Прохор Озорнин: On the Wings of Hope: Prose

“You see, in calculations of quality of human souls we use absolute points of Light. Unlike the conventional financial points, which are being used in your physical world and have blinded so many souls of their adherents, we use the evolutionary measure that is not subject to time. Here, I will show you,” and with these words, the girl took a long printed-out sheet and gave it to Artem Sergeyevich. “Here, for example, your care for your family, – its worth was estimated to be equal to a hundred forty-five absolute points. It’s an average result because you have been very little engaged into education and upbringing of your children, having shifted these duties to your wife, and devoting the most part of your time to building a career. By the way, summed total results of your labor feats turned out to be equal to fifteen absolute points, – that’s a very small amount, because the social usefulness of your work, associated with the deception of people, wasn’t high at all, and in this job you didn’t show much diligence. And for the treason of your wife – performed twice, it worth noticing – you get minus forty-seven absolute points…”

“Wait a moment, wait a moment!” cried Artem Sergeyevich. “Why is it only fifteen points?! I am a Holy Father, believer, I turned people into your belief, led them to the Christ! What, have you decided to mock your loyal servants?!”

“Wait a moment, wait a moment!” laughed the accountant. “Why do you persist in calling yourself a saint? Saints by our criteria are those souls, whose balance exceeds ten thousand absolute points. And regarding the believer… you see, but due to those events, which have taken place many centuries after our Jesus arrival into your world, and your attitude towards him, we ceased to use that concept in our calculations. It was fair for the first Christians, but nowadays every idler is ready to beat breast and call himself a believer – and we don’t even speak of how many souls have been tortured, exhausted and corporally killed for the sake of that ‘belief’, and how many self-deceptions were made due to illusions of its presence.

Therefore, we no longer use your pseudo-belief in our calculations, we use the concept of ‘soul dignity’. Tell me, Artem Sergeyevich, is it worthy in your opinion to urge to kill gentiles?”

“I did no such things!” muttered our not-really-a-hero with rage.

“And how many times did you call your belief as the best ever existed, do you remember? And how did you publicly derided those, whom you called as atheists on your sermons, have you forgotten? And how proud you were of the power of your faith and your readiness to kill anyone to keep it strong, should I remind you? Why don’t you believe us now, when we are telling you about you? And your wish to a pedestrian, I quote – ‘Where the hell are you going? Rest in peace, walking creature!’ – which you have made exactly a day before parting with your body, when you were rushing inside your BMW through city streets and have nearly brought him down, costed you, for example, minus five absolute points. Here, you can check it all by yourself. Everything is measured correctly.”

“Why do prayers for souls of our parishioners have a negative value, aye?” Artem Sergeyevich continued to be angry while reading an estimation sheet, issued to him.

“Because you demanded from our Supreme Commander, whom you traditionally call as the God, to add a certain amount of absolute points of Light to these souls, which in most cases don’t deserve that at all – and you seek to get a reward for similar generosity by yourself in the form of those conventional financial points. This also concerns your prayers based on schedule instead of call of your soul – they are estimated to have a small, yet negative value.”

“Well, you know!” Artem Sergeyevich got furious, “you will condemn each and every one that way! Even saints!”

“No, saints are the best judges for themselves, even during their lifetime.”

“And what is there… five and a half thousands of absolute points?!” Artem Sergeyevich cried out from surprise, having seen with a corner of his eyes one of the lines in the estimation sheet of another soul, that was lying on a table.

“Rescue of a soul,” Angelina answered with a smile. “Absolutely sincere and real. Plus, five hundred absolute points for the rescue of a cat, whom this woman cured, having sold out a part of own hand-painted pictures for these purposes. Her art and creativity, which has inspired several other men to develop own talents, was estimated to be worth two and a half thousands of points. Our scales are extremely accurate, Artem Sergeyevich, have no doubt of it.”

“Go to hell with these scales-mails-miracles!” Artem Sergeyevich exclaimed in a fit of temper. “Where do I sign here? I sign here and go to my rest place for a million of years! I deserved that!”

“Wait a moment!” suddenly exclaimed the heavenly accountant. “Our system shows a change in your estimated data. The matter is that… your wife… she learned about your double betrayal during your lifetime, but… just at this moment there, on the Earth… she forgave you and asked us to help you in any way possible. Now your balance is… let me see… now you have zero points, Artem Sergeyevich. Well… probably, I should congratulate you with that. Now you have a chance, whether you deserve it or not, – she added quietly.”

***

“What a bitch,” thought Artem Sergeyevich to himself while being led by his Angel-Guide to the halls for a very long awaiting of the Court. “Though by the end of my life, but she had finally made something worthy. I beat her in youth for a reason, not for nothing!”

“Zero… a total zero,” thought the angelic Guide, while looking through the estimation sheet, issued to his ward.

“Saint…” thought Angelina with a smile, watching how the balance of soul of an artist and Artem Sergeyevich’s wife, who has saved his soul this day, confidently overpasses the mark of ten thousand of absolutely unconditional points.

11.08.2017

This particular day of Anton Pavlovich’s life went awry from the start.

At first his lawyer for divorce proceedings called him by phone and with affectedly false regret in own voice notified Anton Pavlovich that the second apartment in a center of Moscow, which Anton Pavlovich has honestly acquired by not-so-honest work can’t be kept in any way because it’s considered a shared property, acquired by him along with his nowadays almost ex-wife. Then some sort of fool from Godforsaken insurance company called him and offered “new unique property insurance package with fire-protection included” – and this, together with a sad fact of his country house, which has been burned almost to ashes by a lightning strike about a month ago, sounded almost like professional, even though accidental mockery. In a doorway of this exact Moscow apartment, which has been bought on money from pension system fraud, his new mistress Jessica has been already waiting for him and with a languid voice she inquired, when her “sweetie daddy” is going to buy her a new promised mink fur coat instead of an old one, given to her by a former lover. And this new mistress, to be honest, was quite a black sheep – but his previous unmarried concubine Victoria demanded such thorough and capital investments, that it was much easier and cheaper to hire some east harem than to continue satisfaction of her growing not by days, but by wallets appetites. And at this moment Anton Pavlovich could do nothing better than to form a false smile on his tense face and go together with Jessica to a new boutique.

What can we say? That regrettable for Anton Pavlovich day was destined to come to a failure from the start. Anton Pavlovich was pressing on his car’s accelerator pedal so hard, trying to get rid on the way to the boutique of one thousand of annoying thoughts, which have been importunately biting his raging mind, that he didn’t notice how he has exceeded allowed in the urban environments speed limit of sixty kilometers per hour. Or maybe just this last hour became like a whole life, stretching into its own eternity?