I was walking a sidewalk on Palafox Street. It was dusk. I saw the kid walking toward me with a buddy. He wore a necktie, khakis, and backpack.
They were passing out flyers. I noticed him from a mile away. I tried to avoid him. But he nailed me.
The red letters on his paper flyer read: “Heaven or Hell?”
Then the kid said, “Do you know where you’re spending eternity, sir?” Then he told me all about the hot place where I would probably be going.
A fine howdy-do.
Things got quiet. I thought it was wise to keep my mouth shut, since no particularly sweet words were coming to mind.
The truth is, I can’t recall ever being told that I’m bound for Hell. In times past, however, certain people have suggested that I visit.
I wish I would’ve answered the kid, but he left before I had a chance to respond. So, on the off chance he’s reading this, I’m answering you now, friend.
For starters: I wish you would’ve asked me what I believed instead of where I’ll be staying after I kick the oxygen habit.
I would’ve enjoyed a question like that.
I would’ve told you that I believe in good things. Big things. Love, kindness, charity, compassion, and the Lonesome Dove miniseries starring Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones.
And:
I would’ve also told you about a bar fight I once saw as a young man. It happened in a beer joint in the sticks of South Alabama
A skinny kid and a large man resembling a gorilla were about to rip each other’s eyeballs out. A crowd circled around them, holding beer bottles, hollering.
I bet ten bucks on the big fella.
Before the fight began, an old man stepped between the boxers. He took one blow to the jaw.…