{"id":2602,"date":"2015-08-05T03:24:56","date_gmt":"2015-08-05T08:24:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/?p=2602"},"modified":"2020-09-05T03:56:25","modified_gmt":"2020-09-05T08:56:25","slug":"fiction-ticket-to-heaven","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/fiction-ticket-to-heaven\/","title":{"rendered":"Ticket to Heaven"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Ticket<\/a><\/p>\n

Original Fiction by<\/h5>\n

Bria Burton<\/a><\/h3>\n
\n

T<\/span> he old man dressed like a silent film star: black and white suit, shiny shoes, a cane, and even a top hat. The hat sat on the bench and the cane leaned against the back of it. His head of curly white hair moved like a Bobblehead doll.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cTickets! Get your tickets to heaven!\u201d he shouted from beneath his full white beard.<\/p>\n

I groaned. Like this city needed another nutcase. The seedy parts of town were practically the whole town now. Fed up with cokeheads, needlers, and meth mouths, decent citizens shifted until moving away. Most of those remaining who weren\u2019t users did the selling.<\/p>\n

Sure, I used. My habit didn\u2019t affect my day-to-day life, though. I wasn\u2019t one to flaunt my enjoyment of something that others grew to depend on, so I didn\u2019t use around people with addiction problems. I could handle my coke habit.<\/p>\n

This guy had to be on something. Not meth. He had pearly teeth. Probably wore the suit jacket because tracks lined the inside of his arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I mention these tickets are free?\u201d he said as I passed by.<\/p>\n

I stopped in front of him, stared without embarrassment, and dropped my book bag on the concrete. It was getting heavy.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d He looked straight at me. \u201cThese are tickets to heaven and they are free. All you have to do is take one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d I tried to feign excitement, but it came out sarcastic. \u201cWhat\u2019s the catch, old man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCatch?\u201d He guffawed. \u201cNo catch. I hand out tickets to anyone willing to take one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, I accept.\u201d I kept a straight face.<\/p>\n

He snapped his fingers. \u201cYou seem like the kind of person who wants to know where she\u2019s going when she dies.\u201d<\/p>\n

So this was the catch. I had to listen to this old guy preach. \u201cUh-huh. Sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere you are, miss. Your ticket to heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at the laminated postcard he delivered into my hand. In gold letters at the top, One Way Ticket To Heaven<\/em> was written in calligraphy. Below it read, This ticket is not refundable, for once given, it shall always exist as the holder\u2019s ticket even if lost, stolen, or destroyed.<\/em> At the very bottom, John 3:16<\/em> was written in red block lettering. I knew that was from the Bible, but didn\u2019t know what it said. Stuff like that didn\u2019t interest nor stick with me.<\/p>\n

I flashed him a peace sign and went on my way.<\/p>\n

Oddly, I did feel a little different, like I\u2019d gained an extra spring in my step. My backpack seemed lighter. Even if I didn\u2019t think this was a ticket to heaven\u2014as if such a thing existed and was handed out by crazy old men near college campuses\u2014I had a sense of security, the idea that I need not fear death. Why? Because I could always say, \u201cYou can take my life, but you can\u2019t take away my ticket!\u201d<\/p>\n

That moment lasted from that stretch of sidewalk where I\u2019d met the old man to the house on the corner of 8th<\/sup> and Main. I walked up the porch steps to the door. Everyone inside enjoyed a snort or two daily. Me? Three days a week at most.<\/p>\n

Standing there, ticket in hand, the strangest thing happened. Something like a knot twisted up my intestines while I looked between those gold letters and the doorknob. Could I have fallen prey to the old guy\u2019s lunacy? People like him think they\u2019re doing the world good, but most of the time, they\u2019re nuttier than the heavy addicts I knew with wild, shifty eyes.<\/p>\n

But nothing about him appeared vindictive or deceitful. He really believed he had tickets to heaven. And why not? Who says who gets to go to heaven and who doesn\u2019t? Why not this old man who seemed to want everybody to go?<\/p>\n

I knocked twice, paused, and knocked twice again so they\u2019d know it was me.<\/p>\n

Dwayne answered the door and gave me the once-over. You\u2019d think I was a stranger the way he examined me.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I come in or what?\u201d I asked, impatient for my fix.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou seem different.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDifferent than what?\u201d I snapped.<\/p>\n

He gave me one of those, \u201cGirl, don\u2019t mess with your dealer,\u201d looks.<\/p>\n

I turned on the charm, gave him a smile, and flashed a wad of cash. \u201cThis familiar?\u201d<\/p>\n

He finally let me in. Like walking through an invisible wall, I hit the cigarette smell. At the moment, no one smoked inside, but enough people had over the years to give the place a permanent odor. A few familiar faces lounged on the back porch, which I could see through the window.<\/p>\n

Dwayne handed me the stash while I handed him the cash. In the living room, I sat next to Ruby, the oldest woman I\u2019d ever seen come to this house. She must\u2019ve been eighty years old, or fifty years of hard partying. She wiped her nose.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mind if I do my lines here?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

She waved like she was on top of some float in a parade and didn\u2019t have a care in the world.<\/p>\n

I still had that ticket in my pocket, and decided to make it useful for more than sending souls to heaven. I placed it face down on the coffee table and used the credit card Ruby had in front of her to stack up two parallel white lines of pure cocaine.<\/p>\n

With a rolled dollar bill, I snorted each line, feeling instantly high and great and fantastic. No feeling ever came close.<\/p>\n

I glanced at Ruby, who still waved like she was a princess. She pointed with her non-waving hand toward the table.<\/p>\n

I looked down and froze. My ticket, now free of white powder, had more writing printed on the back.<\/p>\n

This ticket belongs to AMY HAYES.<\/strong><\/p>\n

My hands trembled. I was stunned, but must be seeing things.<\/p>\n

\u201cBetter not leave that here. Must be important if it has your name on it,\u201d said Ruby.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t hallucinating. But how did that old man know my name?<\/p>\n

I picked it up and examined both sides. Nothing changed on the front. It still listed all that crap about how losing it wouldn\u2019t matter. The red letters at the bottom jumped out at me again, and I had to know what it said.<\/p>\n

\u201cDwayne, you own a Bible?\u201d I hollered.<\/p>\n

He strode into the room. \u201cDo I own a Bible?\u201d He lost the don\u2019t-mess-with-the-dealer face and broke into laughter. \u201cGirl, I\u2019m Baptist. \u2018Course I got a Bible.\u201d<\/p>\n

From a shelf, he pulled out a thick book, and a mound of dust came with it.<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently, you haven\u2019t read it in a while,\u201d Ruby remarked.<\/p>\n

Dwayne glared at her while handing me the book.<\/p>\n

I flipped pages with no idea how to find any verses. The Bible was a lot longer than I thought.<\/p>\n

Dwayne crossed his arms, tapping his biceps with his fingers. \u201cWhat you trying to find?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJohn 3:16.\u201d<\/p>\n

Between his lips, he blew out a pffft<\/em> sound. \u201cThat\u2019s the verse everybody learns when they are five.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked up at Dwayne, annoyed by his know-it-all smirk. \u201cFine.\u201d I smacked the dusty Bible shut to emphasize Ruby\u2019s point. A tiny mushroom cloud erupted from it. \u201cWhat does it say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. So whoever believes in him will not die but have eternal life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerish,\u201d Ruby said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s perish, not die.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSame thing. Whatever, Ruby. You done? Then you can go.\u201d Dwayne aimed his fist at the door.<\/p>\n

She raised her thin arms. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean anything by it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDwayne, what does this say?\u201d I interrupted with the ticket\u2019s backside facing him. I wanted to make sure high Ruby and I weren\u2019t having the same hallucination.<\/p>\n

He squinted. \u201cIt says, \u2018This ticket belongs to AMY HAYES.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

I lowered my arm. \u201cThat\u2019s what I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I marched back up to that old man, still up to his mischief. It was all I could do not to punch him in the nose. \u201cExcuse you,\u201d I said, my finger in his face and my nail very close to his eye.<\/p>\n

He stepped back and his eyes brightened. \u201cHello, again! Would you like to sit and talk?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! I want to stand here and ask what you think you\u2019re doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m handing out tickets to heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight, yeah. Got that.\u201d I flicked my ticket against his forehead.<\/p>\n

He flinched, dropping his smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is this doing with my name on it?\u201d<\/p>\n

His next reaction surprised me because I didn\u2019t think anything could bring that fake smile and twinkle in his eye back so quickly. \u201cIt\u2019s your<\/em> ticket. You accepted it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I mean, yes. I took this pre-printed ticket from you, but how would you know my name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

I ignored that lie. \u201cHow would you even know I\u2019d take it? I wasn\u2019t going to at first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally,\u201d he insisted. \u201cI didn\u2019t know your name before I just read it on the ticket. I didn\u2019t know if you\u2019d take it or not, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

I dropped my book bag, tapping my foot impatiently. \u201cYou\u2019re telling me these aren\u2019t all pre-printed with names on the back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee for yourself.\u201d He handed me the stack.<\/p>\n

I flipped through them, examining a few closely. They all looked the same as my ticket on the front. But on the back, each one had the words This ticket belongs to<\/em> and a blank space.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you given anyone besides me a ticket?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. I gave that fellow one just a minute ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

I followed where he pointed with his cane. A guy wearing a black jacket and jeans strolled some fifty yards away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou stay right here,\u201d I ordered and ran to intercept him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing!\u201d the old man hollered.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me!\u201d I waved.<\/p>\n

The guy glanced back over his shoulder. \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

Whoa, he was hot. I stopped jogging and walked up next to him. \u201cHi. Sorry, you don\u2019t know me,\u201d I panted, catching my breath. Some incendiary cologne scent wafted around him that made me want to kiss him on the mouth. \u201cI took a ticket to heaven from that psycho over there. For some creepy reason, my name is on the back.\u201d I showed him the front, and then flipped it.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh.\u201d He looked amused and pulled his ticket out of his pocket. When he turned it over, his jaw dropped. \u201cOkay, that is<\/em> creepy.\u201d He held it up for me.<\/p>\n

This ticket belongs to MAXWELL MAVENWOOD.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I bit my lip. \u201cYour name is Maxwell Mavenwood?\u201d<\/p>\n

His face flushed. \u201cI go by Michael, my middle name.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maxwell Michael Mavenwood. He must\u2019ve had dumb parents.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what\u2019s the gag?\u201d he asked. \u201cDid he pay you to make the trick seem real?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPay me? No! I don\u2019t even know him. I took it as a joke. He was so sincere and pathetic and I sorta wanted to believe it could be a ticket to heaven, but then I saw my name and it freaked me out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re in Dr. Linton\u2019s sociology course together.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared but didn\u2019t recognize him. It was a big class. \u201cSorry. I didn\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sure. I guess you\u2019ve had your laugh with Grandpa or whoever. Tell him I don\u2019t get the joke, but I\u2019m glad to provide amusement for you two.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m at the butt of the joke, too. I just had to know if anyone else\u2019s name was on their ticket. Now I know so I\u2019ll just leave.\u201d I stumbled away, the good feelings from the drugs fading fast. A bad sign. This Maxwell Michael Mavenwood, whom I now thought of as M3, along with the old fart, managed to ruin my high.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t care what else he had to say, so I kept walking.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d He was right at my shoulder, and he touched it.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet off.\u201d I shoved his hand, which was, I admit, unnecessary.<\/p>\n

He held up his arms in surrender. \u201cI\u2019m not trying to hurt you. I want to know if you\u2019re being honest with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould a liar tell you if they\u2019re lying?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess not. But if you don\u2019t know him, why are you going back over?\u201d<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t noticed where I was going, but I knew why. \u201cI need my backpack. And answers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I come?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I will.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n

We approached the old fool together. \u201cHello!\u201d His stupid smile was so genuine. \u201cNice to see you both again. Do you know each other?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was about to ask you the same question.\u201d M3 was getting on my nerves.<\/p>\n

\u201cI met Amy a half hour before I met you, Michael.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally<\/em>.\u201d I shot M3 a warning glare. Not sure what I would do, but I wanted him to wonder. \u201cAre you going to explain how this works?\u201d I waved my hand over the ticket stack. \u201cHow do the names suddenly pop up on the back?\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man picked up his top hat, tipped it, and put it on. \u201cThey become your tickets when you accept them.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared, waiting for more. \u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man looked confused.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it\u2019s some card trick, bravo,\u201d I said. \u201cJust tell us that\u2019s what it is. You don\u2019t have to say how you did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I didn\u2019t do it. I only hand them out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen who puts the names there? God?\u201d M3 didn\u2019t sound sarcastic. More like he genuinely thought God was a possible option here.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. God does that part.\u201d<\/p>\n

I glanced at M3. He looked pensive and seemed more patient than I was.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen, old man, I only took one to mess with you,\u201d I said. \u201cTherefore, why would God print my name on it? If he\u2019s God, he would know I didn\u2019t really believe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you believed long enough for your name to appear. But it\u2019s a good question to ask God himself.\u201d He smiled as if this was the easiest of all my queries.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you talk to God?\u201d M3 motioned toward the bench. The two of them sat.<\/p>\n

I rolled my eyes. I wasn\u2019t going to stay long enough to need a seat.<\/p>\n

Nutcase took off his hat again. \u201cSure. I can talk to him for hours, and he listens.\u201d<\/p>\n

The student nodded patronizingly.<\/p>\n

This was giving me a headache. \u201cAre you for real? No one spends hours talking to God. Why would they? It\u2019s not like he answers back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe does. Just look at your card.\u201d<\/p>\n

I reflexively glanced down at my hand, my name staring back at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s no parlor trick. You accepted a free gift from God, and now your name is on it claiming ownership of the ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what if I didn\u2019t mean it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is tricky.\u201d The old man tapped his cane on the concrete. \u201cFrom my understanding, once the gift is accepted, there\u2019s no returning it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t want a free ticket to heaven?\u201d M3 now smiled the same silly grin as the old man. But his was steamy and made my knees weak. Still, I didn\u2019t want any of this rubbing off on me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to go to heaven like anybody else. It\u2019s just a dumb idea that you have to have a ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on,\u201d I said. \u201cWere you serious when you took it? Didn\u2019t you just want this old guy to stop talking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHonestly, I was serious,\u201d M3 admitted. \u201cThat\u2019s why I got so defensive when I thought you two were laughing at me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned to the old man. \u201cYou are just one person in one city on one street in the entire world where billions of people live. How are you supposed to make sure everyone gets a chance to accept one of your tickets?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI make sure I ask every person I see.\u201d He seemed proud of his persistence.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see what Amy means,\u201d said M3. \u201cAre there a bunch of you guys all over the world? Like the Gideons? Maybe the Heavenly Ticket Holders?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa!\u201d The old man chuckled heartily. \u201cI spend a lot of time talking to God. He really does respond. The more time I spend with him, the more I know him and can differentiate what is just a thought in my head. Sometimes he speaks through other people, sometimes through the Bible. There are many ways God speaks to us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Get to the point, I wanted to say.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo years ago, I heard his voice. It doesn\u2019t happen often, but boy, I paid attention. He told me to go out and spread the news about eternal life through his Son. I decided to pass out the tickets as a conversation starter. In the morning, I make the tickets, asking God to show me where I should hand them out. I\u2019ve been to several different areas in this city and others.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe shows you?\u201d I asked, still skeptical.<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes I read the paper and see cities overrun with drugs and poverty, and I sense God wants me to go there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s most places,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are more difficulties for people than ever before. I saw an article about the high rate of drug overdoses in this area, and I knew this was where God wanted me today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Did he know about my habit? Everybody did drugs. The trick was finding someone who didn\u2019t. M3 looked like a straight edge, but most likely he smoked pot or did some other casual drug.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou print these yourself?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI designed them, but a shop near my house prints them. At first, I didn\u2019t know that God sometimes fills in the names. A place to write your name seemed like a nice way for someone to make it their own. For some, like you two, God does that for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis has been helpful. Thank you.\u201d M3 shook hands with the old man. \u201cWill you be here tomorrow? I\u2019d like to talk more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be wonderful. I\u2019ll be at the north side of town near the mall\u2019s food court entrance.\u201d<\/p>\n

As M3 walked away, he waved.<\/p>\n

I gave a polite wave back. Did he really buy what the old man was saying? Had it all been a joke on me?<\/p>\n

\u201cWon\u2019t you sit a moment? I can tell there\u2019s more on your mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

He patted the seat, reminding me of my grandpa. When I was little, he coaxed me to sit beside him the same way and told me funny stories. That was before drugs and boys and all things complicated.<\/p>\n

I dragged my backpack over, sat, and stared after Michael. He had a nice backside.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou seem uneasy about what I\u2019m doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

You think? \u201cI just don\u2019t understand. It\u2019s so far fetched.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about all the truths of my existence. It would make one juicy and disturbing novel.<\/p>\n

So many questions piled quickly in my mind. How would everyone on earth find out about Jesus? What about those who lived in the Amazon jungles and had no contact with outsiders? Except that wasn\u2019t my excuse. I had a choice whether to accept or reject what this old guy said. When I died and stood before God, if he was real, I couldn\u2019t say that no one had told me. For a moment, I guess I had believed it was a ticket to heaven, causing my name to appear. But my doubts remained. \u201cLook, I want to know if this thing I\u2019m holding is real. Yes, it\u2019s a real laminated piece of paper, but is it really a ticket to heaven? I can\u2019t bring myself to believe\u2014as much as I want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s stopping you?\u201d His expression turned eager as he made a gesture of questioning with both palms raised.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve seen too much. The real things in this world are usually the dark and ugly things that you wish weren\u2019t real. Stuff like this is fantasy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is darkness in this world. No doubt.\u201d He raised his finger, pointing toward the heaven I desperately wanted to believe in. \u201cThere is also light. It is real, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI get it. Jesus is the light, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you didn\u2019t hand out tickets, but just told me about Jesus, all I would have to do is say that I believe he died for the sins of the world after his perfect life and then rose from the dead, and that means I\u2019ll go to heaven when I die?\u201d It sounded so simple, yet there was also something profound about it. I didn\u2019t have to be perfect to get into heaven because Jesus was, even dying for all the bad things I did.<\/p>\n

\u201cPrecisely!\u201d The old man smiled. \u201cThe ticket is merely a symbol. It\u2019s something tangible to grab onto. I never imagined God would perform a miracle with them, but he must know that\u2019s what some people need in order to help them believe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Was it really that easy? \u201cWouldn\u2019t I have to give up things I really like to do?\u201d Like my habit?<\/p>\n

\u201cDid God tell you that? Or did you tell yourself that? In fact, God has the opposite message in the Bible. He wants you to come to him just as you are. It really is a free gift, this ticket. No catch, no gag, no strings. Now, if you decided to ask God how you should live the rest of your life until you go to heaven, he might have something to say about cocaine use, for example, but that\u2019s because he wants you to live a long, healthy, and blessed life. Just like a loving parent would. He wouldn\u2019t have you miss out on all the wonderful things he has for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes widened. \u201cHow did you know?\u201d Was God telling him all my secrets?<\/p>\n

\u201cKnow what?\u201d He tilted his head, acting ignorant.<\/p>\n

I clamped my mouth shut, suddenly irritated. \u201cI guess it\u2019s pointless to ask. God told you, fine. It\u2019s not like I\u2019m an addict. It\u2019s totally casual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d He leaned back, nodding. \u201cI was speaking hypothetically. But following that topic, you could choose to live just how you are living now until the day you die, and he will never revoke the ticket. He promised that. Some people say it must mean the person never accepted God\u2019s free gift if there is no evidence that Jesus changed them, but I\u2019d rather not attempt to judge people like that. If you truly accept Jesus into your heart, it\u2019s between you and God how you behave while you\u2019re on this earth. However, there are consequences to bad behavior.\u201d<\/p>\n

Like an out-of-body experience, I saw myself sitting on that bench talking to the old man in the suit. Was it the drugs? I didn\u2019t think so. I felt like something else was watching me and drawing me closer. God, maybe? Jesus himself? It wasn\u2019t like me to concede to other people\u2019s theories, but seeing my name miraculously appear on a ticket to heaven really affected me. More than I even knew how to explain. I stared at the postcard, at my name, and realized that I wanted to make it a reality.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. I\u2019m not promising anything. I\u2019m not one to follow rules easily, so God has his work cut out for him if he wants me to give up coke. But I\u2019d like to go to heaven, and I believe Jesus is the ticket, so I accept him.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man parted his lips, widening them into a genuine grin of happiness. A glistening tear formed and rolled down his cheek, caught in his beard. Then he hugged me. I let him. It felt like hugging my grandpa. His beard tickled my neck.<\/p>\n

He leaned back, holding my shoulders. \u201cAmy, welcome to the family of God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I\u2019d like to say that my heart changed instantly and that I gave up cocaine the next day. But that wouldn\u2019t be true. However, I did get clean six months later, which was a miracle in and of itself. Probably a greater miracle than my name appearing on the ticket. I never knew how dependent I really was until I tried to stop.<\/p>\n

Max helped me get through it. He lets me call him Max even though everyone else calls him Michael. He didn\u2019t care much for M3 when I said it to his face.<\/p>\n

At first, he seemed like nothing more than eye candy. But he and I have a lot in common. He quit smoking pot (called it!). Only took him a week. He\u2019s got a good sense of humor, and I appreciate his logical personality. He\u2019s a good kisser, as expected, and he\u2019s extremely kind. Like, chivalrous, and I didn\u2019t realize how much I would enjoy that. We started officially dating a couple of weeks ago, now that I\u2019m clean. That was my rule. We went together to the church Dwayne mentioned. Bad experience. No wonder Dwayne only goes on Christmas and Easter. Nobody talked to us. They passed the offering plate over our row three times, and each time we passed it back without adding to it. The usher started turning red, and I couldn\u2019t help bursting out laughing. I\u2019m surprised they didn\u2019t ask us to leave. The fire and brimstone crap really didn\u2019t work for me, so we won\u2019t be going there again. We had a good laugh, at least. We\u2019re visiting Gabriel\u2019s church next Sunday. That\u2019s the old man\u2019s name. We have lunch with him once a week.<\/p>\n

I often ask God why he put my name on that ticket when I hadn\u2019t fully believed yet. He hasn\u2019t answered me, but I\u2019m following Gabriel\u2019s example and keeping the lines open.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\n

Bria Burton\u2019s<\/strong> speculative fiction has been featured in anthologies such as Welcome to the Future<\/em> and magazines such as The Colored Lens<\/em>. She leads the FWA (Florida Writers Association) St. Petersburg Writers Group, a critique group, and serves as an FWA Board member. At St. Pete Running Company, she\u2019s employed as a blogger. Her website is www.briaburton.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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