«Why not?» I wondered, still understanding nothing.
«My grandma used to say that all children leaving the Earth become angels. Outside the queue, only exceptions are served.»
A devil’s head popped out of the Courtroom.
«Shit! What the Hell are you talking about?! Shut up you both, exceptions! In this Hall, the most interesting begins! And I can’t hear a damn thing because of your chatter!»
«I’m awfully sorry,» I whispered apologetically and involuntarily walked over to the ajar door.
The Moonlight Sonata was playing there, the lights were dimmed. Frozen in anticipation, the judges were ready to listen. The left bowl of Libra tilted almost to the limit, although it contained only one scroll of jubilant demons. Images from the earthly life of yet another soul started projecting on the screen…
What I heard in the Courtroom was shocking, but…
«It’s time to go,» it sounded from behind me.
I turned around and saw my Angel.
«To the Courtroom?» I asked to clarify.
«No, it’s still too early for that,» he smiled. «Everything has its Time.»
«Is there any Time here?» I wondered.
«Yes and no. Everything has its Time. Besides, we’re in the Border Zone.»
The Angel took me by the hand, and we instantly moved back, into the fog, and I could hardly see in it… another queue!
The Angel read my mind.
«No, this is another one,» he replied, «for those descending to Earth.»
«But I’ve just come from there, haven’t I?»
«Yes and no. It’s been decided Upstairs that you should urgently return to your body. As an exception to the rule.»
«Is that why you took me out of the queue to the Chancellery?»
«Right!»
«And that Boy who wants to become… an angel, is he also an exception?»
«Yes, he is, as well.»
«So he won’t become an angel. It’s a pity.»
«Everything has its Time,» repeated the Angel.
We approached the house with the inscription «Customs». At the «Passport control» window, I noticed a Black Raven, stamping the passports of those descending. It was interesting that those standing in the queue to Earth differed in their density and… age, and one could guess the profession from the attire of the soul. All types and kinds were there, in that queue!
«So is everything predetermined?» I asked my Angel.
«Not everything, otherwise what’s the point of descending?» he sighed and added, «Wait for me here! I need to arrange something with the Border Guardian.»