“What are they doing here?” the suicide bomber asked Allah, pointing to the fifty-two victims he had just blown up along with himself. “I thought I was going to Paradise alone.”
“Don’t let him in!” a dead man called from among the recent arrivals.
“He killed us!” a female victim shouted.
Allah, who was sitting on a gold throne at the entrance to Paradise, held up his scepter, which had a curious red button on top, and told the bomber, “It always happens this way.”
“But why?” he wanted to know.
Allah held up a scroll on which were written the words he now spoke: “Do the math!”
“I was never good at math,” the bomber admitted. “Please, explain.”
“It’s really quite simple, Allah told him. The usual transportation speed from the earth to Paradise is a constant. So everybody who dies at the same time arrives here at the same time.”
“Oh,” sighed the bomber, “I didn’t think of that.”
“Justice! We demand justice!” the disgruntled crowd confirmed.
“Please, let me proceed,” Allah advised them. Then he turned his eyes on the bomber. “What do you have to say on your behalf?”
“Praise be to God,” replied the bomber, and fell on his knees. “I killed them for you, Allah.”
“I don’t remember asking. Got any other reason?”
“Oh, a really good one.”
“Do I know everything?” Allah asked.
“Yes, you do. God is great!”
“Then why don’t I know of a really good reason to kill people?”
“Infidels!” he shouted. “They’re infidels!”
“What’s an infidel?” one of the dead children asked his mother.
“Somebody who doesn’t agree with me and my superiors!” the bomber informed the child.
“I don’t!” one of the dead men exclaimed, and turned to Allah. “So let me blow him up!”
“Please,” Allah replied, “up here I pass out the rewards and punishments.”
“Then no doubt I have earned an eternal reward in Paradise,” the bomber said.
“Never!” the dead crowd demanded.
“I have earned my eternal reward with my life!” the bomber shot back.
“Eternal, no doubt,” Allah replied. “But there seems to be some disagreement about the location.”
“But my superiors assured me that I would go straight to heaven for blowing myself and these infidels up.”
“I know that,” Allah told him. “It’s one of the disadvantages of knowing everything. Frankly, sometimes I wish I didn’t. I get the worst headaches.” He took a notepad out of a pocket in his gown. “See. I have a list of your advisors. Now, for the big question. Who should get into Paradise, you or them?”
“Me?” the bomber said tentatively.
“Justice! We demand justice!” the crowd shouted.
“Not to worry,” Allah told them. “That’s what I specialize in.” He turned to the suicide bomber once again. “What do you mean by infidels?”
“They believe different things than I do, especially about you!”
“Why do you think it’s possible for people to believe different things, even about me?”
“Because they’re wrong!” the bomber answered.
“No, because I decided people should be able to believe different things.”
“You did?”
“Am I all-powerful?”
“Praise be to God, of course, you are,” the bomber replied.
“Then, if I didn’t want them to be able to believe different things, I assume you understand that they would not be able to?
“Oh,” the bomber realized. ”
“Thanks, Allah,” one of the dead men said. “That’s a good point.”
“You mean they have a right to disagree with me and my superiors?” the suicide bomber wanted to know.
“How else could they get away with it?” Allah asked.
“Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that,” he lamented.
“I know that,” Allah said. “Now, perhaps you know I have a rule?”
“Oh, lots of them,” the bomber went on. “I know them by heart.”
“How about the one about don’t kill?”
“I didn’t know that applies to infidels!”
“He’s guilty!” a man yelled.
“He killed us!” a child screamed.
“Send him to hell!” his dead mother said, and put her arm around the child.
“We’ll get to who belongs where,” Allah said, and turned to the bomber. “Do you think I made you?”
“Yes, you did. God is great!”
“Do you think I made them?”
“I don’t know why, but, yes, I have to admit you made everyone and everything.”
“Thank you,” Allah said, and pointed to the dead crowd. “What would happen if everybody decided to blow up people who don’t agree with him or her?”
“There would be even more blessed martyrs,” the suicide bomber said.
“You mean crazy people!” one of the dead women called.
“Hold it,” Allah said once again, closing his eyes with a bit of perturbation. “I have arrived at a decision.”
“Then I can enter Paradise?” the bomber suggested, and moved forward.
“I’m not finished,” Allah told him, blocking the way with his scepter that had the red button on top.
“Tell it like it is, Allah!” a dead man called.
“Send him to hell - to burn forever!” a woman screamed.
“Please,” Allah said, “no need to shout. Remember, I can even take a hint.” He looked back at the bomber. “Do you know we have never had a bomb go off in Paradise?”
“Really?”
No, it’s a very peaceful place. And do you know why we have never had a bomb go off?”
“Because it’s Paradise?” the bomber asked.
“Yes, but there’s another reason.”
“Praise be to God, tell me.”
“Because I never let a bomber in.”
“But I’m done being a bomber,” the bomber replied. “Now, I’m a martyr!”
“Bomber!” a woman yelled.
“No, no, I’m not a bomber anymore!” the bomber shouted.
“Aren’t you?” Allah asked. “You did decide to be a bomber, didn’t you?”
“My superiors told me to do it!”
“But you agreed or you wouldn’t have done it. Am I right?”
“Praise be to God, you are all-wise.”
“Thanks. Then you’ll understand that once a bomber, always a bomber.”
“Forgive me, Allah! I was wrong.”
“Never, Allah! He’s a murderer!” a man in the deceased crowd called.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with them,” Allah decided.
“With them? With the infidels?”
“Please, stand aside,” Allah said to the bomber. Then he turned to the victims. “You can come in.”
“Thank you, God!” they said. “Praise be to Allah!”
They filed past their great benefactor, bowing as they went.
“But I’m the one who deserves to go to Paradise!” the bomber protested.
“We’ll see,” Allah said.
When all the people who had been blown up had entered Paradise, the bomber asked, “Is it my turn to go in?”
“Let’s talk about that,” Allah said, and moved his finger to the red button on the top of his scepter, which happened to control a trap door. “I believe you said you killed those people for me?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you think I let them be born so you could kill them?”
“But look how they turned out!”
“Is that for you to decide or for me to decide?”
“For you, Allah, I admit it. I was wrong! I’m sorry. Forgive me!”
“I do forgive you,” Allah said, “but I also gave you the freedom to decide who you would become. And I never change Paradise policy.
Praise be to Allah, tell me, what is it?
No bombers, especially suicide bombers, allowed.”
With that, he pushed the red button on his scepter and the unfortunate soul dropped to his unexpected destiny.
Tom Attea, humorist and creator of NewsLaugh.com http://NewsLaugh.com , has had six shows produced Off-Broadway. Critics have called his writing delightfully funny, witty, with good, genuine laughs and great humor and ebullience.
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