afternoon sunshine. She was already dealing with a burning sensation in her gut; she didn’t want to add skin burns on top of that.

That was another strange thing. The sun seemed ten times bigger in the sky, its golden rays shining down on her. Despite the sunny weather, there was a chill in the air. Tabby hadn’t had the precognition to grab her sweater before dying, so she had to suffer with the goose pimples that adorned her arms and legs. Trying to ignore how alone she was, Tabby walked on, hoping the direction she chose was the way to the great pearly gates. She was used to being alone, and—just like those long nights she spent at home crocheting another scarf her son would never wear—she knew she needed to occupy herself or risk going crazy.

She began to count her steps. Everyone thousand or so she would stop and draw a large line in the sand to mark her progress. It had seemed like a good idea until she turned around and noticed that each of her 15 lines was only spaced about a foot apart. It wasn’t just space that seemed to be distorting around her. The sun stood still, even though Tabby knew that at least a couple of hours had passed. Or…had they not passed? Was this how it felt to die? To be trapped in one space forever, never moving forward or back, her only companion that tiny tumbleweed?

Tabby stopped, kicking up a patch of sand that quickly drifted back to the ground. Her lip began to quiver; tears began to blur her eyesight and seemed to stick to her cheeks as soon as they fell. It felt as if some invisible specter was wrapping its frozen hands around her heart and squeezing it a little more with every beat. She let the tears all, her sobs caught and carried by that mysterious desert wind. She collapsed to the ground, her wrinkled knees hitting first, her baby-blue nightgown flaring out around her.

What did her body matter anymore? She was already dead—of that much she was sure—and it seemed she was being punished for some terrible sin committed on Earth. She was content to sit there and give in to the pain now creeping down her arms, up her neck, and through her heart. And for a moment, it seemed to work. She could almost hear the choir singing, could almost envision the great Saint Peter reaching down and grabbing her

hand—

—when she heard tires whipping across the sand and brakes squealing as if they had never tasted a drop of oil in their life.

Tabby jumped at the sound, turning to see a dark green vehicle barreling toward her. It looked to be some kind of minivan, peppered with dents and long scratches along the side. The van slowed down the closer it got to Tabby until finally, it came to a complete stop. As soon as it did, the driver’s side door opened, and a young woman jumped out. A young woman with blood covering half her face, her chest, and part of her leg. Words formed on the tip of Tabby’s tongue: a scream, a cry for help, something. Instead, all she could manage was a surprised croak. The woman knelt by Tabby, checking the older woman for injuries while being oblivious to her own.

“Oh, my goodness,” the woman muttered, the hint of a deep southern accent tinging her words. She tucked a piece of hair under her headscarf before grabbing Tabby’s hand. “Are you alright? I wasn’t expecting—I mean, I haven’t seen anyone in such a long time.”

Tabby pointed to the blood covering the woman’s face, this time managing a single sentence. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, this.” The woman waved to her face as if the wound were nothing but a scratch. “It’s nothing. Barely even hurts. But what about you? It looks like you fell; your knees are skinned awful bad.”

“Yes, I…” Tabby looked down at her legs, remembering that all she was wearing was a thin nightgown. She ripped her hand out of the woman’s grip and covered her chest with her arms. Compared to the woman’s Auburn University hoodie and baggy sweatpants, Tabby felt naked. Tabby stood as quickly as she could, putting a few steps between herself and the woman. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

The woman slowly stood, as if she was trying not to spook a wild animal. She readjusted her scarf but stopped short when the movement seemed to cause her pain. She held out a hand to Tabby. Surprisingly, it wasn’t bloody.

“My name is Malory. Malory Keets.”

Tabby looked down at the woman’s hand, wondering if she was viewing some sort of illusion. Had she finally gone crazy? She had been walking for a long time; maybe her brain had finally snapped and all she was seeing now was an apparition. Tabby lightly grabbed Malory’s hand, shocked when she felt soft, warm skin.

“Tabitha Williams.”

And with the introductions over, the two fell into silence. Bits of sand scattered over Tabby’s bare feet. The wind stirred the bits of Malory’s hair that were relatively dry. Eventually, the younger woman shuffled closer, again scanning Tabby’s body.

“So,” she began, “how’d you die?”

Tabby's hands clutched at her nightgown. “What?”

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t very polite of me. I only meant…” Malory trailed off, then gestured to her face. “Well, I’m pretty sure I died in a car crash. That’s about the last thing I remember before I wound up here.”

“Car crash?” Tabby leaned to the side, pointing to the van behind Malory. “Do you mean that car?”

“Oh, no, I would never drive a van.” Malory shivered at the last word, and Tabby couldn’t help but chuckle at the disgust that flew across the younger girl’s face. “I just stumbled onto it after a while. It doesn’t use up the gas and the odometer doesn’t tick up. Heck, a few times it even went down. Wherever we are, I don’t think it’s supposed to make sense.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.” Tabby tried to breathe, but once again the activity was much harder than she remembered. She let her arms fall to her sides, coughing as the heartburn flared back up with a vengeance. “I’m not sure how I…died.” The word seemed more final when she said it out loud. She cleared her throat, bringing up phlegm in the process. “I suppose this is heaven, then? The…afterlife?”

“Not what I imagined heaven to look like.” Malory spread her arms, gesturing to the great desert around them. “Aren’t there supposed to be angels, gold streets, a big ol’ throne? I’ve been driving for ages but haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Then are we…” Tabby didn’t want to consider the alternative eternal destination for them. “Maybe this is purgatory.”

“Like limbo?” Malory nodded. “Maybe. Were we not good enough to get into heaven or something? I don’t know about you, but I was a great person.” Tabby quickly held up her hands in surrender.

“I never said you were—”

“Top of my class, honored my parents, was a great girlfriend, I can assure you—”

“Listen, I think we’re getting off topic.” Tabby stepped toward the car and tried to pull on the passenger door. It slid open with a little resistance, revealing the sorry state of the interior. The leather seats were scratched up. Burger wrappers littered the floor; a dried-out French fry seemed to be stuck to the floorboards. A DVD player was suspended between the two front seats via bungy cords, though nothing seemed to be playing now. Tabby turned to Malory and waved her hand to the van. “So, the van was like this when you found it?”

“Yep. I tried tossing some of the junk, but it always ended up reappearing when I looked away.” Malory winced, putting a hand to the wound on her head. “Couldn’t find any pain meds. I guess that would be too easy.”

Tabby grabbed one of the burger wrappers, lips curling in disgust when grease coated her fingers. She quickly dropped it. “So…what now?”

“Well, I thought you could come with me.” Malory smiled, which was incredibly creepy considering the red dripping from her chin. “I’ll be honest, I was starting to go a little crazy by myself. When I saw you, I almost crashed my car a second time. I know we don’t know each other, but maybe if we work together, we can find a way out of this place.”

“A way out?” Tabby laughed, though it sounded as cold as the desert air around them. “What do you mean, ‘out’? Are we just supposed to find heaven? Find a way back to the living world?”

Malory’s grin quickly switched to a frown. “I don’t need the sass, Granny. I’m only trying to come up with a solution here.” She yanked the driver-side door open and slipped inside the car, slamming it shut. She rolled down the window just as Tabby was closing the sliding side door. “Listen, if you want to keep walking, be my guest. I’m going to keep going that way.” She pointed down the road.

“And what if you don’t find anything?” The pain in Tabby’s chest bloomed again. She took a few shaky breaths before trying to speak again. “What if this is it? We just keep wandering around here for the rest of time. Maybe…maybe it would be better to just give up now.” But Malory shook her head, her scowl slowly fading. The younger girl pulled at the front of her hoodie as if she was getting too hot.

“Sometimes…” She sighed, turning the keys in the ignition. The van sputtered a few times before roaring to life. “Sometimes I think I want to. When I feel like I’m not making any progress, I just want to ram this car into a particularly sturdy-looking cactus. But then I hear Jerry.”

“Jerry?”

“My boyfriend,” she clarified, a small smile gracing her face. “I feel like I can hear his voice sometimes. I don’t understand what he’s saying, but it's enough to keep me going, you know?”

Tabby stayed silent while Malory fiddled with the radio, trying to make something other than static play from the speakers. Tabby tried to think if she had heard anyone calling to her in her many hours (days? weeks?) of walking. But nothing came to mind. Her only companion had been the wind and sand. Malory cleared her throat, dragging Tabby’s attention back to the van.

“Listen,” Malory started, “you don’t have to come with me. You can stay here if you want. But I’m going to keep driving for now. I’m going to try to find Jerry.”

Tabby took a step closer to the window until she was close enough to reach out and touch Malory’s face. She laid her hands on the windowsill, looking deep into Malory’s bloodshot eyes. For what, she wasn’t sure.

“And what if you can’t find him?” Tabby’s words were a whisper. Malory sat up straight, her lips set in a fine line. She took a deep breath before covering Tabby’s hands with one of her own.

“Then I’ll find the other side.” Her voice was firm, and her eyes glowed with determination far brighter than the pseudo-sun in the sky. “And I’ll wait for him there.”

The two women stared at each other for a long time, each trying to find an answer in the other’s face. Tabby wished she could have the same faith as the young woman in the van. She wished she could somehow hear her son’s ghostly voice in the desert wind. But she hadn’t. Not yet at least. Malory placed her hands on the top of the steering wheel, raising an eyebrow.

“So,” she said, “are you coming?”

Tabby’s fingers tapped against the sill for a few seconds before she leaned away from Malory. Slowly, one hand grabbed at her chest, she walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door. The van was raised off the ground by a few inches, and it took a moment for Tabby to hoist herself into the vehicle. By the time she had buckled her seatbelt, Malory was getting the van out of park, a smile on her face.

“I hope you’re a good driver,” Tabby muttered as Malory pulled back onto the road.

“She says to the car crash victim,” answered Malory in a dry tone.

Tabby fiddled with the seatbelt strap, shrinking into herself like a turtle going into its shell. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” Malory waved her hand. Tabby heard the engine slowly rev up and felt the car shudder as Malory put more pressure on the gas. The younger girl grinned. For once the bloody smile didn’t make Tabby shiver. “Besides, there’s no speed limit here. If we’re already dead, we might as well have some fun with this, right?”

Tabby’s hands gripped the armrests as Malory clocked 90. The van continued to shake and cough, not used to the high speed. Tabby’s heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. For once, the pounding in her ribs didn’t hurt. She reached out a wrinkly hand and grabbed Malory’s arm, barking the order for her to stop. The younger girl listened, immediately slowing the van down. She pried Tabby’s hand off her, a guilty look flitting over her features.

“Listen, Tabitha, I’m sorry if that scared you. I—”

“Pull over and get out of the car.” Tabitha cracked her knuckles, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek. “I want a turn.”