She stood at the pearly white gates and stared in awe at the scene before her. People dressed in white, some with wings and many without, were moving hither and thither.

One man, not more than 20 years old, who was tending the garden, turned and smiled at her. 

So young! But why does he look so familiar? Have I met him before?

She returned an uncertain smile. 

She looked down at her wrinkled hands, reflecting a full, well-lived life. 

Lucky?

She reached a small alcove at the gate and found a man with a flowing white beard and a kind smile. 

“Welcome, Thelma!” He greeted, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Let me see what we have here.” He looked at a computer on his white desk, mumbled as if he was reading something and said aloud.

“Aah! A good, happy life, it seems.”

She bowed gracefully and replied, “Indeed, sir. I’m truly grateful for everything. Loads of love from my family, a comfortable home, and enough food on the table. What more did I need?”

The Doorkeeper’s smile widened. “I’m so happy for you. Welcome to Beyond the Pearly Gates. Before I open the door, I have just a few more questions for you.”

“Ask away,” said Thelma.

What’s your first memory?

“That’s easy. My father’s beautiful farm.” 

“Describe it.”

“It was vast, prosperous. Hectares of cornfields! When the cobs emerged, the riot of yellow interspersed in a carpet of green was the prettiest sight.”

“I loved to sing, traipsing happily through the pathways. ”

“What happened to the farm?”

“Father lost all of it. I knew much later it was because of his gambling debts. Our entire family heritage was gone in the blink of an eye.”

“Then?”

“Then, life happened. I married David, a farmer like my father but poorer, steadier and with no bad habits. A good man, husband, and father. I happily fit into his life and helped him on the farm.” 

“Four children followed quickly one after another, each more robust than the other. Feeding, cleaning, and working on the farm took a major portion of my life.”

“Any complaints?”

“None whatsoever. I loved my family, and they loved me back. When it was time, I gladly embraced death, and here I am before you.”

“Good! Good! No regrets at all, Thelma?” His eyes now bore into Thelma’s. Her confidence faltered.

“Well, you know, every life is a mixture of the good and bad. So, of course, I had some bad, and therefore, a few regrets.”

“Tell me your biggest regret.”

The reply was spontaneous. “That I killed someone.”

A flicker of a smile that said, “Aah! Finally, the acceptance! That’s all that is needed.”

The Doorkeeper smiled and snapped his fingers. The Pearly Gates opened wide, and Thelma walked in, her head held high. Her entry into heaven assuaged her guilt. 

The young man tending the garden came forward to greet her. The two had been exchanging glances throughout the conversation with St.Peter.

“Hello, I’m Tom!”

“Hello, Tom. I’m Thelma.”

“Do we know each other?”

“I think we do. You keep coming in my dreams!”

“Dreams? Here, in heaven?”

“Oh yes, dreams continue even after death, Thelma.”

“It feels like I came here seeking you. Because my mind is so much at peace now. I was quite frazzled, confused, and scared right through my journey to this place. When I saw you, I felt a sense of purpose for coming here.”

“Really? Coz I felt the same, Thelma. It’s like I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Some kind of earthly connection, huh?”

She smiled at him again. 

“How did you die?”

“An accident, ma’am.”

“Accidents are the worst. You think you’re not responsible. But the memory haunts you. How did it happen?”

“It was the day when my life’s dream was fulfilled. I got the most prestigious music award in the world. I was the youngest musician to get it. My head was swimming in an ocean of bliss. I remember getting into my car with reporters and journalists from all over the world trying to get hold of me for an interview. I heard the chants of my name by my fans. 

“Tom! Tom! Tom!”

He smiled at the memory even as he mimicked his fans, waving their hands in rhythm with the chants.

“Deep in my heart, I knew that would be the best day of my life. A happy day to die. The car sped out of the driveway. Suddenly, something crashed into my car. My world turned black for an instant. In the next moment, I found myself outside the gates at the same place you were standing when we exchanged smiles.”

She closed her eyes to relive the memory that was seared in her soul! 

Her stepfather, that abusive man who visited her every night since she got her periods!

Her mother, who wouldn’t hear a word against her husband! 

“We’ll be out on the streets if it wasn’t for him,” she kept saying. “Your father left nothing for us.” As if Thelma was to blame!

“That’s how he shows his love. And we have a roof over our heads and food on the table.” Her mother kept saying. 

That night at the movies, his hand slid into her knickers. 

On the drive back home, in a moment of delirious anger, she hit him with the new shovel they had picked up from the store after the movie. 

Her eyes opened. She stared unseeing at the roof of the asylum room she stayed in for more than five decades, totally alone, diagnosed with multiple personality disorder since the accident. 

The accident she caused by hitting her stepfather. The day when he had lost control and drove into another car, killing everyone, including innocent Tom. Only she had survived. 

The heavenly scene haunted her every night. Her life with David and her four children just about kept her at the edge of sanity.