The sparsely populated lobby looked more like a doctor’s waiting room than anything Josh might have expected to find in the afterlife. The hard wooden chair’s arms looked like it would pinch all but the slimmest of hips and the thin cushion was more for aesthetics than comfort. The bare white walls held just an abstract print and a small television set droned on in the corner providing background noise to the soft sounds of weeping and hushed conversations coming from the few people who stood waiting for the elevator.

If it weren’t for the smell of sulfur that permeated the air or the occasional wisp of smoke that escaped out from under the door behind the receptionist’s desk, you wouldn’t even know you were in the lobby for Hell. The receptionist at first glance looked like a petite human woman with light brown hair, wearing what looked like a business casual blouse with a little lace trim. The small bony nubs protruding from the top of her head and the three fingered hands, were a dead giveaway she was anything but human. She sat there, filing her nails, flipping through the pages of a glossy magazine. As Josh approached her desk, he held his taped hands out to her.

“Can I get you to cut the tape off?” He asked her putting his bound wrists on her desk. Without looking up she pushed his hands off her desk and went back to her filing.

“Excuse me, but can you please help me get this tape off?” he asked again, this time putting his hands on the magazine she had been reading.

This time she did look up at him, “I can’t do anything until you are processed.”

“What do you mean processed? I really don’t understand why I’m here,” he said to her.

“Look, I don’t make the rules. But the moment you enter the lobby your punishment begins, and maybe having your wrists duct taped together is part of your punishment,” she said, as she smacked the gum in her mouth.

“I don’t understand, I’m not a bad person, why am I in Hell?”

“Everyone in here says the same thing, ‘I’m innocent, I’m supposed to be in Heaven’ blah, blah blah,” another smack of her gum.

“Isn’t there someone I can appeal to? There’s got to be a mistake. I at least want to hear what my sins were that got me here.”

She rolled her eyes in response as she reached over and pressed the intercom button on her desk, “Hey Marge, can you send Reaper up, I have someone wanting to speak to him and tell him to bring the file.”

“What’s the name?” the voice crackled from the otherside of the intercom.

“Joshua Andrews,” Josh said before the receptionist could ask him.

“Okay, sending him up.”

“You might as well have a seat, it might be awhile,” the receptionist said as she turned back to her magazine.

Josh walked over to the group standing in front of the elevator, “Do any of you happen to have anything that might cut duct tape?”

The murmur of conversation stopped and everyone glanced up at him. Deciding he was of no importance, they stepped aside and went back to their hushed conversation.

Josh looked over at the only person seated, an eldery man sleeping on a small sofa.

Deciding not to bother waking him, Josh sat down and tried using his teeth to rip the duct tape. As soon as he made any headway, the tape would seal itself back up and he’d be just as bound as he was before. After realizing this was an exercise in futility, he gave up.

As he waited he thought about his last day on Earth and how things might have been different. If it hadn’t been for that tweaker, Caryn, getting it into her head that he could somehow save her poodle, he’d probably be home watching a baseball game right now. He told her he wasn’t that kind of vet, he was retired Navy, not a veterinarian. She didn’t seem to think there was a difference, to her a vet was a vet. He didn’t realize just how crazy she was until she pulled out the gun and roll of duct tape.

The ding of the elevator stopping brought Josh back to reality. The group of people who had moments before been huddled in front of it, now stepped away, shrinking back from the opening doors. Josh looked over and could only see the goat legs and the top of the horns on the head as the figure carried a large stack of folders in front of itself.

As the figure walked over to the receptionist desk, Josh followed.

As the figure set the stack of folders on the desk, Josh could see he looked like a pimply faced teenager with horn rimmed glasses. He reminded Josh of Seymour from the school play, Little Shop of Horrors he’d gone to see a few years back. “I heard someone was looking for me,” the teenager said in a nasaly voice.

“Are you who I need to talk to about the mistake?” Josh asked as he approached the desk.

“I doubt there were any errors, my work is impeccable. What’s your full name?” the boy asked as he looked over at Josh.

“Joshua David Andrews.”

“Let’s see, Joshua David Andrews,” the boy started opening folders and looking at the name on the first page. “Linda, can you help me with this?”

The receptionist rolled her eyes at him but began looking at the names in the folders as well.

“Okay, Mr. Andrews, let’s talk about the reasons you are down here instead of upstairs,” Reaper said as they finished sorting the folders and picked up a small stack. “These are all the files we’ve compiled on you.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t think I was that bad of a person. Am I in Hell for stealing a piece of candy when I was five? I swear I didn’t know better, I’m so sorry,” Josh’s voice started to crack.

“Oh no, nothing like that, we don’t start recording your sins unless they reach a high enough level to make you a nuisance or threat to society. Linda, do you mind giving up your desk for a little while, I need to review these with Mr. Andrews. Also, would you please wake up, Ernest, I have a feeling we’re gonna need him.”

Josh noticed she also had goat legs as she stepped out from the desk and went to the old man sleeping in the lobby.

“So what’s this about?” the old man said as he followed Linda back to the desk. She picked up her magazine and went through the door behind her desk.

“I got a feeling, Mr. Andrews is going to appeal and I need a witness that I went through his files with him. You know the drill.” Reaper said as the old man took the seat Linda had been occupying.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Ernest replied.

“So Mr Andrews, according to this file, you robbed a bank in Tulsa and shot the security guard. You were killed in a shootout with the police while trying to flee the scene.”

“Wait, I’ve never been to Tulsa, that can’t be me.”

“Has your description right here, white male, prominent scar on left cheek.”

“That’s not me, look, no scar” Josh said, turning his face to both of the men.

“Next file says you were part of the Nazi party during World War Two.”

“Whoa, now I know this is a serious mistake, do I look old enough to have served anywhere during World War Two?”

“Are you saying you weren’t a soldier?” Ernest asked from his seat.

“Yeah, but I was in the US Navy. I only served two years, I spent most of it on a supply ship off the coast of North Carolina. I never saw action.”

“Mr. Andrews has a point, Reaper, he does seem kinda young to have been part of all that mess with Hitler.”

“You know, I’m just as terrible at judging ages as I am at remembering faces. All these humans look the same to me.. Okay, the next file says you were part of a biker gang that was responsible for throwing pipe bombs into the home of a known drug dealer. You were killed when you crashed your bike three days later.”

“Oh really? I crashed my bike? No wonder I crashed, I was driving with my hands duct taped together!” Joshua held his bound wrists up for the pair to see.

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t you.”

“Next file,” Reaper started to say before Ernest put his hand on top of the files.

“Reaper, admit you don’t know why Mr Andrews is here so I can get back to my nap. It’s your first day working alone, it’s okay to admit you might have made a mistake.”

“But I couldn’t have made a mistake, I aced all of my classes, I had the highest scores out of all the other soul collectors.”

“I know, son, but if you insist on Mr Andrews being here and this was a mistake, you know who will eventually figure it out and you’ll really be in trouble then.”

Reaper looked like a young teenager as he pulled out what looked like an inhaler from his pocket and took a puff. “If this is a mistake, how do I fix it?”

“You can start by taking the duct tape off, “ Joshua said, placing his hands on the desk.

“The tape should unravel easily now,” Ernest said. “What he meant was, what do we do with you? We can’t send you upstairs in case you say something to the boss, that might look bad on us. We can’t send you to any of the levels of Hell because we don’t know that you did anything to warrant it. So now what do we do with you?”

“What are my options?”

“Well if you don’t want to wait around in the lobby for a decade or two waiting on reincarnation, we might be able to find a job for you.” Ernest said.

“What kind of job?” Josh asked.

“I was thinking maybe you could teach some of the students how to tell humans apart. We try but not being human ourselves we miss some of the more subtle signs.”

“I’ve noticed that.”

“So what do you say, job at the school or hang out with Linda in the lobby for the next couple decades?”

***********

“Good morning students, today’s first lesson will be how to tell if a human is male or female.”