Suzanne Guldimann is an author, artist, and musician who lives in Malibu and loves the Santa Monica Mountains. She has worked as a journalist reporting…
Little blue-eyed boy couldn’t wait to get to Heaven;
Late at night he dreamt of pearly gates that held silky clouds, and waterfalls of happiness.
One day he went to play with the redheaded girl next-door. They were rising and falling on the seesaw as they talked about dandelion wishes, sugar cookies and the afterlife.
“What do you think Heaven will be like?” asked the little blue-eyed boy at the top of the seesaw to the redheaded girl who was sitting on the ground.
The redheaded girl who had never done wrong looked at him and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” she said, “I’m going to Hell.”
And the little boy’s blue eyes went wide as saucers, but he believed her. The redheaded girl who had never done wrong would never lie to him. And she had fire in her heart like the fire in her hair.
She looked at the blue-eyed boy and smiled. “Do you want some bubblegum?”
Years and years passed by as they often tend to do, and the little blue-eyed boy was now a blue-eyed man.
It had been a long time since he’d wished upon a dandelion or had sugar cookies or bubblegum but he still lived on that seesaw. Up and down every few months, happy then sad, safe then scared.
But the little blue-eyed boy who was now a blue-eyed man still dreamt of Heaven and its promise of never-ending warmth one day.
It felt like forever ago that he had known a redheaded girl who had never done wrong but was most certainly going to Hell because she would never lie to him. He often thought of her fire and wondered about her. Wondered if she had finally done something so terrible that would be her ticket to the Underworld.
The blue-eyed man felt bad for the redheaded girl he had known so many years before.
His heart sometimes ached for her grim destiny and his eyes sometimes spilled.
At the very very end of an up and down lifetime, an old glassy-eyed man went to sleep for the very last time.
He was finally guided by the warmth and the light up up to the sky, past the birds and planes. Up up to the clouds where he became the little blue-eyed boy again. From the corner of his eye he found the entrance from his dreams.
The light brought him to the shiny gates of Heaven which opened with easy, automatic acceptance. Little blue-eyed boy was greeted by an angel who handed him a questionnaire. He frowned in confusion and the angel explained.
“We’ve changed the rules,” they said, in a kind and sparkly voice. “It seems as though everyone has their own version of Heaven.”
The boy looked beyond the angel and saw the redheaded girl who had still never done wrong; setting fires with her eyes, on the seesaw with Satan in Heaven.
And he smiled.