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responsible for sending him to Hell, then I’m playing God.”
    “Don’t be arrogant. You don’t have the power to determine anyone’s afterlife. Those matters are decided well before you get involved.”
    “Yes, but — ”
    “But nothing. Get to work,” Fate retorted and then vanished abruptly, as she always did. It appeared as if Fate had condensed to a single point of light before snuffing herself out. It felt jarring, like the earth had just moved for a fraction of a second.
    Karen stood for a moment to collect herself. She’d had nightmares about the last couple she had moved into the afterlife, and it continued to bother Karen each time she thought about the sound of their screams when they finally let go of their earthly lives. She bit her lip and wiped away a tear, realizing that she didn’t have a choice. She was bound to do this work until she could find a way out of it. She’d been thinking about it and researching her situation as much as she could, but there really weren’t very many scientific facts about the afterlife.
    She sighed as she thought about her son Claude. Since she’d pawned the gold coins she found in Jerome’s grave she certainly had money to live on for several months, and she could pay for Claude’s medical bills. But then what? Even if Fate paid her more money, Karen would continue to hate this job more than any other she’d ever had, and she wanted out of it. However, like Alice on her Journey through Wonderland, it occurred to Karen that the only way out was through. So she turned to look at Scott.
    During the time that Karen was standing there, Scott had gone up and down the bridge several times. He was headed back down the side closest to her, so Karen pulled herself together and began walking towards the place where she knew that Scott’s wheelchair would crash when he reached the bottom.
    “That was some ride,” she commented to the crumpled heap of Scott when she reached his side.
    “Oh, yeah!” he said with satisfaction as his arms reached out from the disorganized ethereal mess of his ghostly existence and grabbed the side of the chair. With a hard jerk, he flipped the chair upright. The metal made a loud crunching noise as the chair settled.
    “You like going fast?” Karen asked as she watched Scott pulling himself into the chair. As he did so, his legs separated from the blob and unfolded, stretching out from his torso as he settled back into the chair. Karen watched his knee joints flex and release until he was sitting.
    “Oh, yeah!”
    “Is that what you did your whole life? Go fast?”
    “No!” he shouted. “Hell, no. Everyone was always telling me to take it easy.” He continued in a mocking tone, “‘Don’t strain yourself,’ they said, ‘It’s not good for you.’”
    “Wasn’t it good for you to take care of yourself?”
    “How should they know?”
    “Who were they?”
    “Family. Mostly my mom — and the doctors.”
    “I’d think your doctors would know something about your physical condition.”
    “They don’t know shit about life. What’s the good of having a body if all you do is preserve it and never really live?”
    Karen didn’t respond because she didn’t know what to say. The point was valid and she felt the sharpness of it. Who was she to argue with someone who had lived with physical limitations? She’d never experienced anything similar. She’d always been healthy. However, the comment left a sizable sting because she immediately thought about Claude. Karen was always telling him to slow down and take it easy so that he didn’t wind up in the emergency room with an asthma attack. He wasn’t allowed to play sports or do most of the things that the other children his age were doing.
    “Are you alive?” Scott asked eagerly.
    “Yes,” Karen responded in a distracted manner.
    “I mean really alive,” he continued. “You look solid enough, but I really don’t think that has anything to do with it. I’m more