25.Z was not in a good mood.
He had just been stretched out on a rack. His arms and legs yanked to the point of feeling like they were being torn off. To the point where Z almost wanted them torn off. At least then it would all be over with. At least the pain could no longer increase in severity. But alas, his limbs stayed attached to his body, continuously excruciatingly stretched for what seemed like ten years, which in reality was probably one hundred years. After the torture was finished, Z was allowed to take a few moments for himself. That was one of the good things about hell. In the midst of all the horror, at least Satan always let you take some personal space to try and get your head together. And Z needed it.
I gotta stop thinking about time altogether, thought Z. It’s such a waste. I’m never going to have a sense of it again. I didn’t really care about it when I was alive. In fact, to tell the truth, I was very anti-time. I hated my birthday. Refused to celebrate it. Not because I was upset about getting older—it’s just that age meant nothing to me. I don’t even remember how old I was when I died, so why am I always thinking about time down here?
Was time a way to escape loneliness? Was time that companion one latched on to when no one else was there and there was nothing to look forward to, in the hopes it would eventually lead to someone or something? Z had even begun to hear a ticking in his inner ear. A ticking that sounded exactly like the ticking of the golden clock in Satan’s office. And as he thought about time, the ticking only got louder. Oh, shit, thought Z. That’s it. I’m starting to go crazy. Oh, great, this is all I need. To just go nuts in hell. Walking around here not having a sense of anything or anyone, especially myself. Just yammering on and on in my own brain about time and hearing all of this ticking. For all I know, I’m saying all this shit out loud right now. For all I know, I’m screaming all of this ramble rubble at the top of my lungs and everyone can hear it, and everyone’s laughing and thanking the heavens they’re not me.
He thought more about his time on the rack. Man, was it awful. Not only was it pain beyond all measure, but to make things worse the demon that stretched him kept calling him fat boy.
“No amount of stretching is too much for you, fat boy.”
“You might get longer but you’ll never be thinner, fat boy.”
“Better not stand too close to you so you don’t try and eat me, fat boy.”
I’m not fat, thought Z. In fact, I’m one of the skinniest people here. If I were fat, I actually wouldn’t mind so much being called fat boy. I get it that it would be a really effective way to emotionally torture me while they were physically torturing me. But I’m not fat, so more than offending me it’s just annoying. Frankly, I think it’s pretty lazy. Talk about zero creativity. A rack and fat jokes? What does it take to be a demon here?
Then all of a sudden Z’s thoughts were interrupted as he felt something licking his leg. He jumped, because who wouldn’t. He looked down and staring up at him was the absolute cutest dog he had ever seen. He couldn’t tell what breed it was. It was about forty-five pounds, and it looked like a combination of every dog that had ever existed.
Needless to say, this “every dog” immediately brightened Z’s mood.
Z couldn’t help but say hello.
“Hello there. I gotta tell you, you’re the cutest dog I’ve ever seen.”
And even though the dog couldn’t get any cuter, it did. Why? Because it spoke.
“Thank you so much.”
Wow, thought Z. As cute as this dog is, its voice is even cuter.
Much like the dog’s look was a combination of every dog, so was its voice the combination of every cute voice that ever was. It was the voice of a thousand of the cutest children of all cultures. Z couldn’t handle it. He wanted to hold it, squeeze it, and never let go.
Z bent down and gave the dog a great big hug.
The dog smiled. “That was a great hug. Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” replied Z. “I could hug you all day. I could make my job hugging you.”
“Oh, really?” said the dog. “Well, in that case, you’re hired.”
“Wow. Best job I’ve ever had. You better believe that now I’ve punched in, I’m never punching out.”
This was wild. Z had never said such corny things before. But, at the same time, his corny words didn’t feel corny at all. They felt like the clearest, most untainted expression of joy. The dog had unlocked something in him he had never experienced before. He felt like he would never be sad again. Everything made complete sense. Even awful things felt inspiring and beautiful.
Z started to cry. The dog licked Z’s tears. “Why are you crying? Did I do something to make you sad?”
Z stroked the dog’s chest. “On the contrary. You’ve done the opposite. I’ve never felt so good. These are happy tears. And I’ve had happy tears before, but never like this. These tears are like a joy waterfall. Does that sound dumb?”
“Of course not.” The dog laughed. “A joy waterfall. I love that. I love it so much I want to play in it.”
The dog then started to dance under Z’s tear-flowing face. He ran in and out of the falling tears, all the while ecstatically screaming, “I’m a rain dancer! I’m a rain doggy dancer!”
Watching the dog dance like this in his happy tears only made Z cry more, and more, and even more until he was up to his knees in his own saline. Z’s tears reminded him of the tears God shed before they sent him to hell. But Z’s tears were different from God’s. God’s crying had almost made crying seem evil and selfish. He still couldn’t believe what an insecure mess God was. But, again, Z’s tears were different. Z’s tears were an expression of something that in life he’d never allowed himself to express. Z’s tears made him feel that he was connected to everything that was beautiful. And Z was grateful. Grateful that his whole association with crying was being redeemed. And this gratitude made him cry even more. The water was now up to his waist, and the dog started to swim. And not just doggy-paddle. Breaststroke! Backstroke! The whole nine yards of classic swim forms. The dog was an expert swimmer.
“Come with me! Come with me!” said the dog as he swam from Z. Z did what his new best friend commanded and followed the adorable pooch to higher ground. And from this point he and the dog watched as, from the bright blue pool of tears, the most beautiful and majestic bright blue whale emerged.
The whale towered over them. It was so enormous that at first Z was a little scared, but when he saw the look of joy on the dog’s face, he knew the whale was a friend, too, and as it stood tall before them, the whale started to sing. It sang with a voice so operatically beautiful, it could end all wars. The whale sang and sang, and Z and the dog marveled as they embraced. Then as it finished its singing, the whale gave the two new best friends little kisses on the tips of their noses. And with that, it sang one final perfect note as it sank slowly back into the lake of Z’s happy tears. The tears then drained and the ground that had once been black with soot now shined with gold. Gold that lit up Z and the dog’s faces, turning them both into the cutest little rays of sunshine.
Z hugged the dog again. The dog gave Z a big lick on the cheek.
“Feel better?” asked the dog.
“So much better. The best better ever!” Z exclaimed.
The dog then sat down on its hind legs and gave Z the most loving look Z had ever received.
“That’s good,” said the dog. “I’m glad you don’t feel so distraught anymore. Now, do me a favor. Can you do me a favor?”
“For you? Anything,” said Z. “What is it?”
“I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember me always. Because from this day forward, you will never see me again, and no one will ever again make you feel like I made you feel today. But at least you got this, right? Most people don’t even get this. You’re lucky. He likes you.”
With that, the dog stood back up on all fours and walked away.
Z’s whole body then crumpled down onto the hellish cold gravel. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move for what felt like two years. Or was it twenty?