I logged onto AOL the other night about 3 am, and there was a new name on my buddy list: John B. I knew I hadn’t put it there so I had a hunch just who that was. I took a chance and typed, “How are things in Heaven, John?”

Now, some might think I was giving him the benefit of the doubt by putting it that way. Fact is, I have a lot more contacts in the other place and I happen to know there are only two computers in Hell – both old Wang 8088 machines with 300 baud cellular modems, connecting to the internet through Prodigy. So I was relieved to see that old John was already online and not still standing in line behind behind a million lost souls trying to get at the keyboards. That gave me the confidence to conclude he had always been wrong about his final destination.

For a long time my greeting just sat there and nothing happened. I went about my other business for a while, then finally the IM window flashed and I read, “Busy. Just logged on to check email and turn in my football picks.”

“They have football in Heaven, John?” I asked. I know there are a lot of other questions I should have asked first, but he kind of took me by surprise with that one. I was beginning to regret not having asked the big questions first, when fifteen minutes later he replied, “We only get the college games on ESPNH.” Figuring he must have a pretty good line, I said, “So who do you like this weekend?”

Again I kicked myself for not asking something like “What is the secret of the Universe” but he came back, faster this time, “The only one I’m sure of is USC.” I was about to mosey on over to the sports book website when he added, “I’m doing great so far, last week I was 4-7.” I took my hand off the mouse and spent a few moments contemplating how access to Eternity might not change things all that much. Then, “How about Notre Dame?” I tried to salvage something figuring this was the best shot I had.

“Notre Dame’s been blacked out here since their last losing season,” was the short and sweet reply. I imagine he felt no further explanation was needed. “Besides, they’re not included in the betting here. Nobody wants to be the one to tell the Big Guy when they lose.” Well, I guessed that made sense, so I dropped my attempts to make a fortune overnight.

“So what was it like when you got there, John?” Curiosity was beginning to really take hold in me despite the late hour.

“They didn’t know what do make of me at first, the Archangel Michael thought there might have been a clerical error. They’ve never had an investment banker here before.” I chuckled at this confirmation of my strongest suspicions. “Turns out it was all square, though, I got in on comps.”

I was trying to come to grips with that concept when he explained: “Oh not mine – I got a bunch of points transferred into my account from Suzi and Helen and all those other good people praying for me. I owe ‘em.” I had barely punched out “I’ll pass that along” when John shot back, “Do that. Got to run, got a couple of deals in the works.”

“Deals?”

“Being the first real dealmaker in the place, there’s low-hanging fruit everywhere! I’m trying to arrange a merger between the cherubim and seraphim but the financing has to come from the Other Place . . . major pain. Oh, and I’ve started dropping hints that it might not be a bad idea to let in a lawyer now that I’m here . . . I’ll keep you posted. Ciao.”

“Ciao” I typed back gratefully, but his name had already dropped off the screen . . . Next thing I knew I had nodded off, mentally compiling a list of Big Questions to ask if he popped up again . . . I woke up smiling.