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RULES

"I'm in heaven."

"Thank you."

I looked at her. I knew nothing about her, but in the past few hours she had made me feel like I knew everything about her. She lay on her back next to me and her eyes were smiling, her lips were inviting, and her hands were a divine wonder I could not stop looking at. She was perfect. Everything was perfect. I couldn't remember who I was, I didn't remember what had happened to me or how I had gotten here. But I did remember there was only one perfect place in the world.

"I mean, I really am in Heaven, aren't I?"

"That's true," she answered after thinking for a moment. With one, flowing motion, she raised herself up to a seated position and the whole bed moved under her. Her hand stroked my thigh. "Was it good for you?"

I was addicted to her touch. I don't think the word ‘good’ was worthy of describing what I felt. It was not good. It was… divine. It was the best sensation I have ever felt. If I had known that was how Heaven felt, I would probably have arrived here sooner.

"It was okay," I replied.

Her hand paused. "Just okay?"

She sounded disappointed.

"The truth is, I don’t know what to compare it to. I can't remember anything before… here," I said and gestured around the room. Next to the bed was the black shiny robe that had been tossed aside. I couldn't remember how it had been removed from my body. Then I remembered how and smiled. Next to her, a little further, three red pasties sparkled. I wondered what the pale woman would do with them later.

"You really don't remember?" she asked.

"No. Nothing."

"But you must remember what your name is. Right?"

"No."

"Hmm." She pulled her knees to her chest and stayed silent for a few seconds. "It happens, every now and then. That people don't remember. I’ve heard of cases like this. It has something to do with the shock of crossing over. Usually the memories come back rather quickly. Once you choose a body, it shouldn't be a problem anymore. All the memories should be in it, before you even enter." Her facial expression was one of reflection.

"So what does it mean for me?" I questioned carefully.

"I don't know for sure, yet. I’ve never seen anything like it."

"And who are you, anyway? Why are you here?"

A beaming smile shined on her face.

"I work here. I escort the newcomers."

"Work? In Heaven?"

"It’s not Heaven for everyone," she sighed.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. I’m just complaining, really." She took my hand in hers and started playing with my fingers, examining them, their strength and flexibility. She entwined them with her fingers and I had trouble concentrating on what she was saying. "There's work everywhere. Even in Heaven. At least for me."

"So you…" I pulled my fingers away from hers eventually, trying to remember the Bible. Surprisingly, I managed to do that easily. "… are some sort of angel?"

Yes, I decided. She had to be an angel. She sure looked like one. Her touch was angelic; when I looked at her my heart skipped a beat. She made me feel as only an angel could make me feel. I could have sworn she was an angel. And if so, then wow, those religious guys had been so wrong all these years….

But her smile only broadened and she let out a jingling laugh.

"Of course not, silly. There are no angels in Heaven. I'm just like you, I came up here from downstairs. I've just been here a little longer. A veteran," she supplied. "And because I understand this place better than most, my job is to welcome them here. You know, soften the blow to new ones, like you."

This was very interesting. I sat up and crossed my legs. "What are they, exactly, new ones?"

"Those who've just come up to Heaven. Those who have no idea what's going on here, what the rules are -"

"Rules?" I interrupted her. "There are rules in Heaven?"

She shrugged. "There are rules everywhere."

I didn't like it. "It sounds too much like…"

I hesitated for a moment. I had meant to say the place where I had lived my previous life, but I didn't know what to call it. I knew I had lived on Earth. But where exactly was Heaven in relation to it? In space? On some spiritual, divine plane? My mind was filling with new questions at a dizzying rate. "What did you say earlier? Downstairs?"

"Yes, that's what we call it. Downstairs." Her indigo eyes shone and stared at me. "And what do you remember from life downstairs?"

I remembered almost nothing. There were vague fragments of pictures, sensations, but I didn't know how much of it was related to me at all, or how real they were. I tried to think about my previous life. I couldn't remember anything tangible. But I knew some general things.

"Rules, punishment, borders... work. That’s how it is downstairs, right? And if all that exists even after you go up to Heaven, then what's the difference really?"

She started laughing. At first it was a giggle, then another one, and then many more. Her entire body was shaking. She fell onto her back, tears of laughter in her eyes. I looked at her with renewed amazement. Have I mentioned she was more beautiful than anyone else I had ever seen?

Eventually she managed to speak again. She rose on her elbows and looked at me mischievously. "Now, tell me the truth: Everything you've accepted from me here, in the past few hours, did you ever get that downstairs, when you were alive? Yes, I know you don’t remember, but try and guess. Have you been with anyone like me?"

"I don't… well, probably not. Is it like that here all the time?"

"No. You’re just starting. It will get better."

"And that's the big difference?"

She shook her head and climbed off the bed. She looked around and located her pasties and walked toward them. I was fascinated by the way her back was straight and her body flowing.

"I can't say it's the biggest difference," she said over her shoulder. "But yes, it's one of them. Understand this: everything here is better. Stronger. More alive." She bent over and reclaimed her pasties. "Unlike you, I remember what I had down there. This is a zeta times better. But do you know what the best thing here is?"

She turned around and sent me a teasing look.

"Well?"

"You cannot die here."

For a brief moment of silence, our eyes locked. Then we both broke out in thundering laughter. Sure, you couldn't die here. Time didn't matter either. And if you cannot die and time doesn't matter, then the rules don't really exist. Neither do borders. And as if to prove the point, she came back to the bed, shamelessly leaning against me. As if she belonged there. I accepted her into my arms with the exact same feeling. Her body was firm, strong, and heavy on me. But my body knew how to handle it well.

"So can we… again?" I asked.

"My pleasure," she said, and began removing those pasties again.

-"Again!"

-"Yes. We did it a few more times."

-"I thought she was too busy for that."

-"Yeah, I thought so too. But no matter what other job she had to do, she wasn't in a rush to do it."

In between those few more times, I learned a few more things. In Heaven, it turns out, you don't really have to do all kinds of trivial things. Like eating or drinking, for example. Visiting the bathroom is not particularly necessary. On the other hand, if you choose to eat or drink, then wow. Like she said: zeta times better. Same with the bathroom, by the way. Or a warm bath.

Everything really did improve with time. Everything but my memory.

"Is something coming back to you?" she asked after a few more hours.

I shook my head. It bothered me greatly.

"Nothing. As if I was born here. I can’t remember anything from my life."

Her brows furrowed. "That’s not how it should be. Your memory should have returned."

"Some of my memory did come back. I remember how to talk, the language, so -"

She shook her head. "That's not how it works here. No matter what language you spoke downstairs, now you speak something else. Everyone speaks the same language here."

"What language is it?"

"It's just the language. It doesn't matter what you spoke downstairs. Chinese, Arabic, English. You can speak the language you’re used to, but when I hear you, it will be in the language I know. So what language did you think you've been speaking?"

I found out, to my surprise, that I didn't know that, either. The word ‘English’ appeared in my thoughts. I knew what English was, apparently. But I didn't know if I had been speaking English. I could have been speaking any language and she would still have understood me. The answer to my lack of memory, it turned out, did not have anything to do with that. But I had an idea.

"Why don't you check with your… boss? Is he around?"

"He’s always around. Do you really want me to go?"

I shrugged. "I just want to know who I am. Trash." I placed my hand on my mouth and looked around, worried. "Are you allowed to swear here? Is it… proper?"

She laughed a little again. "You’re such a baby, huh? You can’t really swear here. I mean, you can try. But all I’ll hear is 'trash.' More 'trash' and more 'trash.' And you're right about the boss. I’ll go check."

She got out of bed and left the room. It was so fast and sudden, for a moment I didn’t know what to do. Her pasties were still on the floor. I rushed to pick them up (they felt very soft in my hand, like silk) and ran out into the hallway, but then I remembered I wasn't wearing anything either and went back to pick up my robe.

About three seconds passed before I exited the room. She was no longer there.

Nor was the hallway.

For the first time, I was in Heaven.