The Damned Rain
“Joseph McAllister step forward,” orders a giant of a man from behind a desk of solid white marble.
“That’s me, sir,” replies an average looking man with mid-length hair and a scruffy face. He sticks out from the surrounding environment, due to the simplistic fact everything else is white, while he wears a gray jogging suit with green stripes. Even the giant behind the desk wears a white shroud. The man looks around in wonder to find no one else.
“Are you aware as to what has happened to you?” asks the giant as he looks to Joseph.
“Not really,” he quietly replies. With this answer the giant flips the great book before him open.
“Joseph McAllister you are dead. You have been in limbo for what you’d call eight months, while your life was reviewed to determine you eternal residence,” he explains.
“Wow, eight months. I guess the correctional system is slow no matter where you go,” Joseph comments with a chuckle. The giant upon hearing his levity slams his closed fist upon the marble filling the white space with a sound that can only be described as a tremendous thunderclap. Joseph’s attention is instantly redirected by this violent action.
“This is no laughing matter!” yells the giant in a booming voice.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” he asks in a softer voice then before.
“It is a record of what you’d call your pathetic existence,” he responds.
“So where am I now?” he asks.
“You are in the Court of Morality. I am known by many names, but you may call me Yanluo Wang, overseer of judgment of souls and decider as to their eternal placement. You are here because of certain issues surrounding your death. However, you are also here to plea your justification on this life you lead of grave misdeeds,” answers Yanluo. “Are you fully understanding of your situation? So we may begin your inquest?”
“Yes,” he answers back solemnly.
“Good, I’ve got fifteen thousand to review and they are never-ending,” comments Yanluo. He flips to the front of Joseph's book. “At the age of five, you pushed and struck nearly two dozen of your peers. The total number of physical assaults committed at this age stops at twenty-three. How do you argue these facts?” questions Yanluo.
“Huh?” Joseph says, forcing a short pause of shocked surprise. “I was five years old. I mean I was a little kid.”
“You were morally of age to know the difference of right and wrong,” he argues back to the dumbfounded man.
“But what does that have to do with the latter part of my life?” Joseph counters. “Everyone misbehaves when they’re young, that’s the whole point. To screw-up and learn from it.”
“That’s the gravity of these earlier transgressions. You never did learn from them and they worsened as you grew ever older,” retorts Yanluo. “When you were fourteen, this was a big time of growth for you. We’ll skip the lesser marks and focus on the big ones.” Joseph shifts his feet in his telling sign of nervousness. “You committed, with assistance, thirteen robberies within this year. You followed up by committing your first act of rape, which you continued to commit regularly for the remaining course of your wicked life. Do you wish to refute any of these charges?”
“Would there be any point?” asks Joseph with a brisk scoff.
“No,” Yanluo replies. Joseph doesn’t speak, simply shakes his head in reply to the previous question directed to him.
“Very well. Let’s move on to when you were twenty-three. This one is filled by twenty-seven robberies, nineteen acts of violent rape, and a pyramid scheme where you stole fifty thousand dollars from poor old ladies. That was quite a proud year for you. The next twenty-two years follows in much the same way,” he states. This is followed with a pause to see if Joseph wishes to make any comments. Joseph stands before the marble table and makes not a sound. Yanluo once more continues the inquest of Joseph McAllister.
“This inquest has nearly reached a verdict, but there are a few remaining issues to cover,” explains Yanluo. “The first is a discrepancy within the merits of your death. You died, while shoving a middle-aged woman out of oncoming traffic. In turn, out of this action the semi-truck struck, killing you, not her. This last act of self-sacrifice counters your lifetime of misdeeds. This action qualifies you to enter the gates into the kingdom of the heavenly hereafter. The question has been raised if there may have been another reason as to why you committed such a selfless act? While you’ve been here, I have taken the liberty to search your thoughts for this very answer and found one I have.”
“You cannot do that!” exclaims Joseph with worry filling his face. Yanluo does not speak. He simply bangs his closed fist once more on the marble table, silencing Joseph’s outburst.
“Upon searching your thoughts I’ve recalled said memory. In it I have found the true reason you saved her life,” says Yanluo. “You were running from a couple of shady men whom you owed a long overdue debt. You did not see her or the semi before accidentally bumping into her knocking her from off the path of the barreling semi-truck. Therefore, my ruling on this incident is not one of self-sacrifice, but of self-preservation. You have no concern for any life, but that of your own. You ended your existence as you lived it, selfishly. At this time do you have anything further to add before placement is set?” On this final address to the condemned soul Yanluo goes silent in quiet wait for him say his peace.
“You pass judgment over me! Yet you’ve not lived how I have lived. I have lived helpless, homeless, alone, treated by others with malice, and I have been an outcast my whole life. Forcefully, denied even the slightest ounce of society’s happiness. You call my actions misdeeds? I call them survival. Pass your verdict. I don’t care anymore. There, that’s my final plea. Now let’s get on with it,” Joseph passionately replies. He waits in a silent stare as Yanluo enters Joseph’s final speech into the book. Joseph knows whatever decision is made he’ll deal with it as he’s dealt with life.
“It is the verdict of the Court of Morality that you -- Joseph McAllister -- are to be sentenced to an eternity of helping the very life from, which you’ve taken so very much. You’re spiritual entity shall be transformed into fifty thousand raindrops. Your sole purpose will be to bring life to the lifeless, give hope where hope is lost, and give endlessly without ever taking for yourself. This shall be your eternal penance for a life of selfishness and greed. Now, be gone Joseph McAllister!” orders Yanluo as he sends the man from the room with a wave of his mighty hand.
Directly following Joseph’s eternal verdict many astral planes away from the Court of Morality. In a small farm town in the middle of Kansas a rain begins to fall from a cloud seemingly appearing from out of thin air. The rain starts out slow at first, but gradually picks up until the sky is filled with clear drops of liquid life ending the worst drought in the state’s history for two decades.