The Five People You'd Like to Meet in Heaven: Episode 4

Act IV

Instead of leaving the room right away to alert the front desk that they can send in the next interviewee, I sit in my chair and wonder what the h--- just happened.

Unknown voice: You can't think that!

Startled, I jump to my feet and look around. No one. Jehoshaphat, I think. That scared the h--- out of me.

Unknown voice: You can't think that!

D--- it, where is that voice coming from?

Unknown voice: You can't think that!

I race out of the room. Holy Moses, Big Brother's here too. I finally arrive at the front booth. Charlie's still there. With a confused look, he says, "Um, why have you been running? You don't need to run here; this is heaven after all."

Me: I keep...hearing...a voice. I think something...or someone is...watching me. Reading...my thoughts. Scared...me."

Charlie: Oh, don't be scared about that. It's just your conscience.

Me: My...conscience? It's never been...it's never been that vocal before.

Charlie: Well, in heaven everyone's conscience is much louder. It's standard procedure to amplify your shoulder angel a little when you come here. It's also easier to hear because your shoulder devil isn't so loud.

Me: Is there anyway to decrease to the volume?

Charlie: (nods) Mm-hmm.

Me: How?

Charlie: You really want to know? I'll tell you the secret. (he leans close to my face and yells) STOP SAYING BAD WORDS! (then, smiling) So, how did your visit with The Rock go?

Me: The Rock didn't let me talk.

Charlie: I expected that. The Rock doesn't let anyone talk. The Big Guy is the only one who can actually say anything with The Rock around.

Me: I wish you'd told me.

Charlie: About what?

Me: That my interview with The Rock would be a waste of time.

Charlie: Look, if you haven't learned by now that making choices--and sometimes bad ones--is the only way to learn, then maybe you're in the wrong place. There's a spot for people who don't want to make choices and learn from consequences, and it's not heaven.

Me: Wait a minute. Learning? That was before, right? That was when I was alive. I'm done with that, right?

Charlie: You think so? Then let me teach you something right now: life was all preparation for heaven. You don't stop learning now just because you're dead.

Me: Oh.

Charlie: Now do you understand?

Me: I guess so.

Charlie: Good. Now, (he scans the list) who do you need to see now? Hmm. Okay, you want to see Yogi Berra? (chuckling) I'll get him for you. He'll need someone to make sure he makes it alright. He tends to get lost.

Me: In heaven? You can get lost in heaven?

Charlie: I don't, and most other people don't. But Yogi, well, Yogi's special. You'll never meet a kinder man, but he's almost completely devoid of common sense.

Me: Well, I guess I expected that.

Charlie: (nods) You want to know something? Over on Seraphim Boulevard, we put a fork in the road. It's the same idea I was telling you about just now. If the road turns into two, then people can choose which one they want to travel down and they'll learn from it. Robert Frost was actually the architect and foreman for that job.

Me: So what you're saying is, if all roads lead to Rome,  no one could ever get to decide if they want to go to Moscow.

Charlie: Exactly.

Me: I think I get it.

Charlie: Generally people are pretty good about choosing to walk down one street or the other. But Yogi, (chuckling) he takes the fork. Every time. Hops over the barrier and everything. Just wanders around until someone comes to find him.

Me: That's interesting, and yet, I am not surprised.

Charlie: Well, I'll go get him for you. I guarantee you'll have a good time with Yogi.


Twenty-two hundred years go by. Finally, Yogi Berra walks in, sweating.

Me: Yogi, why are you sweating? Heaven's air-conditioned; you shouldn't be sweating.

Yogi: It's not the heat, kid; it's the humility.

Me: Oh, gotcha.

Yogi: By the way, I can't stay and talk long. It gets late early in heaven.

Me: Well, I'll be quick.

Yogi: Say, do I know you? I mean, if I hadn't seen you I probably would never have recognized you.

Me: No, you don't know me.

Yogi: Are you sure? 'Cuz it felt like I was having deja-vu all over again. Were you at my funeral?

Me: Nope.

Yogi: That's probably why I didn't come to yours then. Oh, well. I make wrong mistakes all the time; guess this is just another one.

Me: It's alright, Yogi. Everyone looks like someone.

Yogi: Oh well, I'm not perfect after all, and if I were perfect, I wouldn't be.

Me: I'm not sure what that means.

Yogi: Neither do I. But you know something? You're the first person who ever told me that. Everyone else just sort of laughs and nods like they understand, even though I know they don't. I don't even understand ninety percent of the things I say, and the other half, well, I'm pretty sure I didn't say other half of the things I said.

Me: I'm honored.

Yogi: You should be. Now, do you have some questions for me?

Me: Just one.

Yogi: Go ahead and ask then. But I'll warn you: if you ask me anything I don't know, I'm not going to answer.

Me: Okay. My question is, What do you think of the Yankees now?

Yogi: You know, I wish I had an answer for that because I'm tired of answering that question.

Me: So you don't know?

Yogi: I think they've got deep depth.

Me: Anything else?

Yogi: Look, all I'm saying is, in baseball, you don't know nothing. Don't let anyone tell you different. Half the lies you hear aren't true.

Me: I'm lost.

Yogi: Well, you've got to be careful if you don't where you're going because you might not get there.

Me: So, in theory...

Yogi: There ain't no difference between theory and practice. In practice there is.

Me: So, you're just talking about practice? You and Allen Iverson must have a lot to talk about, I'm thinking.

Yogi: Thinking? How can you think and talk at the same time?

Me: (looking at my wrist, even though watch isn't there anymore) Yogi, I hate to rush you out but you've got to go home, and I need to chat with one more person before they give me the keys to my mansion.

Yogi: Already? But if he hadn't been talking so much, we might have had a conversation.

Me: Well, this is the way it's got to be.

Yogi: Can't I just stay in here for a while? Just until Will Ferrell stops hanging around outside? Every time he sees me, he starts talking like Harry Carey. It's embarassing. I try to get him to stop, but he's one of those people, if they don't already know, you can't tell them.

Me: No, Yogi, I think it would be better if you just went back.

Yogi: Please can I stay?

Me: No, this interview is over.

Yogi: But it ain't over till it's over.

Me: Trust me, Yogi. It's over.

Charlie walks in, takes Yogi by the arm, and leads him out of the room. Just before the door closes, I hear Yogi say, "Charlie, the future just ain't what it used to be."