Mr. Business Degree

Mr. Business Degree

George's wife had grown fat after pregnancy. The smooth, ebony thighs George had worshiped in high-school were now cellulitic and coarse. Their daughter, only three, was obese. When George told his wife that it wasn't good for their daughter to be so overweight, she responded:

"Oh, what do you know Mr. Business Degree?"

At this stabbing remark, George felt a lump climb up his throat and, not wanting to scare his daughter, ran out the front door. As he stomped down his driveway, George cursed his parents for making him major in business; he cursed his wife for becoming fat and dense and cruel after their marriage, and he cursed himself for not having the spine to simply make the decisions he deep-down knew he should make. Then, after a hipster in a Prius slammed into George going 50 in a residential area, killing him instantly, George's dislodged spirit cursed itself for not looking both ways before it crossed the god-dammed road. And as George's soul was being lifted out of its crumpled, bleeding shell by the hand of a radiant human form, he cursed cursed himself for his militant atheism these past 30 years. 

"Are you God?" George asked the light.

"Yes," the light responded, in a deep voice.

"Am I dead?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?" The light paused.

"No."

"No?"

"No," the light repeated.

"What do you mean, no?"

"No. The answer to the question of why you are dead is no," the light said, sounding rather impatient.

"Oh," George's brow furrowed, "Am I going to heaven?"

"Again, no. Come with me."

The light put its palm on George's shoulder. Suburbia melted away to reveal cloud underneath, above, and as far as George could see in every compass direction. The clouds above were corpuscular, the clouds below were firm and opaque.

"Where are we?" George asked.

"Where do you think we are?"

"Heaven."

"Are you thick?" the light asked, "I already told you weren't going to heaven."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Nevermind it. This is where we take the souls who still have bodies we can put them back into."

"I can go back?" George's eyes widened.

"Yes. But listen to the alternative first," the light cleared its throat, "With ease, I can put you back into your body. You will resume life as it was ten minutes before your death, with no recollection of me or the accident or anything."

"Okay..."

"But there is another option. Your daughter is in no small danger, as you know. She is tragically overweight, and your wife is doing irreparable damage to her mind. She should be outside, running, exploring, learning. You know all this."

"Yes," George nodded solemnly.

"So here is my offer. I can kill your wife."

"No!" George gasped.

"Ah, ah. Listen. I can kill your wife, but I can save your daughter. It's true, your daughter will grow up an orphan. But I can embed in her your love for science early enough so that she can pursue it with natural ease as she grows. But to do this you will have to be erased. It's the only way."

George thought about it for a few moments. "Will it hurt?"

"Will what hurt?"

"Being erased."

"Not at all. You will fall asleep on that pedestal over there..." The light motioned with its head to the left, towards a raised cloud bed, "...and fall asleep forever. I can assure you there's no pain involved."

"And will my wife's death hurt?"

"Assuredly not. She will die in a way similar to you--in bed, in peace."

"Will she be erased?"

"No."

"Will she know of my decision?"

"Yes."

George looked up at the light shining through the clouds. In his head he saw his obese wife and daughter, sitting together on the couch, irradiated by the television's anemic light, eating from a box of pop-ems. They were watching a show called Catty Housewifes of the Midwest. It wasn't a hard decision, but something still didn't quite make sense to George.

"I don't understand. If you're real, if heaven is real, what's the point of studying science? Why would I want my daughter to study something I know is wrong?"

"When you were alive, did you know science was right?"

"I mean it worked...you know, it predicted things. So I thought it was at least on the right track..."

"And indeed it is." the light said.

George smiled. "Then I know what I want to do" he said. "I reject your options and propose a third. Give my daughter a choice. Visit her in a dream when she's ready and show her all the possible life-paths she can walk down. Let her pick the one that makes her the happiest."

"I can't do that, George." the light said.

"Why not? You’re God…” George protested.

"Because that was not an option. And because as a general rule I don't grant prophetic visions to humans. But your idea is noble nonetheless. I'll tell you what. I will give your daughter the means by which she can discover what she loves. I’ll let her go down a thousand roads before she chooses her own. I can do this. But because you are not a God, I will not tell you how."

"Will I still be erased?" George asked.

"Yes."

"And will my wife still be killed?"

"That I cannot answer." the light said.

George thought about it for a few moments and said. "Do it".

And it was done, before George could reconsider. He lost consciousness, and his spirit fell to the cloud floor. The light leaned down and picked it up easily, the paltry thing that it was, and dropped it onto the cloud-bed, which subsumed it upon contact.

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