A Bargain for a Bargain

John found himself standing motionless, in what he could only describe as white nothingness. Maybe I had a stroke, he thought. Maybe I’ve been taken over by AI, and I exist only in a world of electrons and protons. Where am I? He wondered. “Hello, can anyone hear me?” he called out. “Yes,” someone said behind him. “Turn around and look at me, you imbecile.”

John turned and faced a large man with thick white hair and a long, unkempt beard. He sat behind a wooden desk and peered threateningly down at John. On the desktop stood a bottle of cherry soda next to a laptop computer. And scattered about were cashews, spread out like they had been tossed to a stray dog. He popped some nuts in his mouth, took a drink of soda, and then thundered out, ‘Who are you?”.

John couldn’t remember his name. He was terrified. Who was he? Just go with the flow, just go with the flow, he thought, remembering his mantra that had helped him so much in the past.

The large man gave John a disgusted look and spoke more pointedly to him. “Do you even know why you’re here?”

“No,” said John. He paused for a moment, trying to recall something, anything. He meekly replied, “The last memory I have was going for a drive. Now I’m here, standing in front of you.”

The man loudly asked again, “Who are you?”

John thought for a moment, and luckily, the answer popped into his head. “I’m John, John Adams O’kennedy, or at least I think I am.”

“OK, John John Adams O’kennedy,” the man scoffed. “Give me a moment, pretty pleeeese,” he said mockingly. He began typing into the laptop, and his large hands, with their wide fingertips, started hitting two keys at once.

All of a sudden, the white nothingness that encircled them changed into a beautiful tropical paradise. John stood in the middle of a perfect sand beach with a deep blue sky above and a crystal clear ocean just steps away.

“God dam it!” the man screamed. “Oops, I mean, dam it.” He paused. “Um, pardon my French, John John. This is my screensaver.” He hit another key, and instantly the beach was gone, and the white nothingness returned. “I still haven’t learned the latest version of Windows.” Then he said more to himself than John, “I don’t know why, but they seem to take great pleasure in making things harder to use. I can’t wait to speak to Gates about this, whenever he comes to see me.”

John stood quietly, trying not to upset the man who sat in front of him, grumbling. He still didn’t know what was happening. Whoever this guy is, he seems extremely annoyed with John. John’s natural instinct was to avoid someone like this, but in his present predicament, he didn’t have a choice.

The man finally spoke up. “It looks like you’re here because you’ve been flagged as someone who can be either admitted or sent down. Hmm…, it doesn’t look good for you two Johns, I guess it’s up to me.” He looked up from the computer and smiled menacingly at John.

John began to tremble. Just go with the flow, just go with the flow he repeated in his head. He was afraid to speak or even move. Then he looked more closely at the man and had a sudden realization. “Are you… St. Peter?”

“Wow, if it isn’t Albert Einstein, can’t sneak one past you, can I? Quick call the papers, we’ve just discovered uranium!” He shrieked condescendingly. Then he said more calmly, “Yes, I’m St. Peter, that’s my formal name. I’m not really a saint, so I prefer people just call me Peter.”

“Am I dead?” John asked. He looked left then right, hoping to find someone else to talk to. Shouldn’t there be at least one other person here, someone more sane?, he thought. There was nothing around but white, empty space.

Peter ignored John’s question and resumed speaking, being even more pompous than before. “Yes sir, I’m St. Peter, keeper of the keys!, doorman for the dead!, blah blah blah…, God I hate this job!” He realized he could have been overheard and quickly corrected himself. “Oops, I mean, the repetitive nature of this job can be quite taxing.”

“Wait a minute,” said John. He was becoming clearer headed now. “I’m an atheist, and if I’m dead, should I even be here? I don’t even like religion. Having to get up early on Sunday mornings, singing psalms, I’m always the one key on the piano that’s out of tune. I couldn’t carry a tune if my life depended upon it!”

“Well, I guess now you know your life does depend upon it.” Peter smirked, then shouted out, “Oh snap! I bet you didn’t see that one coming, ha!” He laughed hysterically, tears rolling down his face.

John looked around again, hoping to find someone else. He then asked, “Isn’t there someone else I can talk to, like someone in a higher position?”

Peter finally stopped laughing and wiped the tears from his face. After hearing John’s question, his mood changed abruptly. He glared at John. “Do you think this is like a restaurant where if you get served bad clams, you can call the manager, hoping to get a free meal? No wonder you’re here, you disgusting little pissant.”

“No, I mean, it’s just that I don’t think I should be here,” replied John.

“Well, I know another place you can be,” insinuated Peter.

John gulped, realizing he may have just sealed his fate. He had to figure out how to get out of this situation. Just go with the flow, just go with the flow he repeated in his head. He then asked, “So if you’re St. Peter,”

Peter quickly interrupted, “Just Peter, if you please.”

John continued, “Yes, if you’re Peter, shouldn’t there be a gate? And why aren’t there any other people here waiting in line to see you? That’s how it’s always shown in movies.”

Peter quickly replied, “You mean there should be a line of people, like their all waiting to get a license at the DMV?” He sat back in his chair and looked more seriously at John. “Well, John John Adams O’kennedy, let me tell you my dilemma. Our list of applicants has slowed down quite a bit lately, which is really unfortunate because the fewer up here means the more down there.” Peter paused and looked more earnestly at John. “So, I think it’s time to reverse that trend, don’t you? How about we make a deal, a bargain if you will?” He paused. “You help me get a specific destructive man up here, one who has made a demonic agreement, and I’ll make sure you’re first in line at the gate, despite your questionable history.”

John raised his eyebrows. “You mean kind of like reversing a Faustian bargain? Where someone has traded their soul?”

“Yes,” Peter replied, “if you want to think of it that way. I’d prefer to think of it as being more like ‘A Christmas Carol’. You know, ghosts show Scrooge the error of his ways, causing him to change his outlook, become nicer, yada yada yada. You get the picture.”

John thought about it for a moment. “Ok, but how will it work? Will I be a ghost? Or something like a supernatural being who shows up in their dreams and convinces them to change their life?”

Peter replied, “No, nothing frightening. We want him to make the decision of his own free will. He shouldn’t feel threatened. It should be because you’ve convinced him to make the change. And we should keep it more pleasant and fun,” he said, moving his arms as he talked. “Maybe even humorous, he should know what it’s like up here as opposed to what it’s like down there. We do have fun, and we do have a sense of humor. I mean, look at the blobfish, that thing’s hilarious. Or the poisonous, egg laying beaver duck you call a platypus. I laugh just thinking about it.” Peter sighed happily.

John still wondered how it would work. “How will he know I’m not some figment of his imagination? Will I have to convince him why I’m there?”

Peter reassured John, “He’ll know who you are and why you’re there. He’s already bargained away his soul. You’ll appear in front of him just as you appear in front of me.” Peter smiled darkly and cupped his chin with his fingers. “This will be a true test of your worth, John John.”

Alarm spread across John’s face.

“Your victim is a certain U.S. president. He’s gone from being a normal idiot to an idiot ruining the lives of millions. So, go now, and I’ll see you when you’re done.”

And after Peter’s last word, John disappeared.

The president sat alone in the oval office, behind the resolute desk, reading and highlighting passages from a copy of Ayn Rand’s ‘Atlas Shrugged’. A quick flash of light shined in his eyes, and John magically appeared in front of him. “Oh, you’re here,” he said, as if he expected John sooner.

Nervously, John stepped toward the president and sat down in a chair in front of him. He noticed a desk name plate that said, ‘President of the United States of America’, followed by another sign that said, ‘What can you do when you have to deal with people?’ John was beginning to understand why so many people hated him. “Umm, I guess you know why I’m here?”

“Yes, I suppose this is about my current deal with someone who has given me a great deal of wealth, power, and prestige. And you’d like me to renege on it,” the president said.

John nervously cleared his throat and began speaking off the cuff. “You’re being given an extraordinary chance to redeem yourself and change the direction of your future and the country’s future. Change the direction of society for the better. Not only will it benefit you, but also the people you represent. Your accomplishments will be based on your own ‘blood, toil, tears, and sweat,’ as Churchill would say. Not on a granted wish. You’ll be just like all the brave souls who struggled, fought, and died saving our country in World War II. Citizens will think of you not as someone only interested in your baser instincts but as someone who has truly dedicated his life to the betterment of mankind. Think of all the good you can do in this world! You’ll earn respect and admiration.” John stopped and thought that was a pretty good speech for being spur-of-the-moment.

The senator quickly replied, “If having to struggle and fight for little reward is what you want for me, I’m not interested. I have such great power. I’m like a god. People fear me. I can do whatever I want. Why would I want to change that?”

John was at a loss for words. He had just made what he thought was a great argument. Now he had to think of something else, but nothing came to mind. “How can I convince you, Mr. President?”

“You can’t,” answered the president.

John tried to continue his speech, but his thoughts went back to his bizarre meeting with Peter. Then, uncharacteristically, he couldn’t control what came out of his mouth. “There’s cherry soda and all the cashews you can eat. And computers come with the latest Windows software and awesome screensavers! Plus, they have humor and fun. They enjoy laughing at funny animals like the blobfish and the platypus. You can have your own nickname too, like mine is John John or two Johns. It’s a wonderful world up there, and people are totally normal.” He knew the last reason probably wasn’t true since the only person he knew up there was Peter, and he was far from normal.

The president looked at John like he was an insane two-year-old. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why in the world would I want any of that?”

“But you can be with your friends and family.” John said.

The president replied, “I’ve never had any friends, and I can’t stand my family.”

Then John said, “Think of your future.”

“Don’t care,” said the president.

“What about your…”

“No,” said the president.

“But …”

“No,” said the president again.

“Can’t you…”

“No,” said the president for the last time.

And with that, John disappeared.

Just as quickly as John had disappeared from the president’s office, he reappeared in front of Peter. “So, John John Adams O’Kennedy, how was your meeting with the great and powerful Oz? Did you convince him to join the flock up here?”

John’s face showed his disappointment. “Well, I think he had already made up his mind. He was never going to change. When I got there, he was reading ‘Atlas Shrugged’ and highlighting his favorite passages.”

Peter tilted his head back. “Ahh, Ayn Rand, such a disappointment with all that nonsense about selfishness.”

“He thinks he’s like a god,” said John.

“Hmm,” noted Peter. “So you failed.”

“Considering I didn’t have time to prepare, I thought I made some pretty good points,” replied John.

“I heard your argument. It started out very well, but when you started talking cashews and blobfish, your whole line of reasoning crumbled. I knew he would be a tough nut to crack, but in the end, you failed.”

“But there are some people who will never change. It’s in their nature,” John responded. “It was like trying to walk through a wall when there’s no door. I couldn’t find his door. Now it seems like all I’ve ended up with are bruises and a headache.”

“I like you two Johns, and that was an interesting analogy, or was it a metaphor? I’m not sure. I need an assistant to help figure things like that out. I keep telling them I need someone, but they keep claiming there’s no money in the budget. It’s all office politics,” Peter sighed. “Anyway, you still failed. Our bargain was for you to get him to recant, and I let you in. If you don’t, you go down.”

“But I was sincere in my effort. Doesn’t that count for something? John asked worriedly.

Peter began to laugh. “Sincerity gets you in? Just like Linus has the most sincere pumpkin patch? And I, as the Great Pumpkin, respect sincerity and let you in? That’s the best argument I’ve heard all year.” He chuckled and started to rant sarcastically. “If I let every sincere sinner in, that would be chaos. That’d be delinquent bedlam, a madhouse! Please help me! Help me! The walls of Jericho are falling! Oh my god!” Peter gave a deafening laugh, then quickly realized he was probably being watched and stopped his theatrics.

“I think this was an impossible task,” said John.

“No, there was a chance. I wouldn’t make it impossible. If I did, no one would ever get in,” replied Peter. “Per the agreement, you’re going down.”

“Wait a minute, can’t I do something else?” John asked hopefully.

“Goodbye, two Johns,” said Peter, laughing.

“Please don’t. I’ll do anything,” John pleaded.

“Goodbye, John John,” Peter said, waving and laughing even louder. “Now fly, fly away my pretty, and take your little dog too!”

John’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. Just go with the flow, just go with the flow, passed through his head. No, that was an awful mantra, he realized. Don’t go with the flow! Don’t go with the flow! He tried desperately to run away, but he couldn’t move. He struggled with all his might to leave but stood motionless, looking up at Peter laughing at him. He didn’t want to go down there. No, this couldn’t be happening!

Peter stuck his leg out from under his desk and placed the sole of his shoe on John’s forehead. He pushed John’s head down and sadistically howled, “Now fly, fly away!”

Then John disappeared.

John lay sleeping in an unfamiliar room. There were machines constantly beeping, which gradually woke him up. With difficulty, he opened his eyes to see where he was. He realized he was in a hospital. There was an I.V. in one arm and some type of sensor wrapped around his other arm. He tried to sit up, but his body was instantly engulfed in pain. He slowly remembered that he had been in an accident. He was hurt but alive, and for some reason, being able to feel the pain made him glad. He knew he would be okay. Just go with the flow, just go with the flow. Wait, what was he thinking? That was a terrible mantra. Let anything happen to you without responding or trying to protect yourself? Don’t go with the flow, don’t go with the flow was more like it. No more mantras for John. There was also something else. Something was in the back of his mind that he couldn’t remember. What was it? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to remember. It was even more disturbing than the accident. For some reason it made him dread his future. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he didn’t like it. And somehow, he needed to change.