Boyd had a major heart attack while bowling and died. At the funeral, his family all said that at least he died doing what he loved.
The next thing Boyd saw after he dropped his bowling ball and died, was a giant bowling alley, and he realized he was standing in an empty parking lot. It was pitch black outside. The interior of the bowling alley was lit up like a lighthouse in a sea of souls.
He knew he was dead, but somehow it didn’t bother him. He’d devoted his whole life to bowling. He even won a state championship once. He didn’t have friends, and what family he did have, didn’t like him.
No wonder. He was a small selfish little man who had no empathy for others. Now, this bowling alley looked like heaven to him.
He walked up to the front doors and peered inside. The place was packed with people bowling. This was too good to be true, he idly thought. Then he was inside. The cacophony of bowling balls slamming into pins sounded like celestial music to him.
He wandered around for a while looking for a place to sign up and play. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw a middle-aged man wearing glasses too big for his face.
“You’ll be playing on Lane 13, against Stanley Benning in ten minutes,” the man told him and then blended back into the crowd. Turning back to the lanes, Boyd saw a projection above each one with different messages.
“You lose. Report below.”
“Congratulations, you won this round.”
“Good job. You’re one step closer to salvation.”
Boyd’s stomach started churning. Alarms were going off in his head. This wasn’t heaven. Was it hell?
He zombie-walked over to Lane 13. A thin man with bright red hair was sitting at the scoring table. He was holding an animated conversation with himself.
“Why am I here?
Because you were a shit!
Boyd waited until he stopped, then introduced himself.
“Yeah right. I was expecting you,” the thin man with bright red hair, and whose name was Stanley Benning, replied.
“Is this hell?” Boyd asked.
“No, that’s the next stop from here, if you don’t win and make it to heaven,” Stanley said.
“Is God keeping score?”
“I have no idea. All I know, is that you have to win five games in a row against five different opponents to cash your ticket to heaven.”
“Do you mean,” asked Boyd, “that the good and bad souls all go here first?”
“Oh heck no! The good souls go directly to heaven. We’re somewhere between heaven and hell.”
Frame-after-frame they stay tied, until the ninth when Stanley left an open frame. Both of them bowled the game of their lives. Boyd was better that day, and won. Stanley simply disappeared.
Not sure what to do next, Boyd sat down at the scorer’s table. He watched the end of the lane intently waiting for a message. One down, four to go. He just might be able to pull this off he thought.
Then the projection on the wall read, Next Opponent…Earl Anthony!
Even though Boyd knew it meant he was going to hell, he couldn’t help but feel honored to get to play with one of the greatest PBA legends of all time.
As It Stands, I get a kick out of envisioning the hereafter!