Anise pondered the concept of The Draw. It was similar to a children’s game on Earth called “musical chairs.” While Earth turns on its axis in an ever-rotating orbit, all souls run as fast as possible around the globe each trying their hardest to keep up with the country of their choice. Every few minutes, a trumpet sounds and a blue light illuminates one country on the globe. The souls who are closest to that country at that exact moment are sent there.
But it doesn’t really work, Anise thought. Earth spins much faster than anyone can run, which means that only a handful of souls ever reach the country of their choice. As far as Anise was concerned, the system was stupid and unfair. This was not a party game; it was the way a whole lifetime on Earth was determined. Everyone knew how hard life could be down there and heaven of all places should be the first to come up with a more even-handed system.
Funny, thought Anise bitterly, people say that there’s justice in heaven. But, just like anywhere else, the only sure thing in heaven is the bureaucracy.
Anise had tried numerous times to speak to the angel in charge of The Draw. He had told her to write a proper letter and send it to the department that handled such matters. She composed a few letters, each of which was acknowledged with a promise by some exhausted, overworked angel that they would establish another committee to reconsider her request for a reform in the system. But as usual, just like committees on Earth, a host of angels spent hours deliberating around a long conference table only to conclude with no conclusion whatsoever.
“Anise!” Yam, whom she’d lost in the crowd, interrupted her thoughts, calling her name from somewhere in the distance. Against her better judgment, she forced herself to ignore him; he would just try to stop her. It was now or never. She had to make her move now if she wanted to do something about The Draw. She was doing it for him and all the others, and she looked back anxiously hoping Yam would understand.
In all the mayhem, no one noticed that Anise had strayed from the line. She’d never left the line before. Heaven was immense, she didn’t know her way around, but she’d work it out somehow, she thought. She’d find Him. It’s about time the system changed. It isn’t working, and mainly, it’s unjust, even cruel. No matter how busy He was with other matters, she’d find a way to persuade God to listen to her.
First, Anise checked the railway platform, where the trolleys were docked. There must be a way out somewhere there. On the right, not far from her, she noticed an angel in blue garb walking straight toward her, towing a holographic board behind him.
Anise quickly ducked down, hoping he hadn’t seen her. She snatched a passing cloud and wrapped it around her shoulders. The cloud was rather uncooperative and protested by showering her with cold drops of water, but eventually gave up and surrendered. Anise ignored the wetness seeping deeper into her soaked robe and held her breath. Right then, the angel passed close by and Anise had a clear view of the board where the numbers were piled up in a heap in what looked like a scuffle. She could just make out the word at the top of the board. It said: “Births.”
Suddenly, it all came together. Her eyes darted to the frenzy of numbers on the board. They weren’t squabbling at all but were frantically trying to keep count of the souls who were feverishly making their way Earthwards. She remembered that Yam and Mor were still back in the hall. She had to hurry back before they were sent without her. A whole lifetime on Earth without them was an unbearable thought.
Anxiously, she watched the angel suddenly stop just a short distance away. But he was too busy to notice her as he used his free hand to grab the few numbers trying to jump ship, and then continued wearily on his way, nudging the board forward toward the center of the hall. Anise, who was completely soaked by now, let out a sigh of relief and released her grip on the cloud, which promptly floated upwards and angrily pelted her with hail. Shaking the jagged bits of ice from her wet robe, she quickly set off. She was a few steps away from the docking platform when a trolley came screeching to a halt, forcing her to roll swiftly out of the way to avoid the fierce wind that was blowing the commuters out of the trolley.
She took advantage of the commotion around her, she slipped quietly away, and circled the dock, sweeping her gaze furtively from side to side. The attendants were fully absorbed in their jobs, and it looked like she’d managed to avoid detection. Slightly further ahead was the wreckage of an old trolley, its sides twisted by what had probably been a particularly strong gust of wind. Anise crept into the trolley and peeked out cautiously, surveying the platform.
Not far from her, she saw a line of odd-looking creatures – she’d never seen anything like them before. They marched in single file, each on three squat legs, carrying large packages wrapped in brown paper on the flat surface of their backs. Anise thought they slightly resembled camels, though much smaller. The caravan proceeded in flawless form to the other end of the platform, and she watched as the creatures disappeared into the heavy mist enveloping the dock perimeter. There must be an exit there, she thought. Anise wrapped her robe tightly around her, and then, covering her face, ducked down and quickly joined the long line progressing at a painfully sluggish pace. Some of the creatures sized her up suspiciously. Anise ignored their stares and stepped through the mist, groping blindly in the dark for some solid ground on
