"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

The woman blinked and looked at the man standing beside her. "I'm sorry?"

He squinted and absently adjusted his black beret. "Yeah, I'm sure I've seen your face before."

She shrugged. "I've been up here before."

He nodded, as if visiting this place more than once made perfect sense. "Yeah, same here. Name?"

She looked at the floor. "Um..."

He held up his hands. "Hey, it's cool. Some people don't like talking about their pasts. Don't mean much up here anyways." His leather jacket creaked as he extended a hand. "Name's Jesse."

She brushed away a strand of long blonde hair, considering, then took his hand. "I'm... Rosanna."

"Rosanna, huh? All right. Nice to meet you, Rosie."

Rosanna gave him a small smile. "Likewise. I've heard very good things about you."

"Oh yeah? From who?"

Rosanna withdrew her hand but continued to smile.

"I see how it is, then. A lady of mystery. That's cool, that's cool." Jesse turned and flicked a hand to take in their room. "You know any of these guys?"

Rosanna looked around. A younger man with ruffled brown hair sat hunched over a blank sheet of paper resting on a glass coffee table. One hand ran through the hair, mussing it further, while the other tapped a pencil against the paper. The couch on which he sat was the purest white, as were his pants, shirt, and shoes.

A middle-aged woman with cropped hair sat wringing her hands at the opposite end of the couch. Every now and then she would look over at the man, her mouth opening and closing rapidly. Her body occasionally jerked, as if she were resisting scrabbling across the couch toward him, and her crossed foot bobbed restlessly on her opposite leg. She too was dressed all in white.

Rosanna's eyebrows rose as she took in the room's final inhabitant. The woman was tall, slender yet properly filled, and inarguably beautiful. Fiery hair hung down to her shoulders. Like Jesse, her black leather clothing was in stark contrast to the white wall on which she leaned, as well as the plush white carpeting on which she stood. A rifle was hugged against her chest.

"She crazy," Jesse whispered.

Rosanna lifted a hand to her mouth and stifled a giggle.

The woman sitting on the couch leapt to her feet and spun to face her seatmate. "There is no need for you to be calculating a tip for that ghastly man, my darling."

"He was a good server, Mother," the man mumbled. His pencil continued to tap, though the knuckles gripping it were now as white as his clothing.

Mother rolled her eyes and practically stamped her feet. "Honestly, darling, what is the point? The food is free here, you know that."

The tapping stopped. "I just want to is all."

Mother made a sound of annoyance as her hand fiddled with a white pearl that dangled from one ear like a raindrop from a leaf. "It's pointless, darling. You're so clever, you know that. Just because your brother once told you--"

Darling spiked the pencil against the clear tabletop, snapping its point away. His brown eyes rose to glare at Mother, who promptly sat down and resumed her aggravated jittering. Darling stared at her for a moment longer before turning away and rubbing the broken pencil head with one finger. A fresh point of lead appeared after he removed his hand. Satisfied, he bent over the paper and resumed his tapping.

Rosanna looked at Jesse.

"They're crazy, too," he said. This time they both laughed.

Mother stood again. "Darling!" she gasped.

He flung the pencil to the floor. "Mother, I swear, if you're going to start up again..."

"No, look," she said, pointing.

Rosanna, Jesse, Darling, and the troubled woman caressing the rifle turned to see a long horizontal slit that had appeared in the far wall. It looked like a narrow bar of bright, golden light. As they watched, the slit began to extend slowly downward, like a window shade being drawn. The room became brighter as the lengthening rectangle flooded the room with more light. It stopped once it reached the floor.

Jesse swallowed. "The door. It's time."

"Yes," Rosanna said.

"Quickly!" Mother barked, slapping Darling's leg. "Gather your things. He's ready to see us."

Darling crumpled the blank sheet with one hand while the other groped for the pencil along the floor. He found it and stuffed both it and the wad of paper in his pocket before hurrying after his mother, who was scurrying through the doorway. They both disappeared immediately after crossing the threshold.

The red-haired woman stared solemnly at her rifle, her eyes glittering brightly. "At last," she breathed. She too strode through the portal and promptly vanished.

Jesse took a deep breath and turned to Rosanna. "You ready?"

"Yes."

They walked through together.



Rosanna smiled as she tromped across the white ground. The surface of the cloud appeared as thick as freshly fallen snow, yet was lightweight as cotton. Her bare feet scattered it into the air before her as she walked, just like snow - but unlike snow it wafted back down like a feather.

"Having fun?" Jesse asked from beside her.

"Just enjoying it while I can."

Jesse stopped, considering. "Good idea." With that, he clamped one hand overtop his beret, turned, and jogged the short distance to the edge of the cloud.

"Hey," Rosanna called. "Where are you...?"

"Come watch," he replied.

Curious, Rosanna trotted up beside him. One hand still gripping his hat, Jesse wound back his foot, whooped with joy, then snapped his foot forward, sending a huge tuft of cloud sailing over the edge into the sky stretched out before them, as vast and blue as the ocean.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, staring into the blue.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But what's down there," he pointed toward a hazy green and brown blob far, far below, "is even better."

She looked for a moment longer before straightening. "It definitely is."

"C'mon," he said, turning away. "Let's catch up to the others."



Jesse and Rosanna stood at the back of a short line of people leading up to a tall barred gate made of the brightest, shiniest gold. Beyond the gate were branching roads of gold that led to fabulous golden mansions. To either side of the gate were high walls of cloud. A cloud podium stood in front of the golden bars.

Rosanna stood on her toes, peered around, and plopped back down. "He's not here yet."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Jesse said, though he too was looking anxiously at the podium. "He has to do this, what, a hundred times a day? Probably just took a coffee break or somethin'."

"I suppose, but... there he is!"

The gathered crowd began to hum with excitement and nervousness as the bald head of a man with a bushy beard popped through the cloudy floor beside the podium. The rest of his body appeared slowly, revealing a thick white notebook tucked under one arm. He smiled and waved at them as he finally ascemded completely into view and stepped behind the podium.

"Good day," he said, his deep voice echoing across the island.

Mumbled greetings were returned.

He chuckled softly, though that too was loud coming from him, like drum beats in an empty auditorium.

"We'll get through this quickly," he said. "Some of you have places to be--"

"For real," Jesse muttered.

"--while others have still more waiting to do."

Someone squawked indignantly from the front of the line. Rosanna didn't need to look to know it was Mother.

Peter flicked his wrist and summoned a pair of wispy spectacles. After settling them into place, he placed his notebook on the stand, flipped through several pages, then looked up and smiled.

"You may approach," he said, nodding to the first in line.

Mother walked quickly forward. "Good day, your Grace. My son wants--"

"Just 'Peter' will do, madam."

"What's that? Oh! Right, Peter, yes, of course that's who you are, darling, haha! Why I was just telling my son the other day how handsome you were, wasn't I? And now here you are, and here we are, and--"

Mother's mouth snapped shut as Darling rested a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward.

"Forgive my mother," he said, bowing to Peter. "She gets a bit excitable at times. And stupid."

Mother sounded another squawk.

"It's no trouble," Peter said. "What is your case, young man?"

Darling swallowed and cleared his throat. "The same as always, Peter. I want to go home." He turned to his mother, who shrank back. "It's her fault I'm here."

"Why do you feel you should return to Pine Valley?"

"Millers Falls was searched, but my body was never found. That means I still have a chance, a chance to live my life, and to return to... to her."

"Ugh," Mother said, and this time she did not step back at her son's furious gaze. "She was never good enough for you. No one was. No one is. She is not worth your--"

Peter raised a hand, silencing both of them. "It is not your place to decide such things," he said, frowning at Mother. He turned to Darling. "I sympathize with your desire, young man. But the time is not right. It may never be."

Darling stiffened. "I understand, Peter."

Mother fought to hide her smile of triumph. "It is for the best, darling," she said, reaching out an arm toward him then thinking better of it. She looked up at Peter. "Thank you, darling -- Peter, that is. My son belongs with me. Mother knows what is best, and--"

"I do tire of you," Peter said.

Mother gulped.

Peter smiled gently at Darling. "Step aside, son."

Darling grabbed his mother's arm and pulled her to one side of the podium. After a moment, they disappeared.

Peter looked down at his notebook, grunted, and said, "Next."

The red-haired woman stepped forward. "I want to go back," she said, her voice flat.

"No."

Her face twisted. "I am owed a child by a man there. Also, his wife is incredibly annoying, and," she hefted her rifle, "I will not miss twice. I will go back."

"Perhaps, but not this day."

Her face softened. "Truly?"

"Perhaps, I say again. Your time was too short."

"So you agree that--"

"Step to the side, and you have my word that we will discuss this further one day."

Clutching the rifle to her chest and whispering excitedly to it, the woman practically skipped to where Darling and Mother had stood before. She vanished.

Peter glanced down at his book, mouthed words to himself, then looked up with a smile.

"Step forward, Jesse."

"'Bout time, man," Jesse said, though he too was smiling.

"What brings you back here?" Peter asked, now frowning as he again looked at his book. "I thought we straightened everything out."

"Well apparently not. You gotta hurry up, man. If Angie wakes up and finds me gone, she's gonna be pis--um, I mean, she'll be pretty upset, you know?"

"Indeed, indeed," Peter muttered, now leafing through pages. "What could the problem be?"

"Some people are havin' trouble accepting me back, I guess. Probably because certain things weren't explained."

Peter looked up. "What do you mean?"

Jesse widened his eyes and spread his hands, as if the answer were obvious. "How about my best friend saw a vision of me after that tornado hit several years back?"

"That?" Peter asked. He waved a hand. "We dismissed that as a hallucination."

"No you didn't."

"We didn't?"

"Not yet, man. And what about when I led what's-her-name up here?"

"Ah... oh yes, the Andrassy girl." Peter leaned against the podium. "She was quite beautiful, you know."

"Yeah, if you like them girls missing vital organs - like a heart."

"She still insists on returning home. Says she misses her husband, that they were--how did she put it?--like 'two peas in a cab'." Peter barked a jolly laugh.

Jesse laughed, too. "Yeah, I didn't know her long, but the girl did have a unique take on the English language."

Peter nodded agreement and straightened. "Well, I don't know what to say. It's quite a slip-up we've made."

"Darn right it is! Man, I'm trying to live my life and you people are--"

"The mistakes you've mentioned must be taken under consideration."

Jesse stopped, his mouth hanging open.

"Until a review is complete," Peter continued, "you'll have to stay with us, I'm afraid."

Jesse's mouth worked soundlessly. "Uh..." he finally said.

Peter burst out laughing and pounded a fist on the podium. "Oh man, I totally got you!"

Jesse squeaked a laugh. "Yeah, man, ha ha, totally. So, uh, am I free to--?"

Still laughing, Peter reached down, ripped off a wad of cloud, and used it to mop his face. "Oh my, that was funny, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Very. Can I go home, now?"

"Hoo! Well, let's see." Peter threw away the cloud-kerchief and donned a sober expression. "We might straighten out those items, and we might not. Is that so horrible, Mister Hubbard?"

"Not as horrible as I thought."

"No, of course not. Now, if there's nothing else...?"

"Not today, no." Jesse sighed. "Will I be back up here again?"

"It's very likely."

"Man!" Jesse sighed again. "That's all right, though. I'm back, and I'll take what I can get."

"Very good. Now, if you'd be so kind...?" Peter pointed to where the others had stood before disappearing.

"Yeah, yeah, it's cool," Jesse said. He walked over to the spot and turned to face Rosanna. "See you soon?"

She smiled and stepped forward. "I sure hope so. It was good to finally meet you, Jesse."

"'Finally'?" Jesse repeated. He began to fade.

Peter smiled warmly. "Ah! So good to see you again, Dix--"

"Rosanna," she interrupted, glancing at Jesse.

Jesse stared at her, then Peter, then back at Rosanna. "You mean you're...? Holy sh--!"

He disappeared.

Peter turned back to Rosanna. "What was that about?"

"I'd prefer to keep our plans a secret, that's all."

Peter nodded. "That is your decision."

"If he sees me, he won't remember this, right?"

"That can be arranged."

"Please."

"Very well." Peter folded his hands on the notebook. "How's it going, then? Your little quest."

"Fine, until I was interrupted."

Peter tsked. "You were toying with one of the humans. You're aware of the rules, I assume?"

"I am. That one's special, though."

"Rosanna..."

She folded her arms across her chest. "He started it years ago. It's payback, that's all."

"As long as you're not planning on hurting him--"

"Of course not!"

"--then I suppose it's all right." Peter leaned forward and grinned wolfishly. "What else have you got in store for the old goat?"

"I was thinking of serving him a platter of peanut butter/banana pancakes."

Peter sputtered. "You just said you didn't intent to harm--"

"I'm only kidding. You have to have a sense of humor about these things."

Peter grunted and scratched at his beard. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"I would. Now, if there's nothing else?"

Peter flipped his book closed and plucked it from the podium. It began to sink into the cloud as he walked around it. "Not at the moment." He came before her, took her hand, and kissed it gently. "Godspeed," he said with a wink.

Rosanna scrunched her face. "Oh, very funny."

"I'm in rare form today." With that, Peter turned and snapped his fingers. The pearly gates parted in the middle, each sliding away to admit the Saint. He began to walk through.

"Peter?"

He turned back. "Yes, Rosanna?"

She licked her lips. "If... if it goes well, and if they still need me... could I stay longer?"

He stared at her for several moments. "We shall see."

She smiled. "That's good enough."

"Good luck, dear girl."

"I've never needed luck." With that, she disappeared.