Welcome to Hell

“Welcome to Hell, Myra Goldstein. Your call is very important to us and will be answered in the order it was received. Did you know that you can now conveniently check the status of your complaint online at www.your.call.doesn’t.matter.com?"

    “But that website is down!” My voice echoed off the surround sound system in the cavern walls as the recording played yet again. I pushed several buttons on the ancient rotary phone on the desk in front of me and swiveled in my chair. “How do I turn the volume down?”

    A strong breeze moved through the dark cave as a tall lithe blonde woman floated through the stone wall and glided toward me. “There are no adjustments,” she tittered. “Improvement doesn’t exist here. Loud and intrusive is part of the design.” She spread her billowy white gown in an exaggerated flounce. “I’m Marley, you’re Hell’s angel. You’ve been doomed to the Specialized Irritations Division. It’s an afterlife customized just for you.”

  It had occurred to me many times during my 48 years on earth that hell would be listening to an eternal phone recording of my unresponsive insurance company, but I never believed it was actually true. There had to be a way out of here. I just needed to clear my thoughts.

    “But, how did I get here?” There’s no way this could be my destiny.

    “Don’t you remember?” Marley asked. She gave a dramatic sigh and launched into another tittering laugh. Was that laugh on a sound track? “You got called out on one of your little fiblets during a sales meeting and then passed out cold. Your head hit the beautiful tile floor. Handcrafted mosaic design, but it’s still a terrible way to go, really.”

    “You mean I literally died of embarrassment?”

    “Guess so.” She shrugged. Her sapphire blue eyes penetrated me. “May I say you often overreacted during your short time on earth? You complained and fibbed your way out of things more than a millennial. Think about it, Myra. Were you really sick last week or did you just want to avoid that work conference in New Jersey?”

    “Guilty as charged. But, I didn’t do anything THAT bad,” I said. “It was just my way of trying to be socially polite while avoiding things that were —-”

    Marley put up her hand and motioned for me to stop. “It’s a little late for all this. All those pesky little offenses add up, just like the never ending small purchases on your charge card each month.”

    I sighed. Multiple regrettable moments ricocheted through me. “I did waste a lot of precious moments. I see that now.” My heart pounded. I tried to tame the quiver in my voice. “I can do better. Let me go back. I’ll do it different this time.”

    “Hmmm.” Her black nail polish gleamed as she tapped her lip with a long thin finger.

    She was definitely considering my second chance. “I can pay you. Just let me go back,” I pleaded. “I have an account set up, just for major emergencies.”

 “You mean, you’d like to try again? You’re even willing to buy another opportunity to finally get it right?” She cocked her head to the side and gave me an encouraging smile.

    “Yes. Just name the price.” I pleaded.

    “You won’t fudge your company sales numbers this time? Or tell your Aunt Mindy that you adore her pie and then secretly hide it in the trash? Or claim you need an emergency root canal just to avoid a family gathering? Like, you want a total do-over?”

    “Yes! I realize now that all those little offenses count. No more fibs. No more obsessing about minor irritations.” I may be in Hell but didn’t she say she was an angel? Perhaps she had some compassion. Despite my best efforts to contain my emotion, tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’ll study meditation next time. I’ll respond more mindfully and treasure every moment.”

    Marley nodded. “Let’s get you calmed down and then we can talk about it. You died before your daily coffee run. How about a pumpkin spice latte? ’Tis the season.”

    “Oh, that would be great. And very calming. Thank you.” We were definitely building a bond. She actually seemed to care about the comfort my daily brew provided.

    Marley’s figure air lifted and her gown again billowed in the breeze as she swirled in rapid circles around me. She had chided me for overreacting in life yet seemed a bit on the dramatic side herself. I opted not to call her on it.

    “Your brew is served.” She trilled upon landing beside me. “We even shipped in your favorite cup.”

    I received the familiar blue earthenware mug from her with a smile. I had no idea a simple coffee cup could be so precious. The warm scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. She must have a heart to go out of her way to customize this comfort. I had to convince her to give me that second chance on earth.

    “Enjoy.” She said. Her arms waved through the air.

    I took a hearty sip. The acidic bitter taste of burnt coffee coated my tongue. My gag reflex sent a forceful stream of cream colored liquid from my mouth.

    “Like it?” She tilted her head to one side.

    I coughed and somehow managed to swallow. “It’s worse than gas station brew.”

    Her raucous laughter bellowed through the room. Now I knew. That laugh was definitely pre-recorded on an obnoxious soundtrack. “Your special brew was left on the burner for precisely with hours. And the pot hasn’t been washed in six weeks. Just the way you hate it.” She looked at me with a satisfied smile and lifted her hand in a motion for me to stand. “Let’s go. You’ve completed the experience. It’s time to meet the Devil.”

    My heart began to pound. “But I may be going back. You said we could talk about my second chance at life. I can pay you right now.”

    Marley gazed at me in silence.

   “Do you prefer Venmo?” I asked.

    She waved her hand in dismissal.

    “PayPal?”

    She gave me a hard side-eye and shook her head.

    “Cryptocurrency?” My voice squeaked.

   “Shiny financial apps are worthless here.”

    “Oh, I should have known!” I tapped my forehead. “Hell is much more of a traditional institution. Of course, you only take checks. No problem. I just need to somehow get—”

    “You’re really starting to bore me.” Marly rolled her eyes. “I shall repeat one last time; your money is worthless. Inflation, interest rates, and even shipping costs are all completely irrelevant. Your life choices are the only currency that matters here. So, don’t even bother to offer me your gas card or that clunker of a BMW you drove. Now, it’s time to descend another level. Follow me. Let’s not keep the Devil waiting.”

     My legs quivered but I somehow managed to stand. “I thought you said I might be going back to life! Surely we can make a deal of some kind. There’s really no need for me to meet him.”

    “Do not offend the gracious being with a reference like ‘He.’ I can see you’ve bought into the brochure version of Hell.” She glared at me. “You’re 48. You know not to believe everything you read.”

    “I meant she,” I corrected.

    Marley shook her head in disgust.

    “I apologize.” I really needed to do all I could to stay on her good side, if she had one. “The Devil is androgynous?”

    “No more chit-chat. You’ll see. Follow me down.”

    She led me to the entry of a winding staircase. Bright light shined through jade tones of stained glass that framed each side of a crafted white marble staircase.

    “It’s beautiful.” I gazed at the staircase in mock appreciation. Make a plan then work the plan, I reminded myself. If overreaction to irritations got me here, perhaps the opposite, patience and gratitude will set me free. “Thanks for all you’ve done for me.” I forced myself to look at her. “I appreciate you personally guiding me down here. I love the way the light shines through the glass.”

     Marley shook her head. “As I said, don’t believe everything you read. Hell isn’t all dark and dreary. Now, be sure to chant, “Holy Hell” on each step as we make our way down.

    I saw no option but to cooperate. I followed her down the winding staircase, obediently repeating the eerie code words “Holy Hell” as we went.

    We reached the bottom of the stairs to find a circe of familiar people seated cross legged on floor cushions. There was pesky Jeanine Sims from accounting, long winded Sonja who lived next door, fellow realtor Matt who always had a fresh criticism of my work, my great aunt Selma who tried to tell me how to live, and Howard from Quality Motors who cheated me on my last car repair.

    “Welcome to Hell, Myra Goldstein,” the group chanted in unison.

    “Anyone look familiar?” Marley asked.

    My pleasant facade could no longer take the force. “Let me out of here!” I screamed “What are they all doing here?”

    “Your customized Devil isn’t one person. It’s a committee of people that sent you over the proverbial edge in life. Don’t worry. There are more frustrating beings on their way, including your ex-husband. His narcissism is quite festive.”

    “You mean they’re all dead too?” I gasped.

    “Oh, no.” She made a dismissive wave with her hand. “They’re all alive and flourishing. We just had their irritating personalities imported in for you.”

    Marley turned to the group. “Myra has been amusing me upstairs with talk of a do-over. She actually thinks second chances exist and that she could purchase her way out of Hell.”

    A chorus of laughter echoed through the room.

    I had to save myself. Make a plan and work the plan. I lunged toward the avocado green rotary phone hanging on the cavern wall and quickly dialed 911.

    “Welcome to Hell, Myra Goldstein,” the group began to chant. “You have reached the customized Irritations Division. Your call has never mattered to us and will definitely never be answered no matter when it was received. You will now listen to this recording forever.”

    “Hell hath no fury like Myra Goldstein scorned.” Marley announced. Her gown again billowed as she floated away. The cavern door slammed shut with an echo.