Heaven Lite

by Ann Davie

Approx 780 words

"What about Heaven Lite.half the sins, all of the glory? It'd be like a middle-class Heaven."

"Oh come on, David. Get real, will you?" With a barely perceptible wrinkling of his aquiline nose, the clergyman made his displeasure known. Crossing his slender legs, he took care to preserve the crease in his worn charcoal flannels.

"Well then, what about cutting a few mortal sins out of the list? I mean, really.everyone I know has a little on the side. And you guys are the masters at cutting deals. Say this many Hail Mary's for this, burn these many candles for that."

"That's the Catholic Church, David, and you know it. We Anglicans are different. And you'd know that if you ever bothered to step in church for anything other than a business associate's funeral."

"That's not fair. I did a wedding a few months back, and that was for a neighbor. But that's beside the point. The thing is, you just have to invent your own rules. You just need to update your dogma, that's all. You know, go with something a bit more fresh, positive, greed-affirming. More Deepak Chopra. Turtlenecks instead of dog collars. That kind of thing."

"I'm not even going to go down that road."

"Just trying to help, Padre." David knew this would get a rise out of his tight-assed brother and delighted in watching neck muscles tense and nostrils flare. He also knew he was most likely damned for disparaging a man of the cloth in such a way, but he had better things to do. Rather, he had money to make, and the Right Reverend Philip Lassiter, along with his feigned piety, was getting on his nerves.

"I don't know why I came here. All I asked for was a little aid, a helping hand, with planning our diocese fund-raiser. You're supposed to be the man with the connections, after all. And instead I get sarcastic marketing campaigns." Philip glanced out the window and stared at the fog encasing the towering building. He mused to himself that of all the people in the world, his brother David was the least likely to end up amongst the billowy clouds of Heaven.

"Phil, you came here because I can write a big check. You came here because your numbers have fallen off. You came here asking, no.begging me to call in all the chits I have on all the big names in town. The ones who no longer seem to find solace in your brand of worship. As the good book says, 'God helps those who help themselves.' And I think that's what most people are doing these days." David eased his belt a notch, mentally noting that he'd have to go with the lady's cut next time he did a three scotch lunch at his club.

"You remember when we were in high school band? You were something like eighth chair trumpet. I was first chair clarinet. I could never figure out why the bandmaster took a shine to you. I worked my butt off. You seemed to slide through on your mediocrity. It was because you could sell more of those horrible boxes of candy than anyone else. I believed in the music. You believed in yourself. You don't know how many times I wished it were the other way around."

Phillip ran his hand over his head and then tugged at his left ear, a nervous gesture he could never escape and one that usually provided a cue for further digs.

David opened his mouth, about to speak, but stopped. The last time they'd shared more than superficial banter had been over twelve years ago at their mother's funeral. But now, with the business end of life within sight, David knew that they were most likely destined to become more selfish and further tied to the trappings of their respective paths.

David looked directly at his brother and noticed, for what seemed like the first time, the gaunt sadness painted in the deep brown eyes. He fiddled with a dial to the side of his desk, increasing the temperature a few degrees. He'd always found that a cold office made for short visits. But now all he wanted was to take the bone-chilling grayness away. A light drizzle stung the expanse of glass behind him and the building began to hum and moan as the wind picked up.

"Come on, Phil, we're going home. I think Cynthia has an address book full of women who need to balance their credit card debt with a little goodwill. And if I do say so myself, she's even better than me when it comes to the hard sell."