Thursday, 19 September 2019

Try Again, Ollie



St Peter had not been long in charge of the Pearly Gates, which give access to Heaven if you meet his strict criteria, before he became aware of a tricky issue that was raised by a number of would-be entrants.

This was when a recently disembodied soul, faced with the prospect of doing a considerable amount of time in Purgatory, asked St Peter if they could not possibly be given a second go at Life. They had made a hash of their first attempt, for one reason or another, and would quite like to show that, if given the opportunity, they could pass muster for direct entry if allowed the chance.

Being a reasonable sort of saint, Peter pondered the mattered for a few centuries and then came up with the answer. He decided to institute an Office for Reincarnation and appointed the Angel Gabriel to run it, seeing that he had far less to do these days now that all the most important Heavenly messages had been delivered to potential parents of Biblical characters.

Gabriel’s office, just down the road from the Pearly Gates, was soon doing a roaring trade and there always seemed to be a steady queue of souls hoping to be given their second chance.

It has to be said that Gabriel did not always get it right, and he made some appalling mistakes down the centuries. Genghis Khan was one such example, when Gabriel delivered his soul, after a suitable break, to a couple in Upper Austria called Alois and Klara. The boy began well enough, having distinct artistic tendencies, but it all went horribly wrong when he grew a silly moustache and started throwing his right arm upwards at a 45-degree angle.

On the other hand, it was nothing sort of genius giving Lucrezia Borgia another go as Florence Nightingale, and who else could Isaac Newton return as other than Albert Einstein?

Never let it be said that Gabriel did not have a sense of humour. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was full of complaints that he had been cut off in his prime and had plenty of great works up his sleeve, but surely turning into Mick Jagger was far from what he had in mind. No wonder he would lament in his new incarnation that he “could get no satisfaction”.

Gabriel had a particular challenge when Oliver Cromwell turned up. St Peter had been sorely tempted to point him straight down the road to the fiery furnace, but allowed himself to be persuaded otherwise. Oliver was quite convinced that he deserved direct entry in the other direction, but Peter had no intention of going that far. Instead, it was down the road to the Office for Reincarnation for the former Lord Protector of England.

Gabriel looked down the latest applicant’s CV and was distinctly unimpressed.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right”, he said. “You made war against the official King of England and Scotland, and eventually had his head cut off. A King, I might add, who has gone straight through the pearly Gates and is even now knocking back the ambrosia and twanging a harp. Give him a few more centuries and he might even learn to play it in tune.”

“He opposed the will of the people and the legally elected Parliament of the land”, said Oliver.

“So what?” said Gabriel. “Kings can do that if they like.”

“But they shouldn’t be allowed to”, said Oliver. “They should only rule with the consent of the people, as expressed through their elected representatives in Parliament.”

“I see that you then took over as ruler in his place”, said Gabriel.

“Indeed so”, Oliver replied. “But I refused to take the title of King.”

“And presumably you then allowed the rule of the people of England to determine your actions, said Gabriel”.

“Absolutely”, said Oliver.

“As expressed through their elected representatives in Parliament?”

“But of course”.

“On the other hand”, said Gabriel, “I see that one of your first acts after gaining power was to chuck out of Parliament all the members who opposed your intention of cutting off the head of King Charles.”

“So what if I did?”

“And you seriously want a second chance?”

“Why not?”

“Tell you what”, said Gabriel, “I’m in a good mood, so I’ll let you have another go if you’re prepared to wait a few hundred years.”

“Well, thanks for that”, said Oliver, “But can I ask you one more favour?”

“Which is?”

“I always hated the name Oliver. Could I be called something else when the time comes?”

“No problem”, said Gabriel. “I’ve got a great idea. How does the name Boris sound to you?”

© John Welford

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