The Five People

You Meet in Heaven

Mitch Albom

IEL-
I t | H Y P E R T ON I
NE.w YORK
YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU
Copyright l9l3 (Renewed)BroadwayMusic Corp, Edwin H. Morris Co., Redwood
Music Ltd. All rights on behalf of BroadwayMusic Corp administeredby Sony/ATV
Music Publishing,8 Music Square,Nashville,TN 37203.All rights reserved.Used
by permission.

Copyright @ 2003 Mitch Albom

All rights reserved.No part of this book may be used or reproducedin any manner
whatsoeverwithout the written permissionof the Publisher.Printed in the United
'V/est
Statesof America. For information address:Hyperion, 77 66th Street, New
York, New York 10023-6298.

Libnry of CongressCataloging-in-PublicationData

Albom, Mitch.

The five peopleyou meet in heaven/ Mitch Albom.

P. cm.
ISBN 0-7868-687r-6(alk. paper)
1. Accident victims-Fiction. 2. Amusementparks-Fiction. 3. Amusement
rides-Fiction. 4. Future life-Fiction. 5. Aged men-Fiction. 6. Heaven-
Fiction. ZDeath-Fiction. LTitle.
PS3601.L335F59 2003
813'.6-dc2l
2003047888

PaperbackISBN-10: 1-4013-0858-9
PaperbackISBN- 13: 978-l -4013-0E58-2

Hyperion books are availablefor specialpromotionsand premiums.For deails con-

tact Michael Rentas,Proprieary Markets,Hyperion, 77 West66th Street, 12th floor,
New York, New York 10023-629E,or call212-456-0133.

FIRST PAPERBACKEDITION

20 t9 18 17 16 15 14
This bookisdedicated
to EdwardBeitchman,my beloveduncle,
whogavememyfrst conceptof heaven. Everyyear,aroundthe
Thanksgiving table,hespokeof a nightin thehospitalwhenhe
awoketo seethesoukaf hisdepartedloyedonessittingontheedge
of thebed,waitingfir him.I never
firgot thatstory.And I neter
firgothim.
Everyonehasan ideaof heaven, asdo mostreligions,
andthey
The yersionrepresented
shouldall berespected. hereis onlya yess,
a wish,in someways,that my uncle,andotherslikehim-people
whofrb unimportanthereon edrth-realize,
fnally, howmuchthey
matteredandhowtheywereloyed.
 The Five People
You Meet in Heaven
 The End

T*rtt ISA sroRy ABour A MAN named Eddie and it begins

at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun. It might seem
strangeto start a story with an ending. But all endings are
also beginnings.We just don't know it at the time.

6\oTHELq.STHoUR of Eddie's life was spent, like most of

the others, at Ruby Pier, an amusementpark by ^ great
gray ocean.The park had the usual aftractions,a board-
walk, a Ferris wheel, roller coasters,bumper cars,a affy
stand, and an arcadewhere you could shoot streamsof
water into a clown's mouth. It also had a big new ride
called Freddy's Free Fall, and this would be where Eddie
would be killed, in an accidentthat would make newspa-
pers around the state.
lzl MrrcH ALBoM

6\0^.{TTHE TIME of his death, Eddie was a squat, white-

haired old man, with a short neck,a barrel chest,thick fore-
arms,and a faded armytattoo on his right shoulder.His legs
werethin and veined now, and his left knee, wounded in the
war, was ruined by arthritis. He used a caneto get around.
His face was broad and cragy from the sun, with salty
whiskersand a lowerjaw that protruded slightly,making him
look prouder than he felt. He kept a cigarettebehind his left
ear and a ring of keys hooked to his belt. He wore rubber-
soled shoes.He wore an old linen cap.His pale brown uni-
form suggesteda workingman, and a workingman he was.

6'oEDDIE'sJoB wAS "maintaining" the rides, which really

meant keeping them safe.Every afternoon,he walked the
park, checkingon eachattraction,from the Tilt-A-Whirl to
the Pipeline Plunge. He looked for broken boards,loose
bolts, worn-out steel.Sometimeshe would stop: his eyes
glazing over, and people walking past thought something
was wrong. But he was listening, that's all. After all these
yearshe could ltear trouble, he said, in the spits and stut-
ters and thrumming of the equipment.

c\e\rlTH 50MINUTESleft on earth, Eddie took his last walk

along Ruby Pier. He passedan elderly couple.
"Folks," he mumbled, touching his cap.
They nodded politely.Customersknew Eddie. At least
the regular ones did. They sawhim summer after summer,
 FIvE PEoPLEYou MEET rN HEAvEN t:]

one of those facesyou associatewith a place.His work shirt

had a patch on the chest that read Eoote abovethe word
MelNrpNeNCE, and sometimesthey would say, "Hiya,
Eddie Maintenance," although he never thought that was
funny.
Today,it so happened,was Eddie's birthday, his 83rd.
A docror, last week, had told him he had shingles.Shin-
gles?Eddie didn't evenknow what they were.Once, he had
been strong enough to lift a carouselhorse in each arm.
That wasa long time ago.

6-g"ppplE!" . . . "TAKEME,Eddie!" . . . "Thke me!"

For{ minutes until his death. Eddie made his way to
the front of the roller coasterline. He rode everyattracrion
at least once a week, to be certain the brakesand steering
were solid. Today was coasterday-the "Ghoster Coaster"
they calledthis one-and the kids who knew Eddie yelled to
get in the cart with him.
Children liked Eddie. Not teenagers.Genagers gave
him headaches.Over the years, Eddie figured he'd seen
everysort of do-nothing, snarl-at-youteenagerthere was.
But children weredifferent.Children looked at Eddie-who,
with his proffuding lower jaw, alwaysseemedto be grinning,
like a dolphin-and they uusted him. They drewin like cold
hands to a fire. They hugged his leg. They playedwith his
keys.Eddie mostly grunted, neversayingmuch. He figured
it wasbecausehe didn't say much that they liked him.
t+] MrrcH ALBoM

Now Eddie tapped two little boys with backwardbase-

ball caps.They raced to the cart and tumbled in. Eddie
handed his cane to the ride attendant and slowly lowered
himself betweenthe two.
"Here we go. . . . Herewego!. . ." one boy squealed,as
the other pulled Eddie's arm around his shoulder.Eddie
loweredthe lap bar and clack-clack-clack"
up they went.

6.e4 sroRy rorENTaround about Eddie. lfhen he wasa boy,

growing up by this very samepier, he got in an alleyfight.
Five kids from Pitkin Avenue had cornered his brother,
Joe, and were about to give him a beating. Eddie was a
block awalfton a stoop, eating a sandwich.He heard his
brother scream.He ran to the alley,grabbeda garbagecan
lid, and sent two boys to the hospital.
After that, Joe didn't talk to him for months. He was
ashamed. Joe wasthe oldest,the firstborn, but it wasEddie
who did the fighting.

o.o"cAN wE Go again, Eddie? Please?"

Thirty-four minutes to live. Eddie lifted the lap bar,
gave each boy a sucking candy, retrieved his cane, then
limped to the maintenanceshop to cool down from the
summer heat. Had he known his death was imminent, he
might have gone somewhereelse.Instead,he did what we
all do. He went about his dull routine as if all the davs in
the world werestill to come.
 THE FrvE pEopLE you MEET rN HEAvEN [S]

One of the shop workers,a lanky, bony-cheekedyoung

man named Domi nguez,was by the solvent sink, wiping
greaseoff a wheel.
"Yo, Eddie," he said.
"Dom," Eddie said.
The shop smelledlike sawdusLIt wasdark and cramped
with a low ceiling and pegboard walls that held drills and
sawsand. hammers. Skeleton parts of fun park rides were
everywhere:compressors,engines,belts, lightbulbs, the top
of a pirate's head. Stackedagainst one wall were coffeecans
of nails and screws,and stackedagainst another wall were
endlesstubs of grease.
Greasing a track, Eddie would say, required no more
brains than washinga dish; the only differencewasyou gor
dirtier as you did it, not cleaner.And that was the sort of
work that Eddie did: spreadgrease,adjustedbrakes,tight-
ened bolts, checkedelectrical panels. Many times he had
longed to leave this place, find different work, build an-
other kind of life. But the war came. His plans never
worked out. In time, he found himself graying and wearing
looser pants and in a state of weary acceptance,that this
was who he was and who he would alwaysbe, a man with
sand in his shoes in a world of mechanicallaughter and
grilled frankfurters. Like his father before him, like the
patch on his shirt, Eddie was maintenance-the head of
maintenance-or as the kids sometimescalled him, "the
ride man at Ruby Pier."
t6] MrrcH ALBoM

6\9THIRTY MINUTES LEFT.

"H.y, h"ppy birthday, I hear," Dominguez said.

Eddie grunted.
"No party or nothing?"
Eddie looked at him as if he werecrazy.For a moment
he thought how strangeit wasto be growing old in a place
that smelled of cofton candy.
"Well, remember,Eddie, I'm off next week, starting
Monday. Going to Mexico."
Eddie nodded, and Dominguez did a little dance.
"Me and Theresa. Gonna see the whole familv.
Par-r.t-ty."
He stoppeddancingwhen he noticed Eddie staring.
"You ever been?" Dominguez said.
"Been?tt
"To Mexico?"
Eddie exhaledthrough his nose. "Kid, I never been
anywhereI wasn't shipped to with a rtfle."
He watchedDominguez return to the sink. He thought
for a moment. Then he took a small wad of bills from his
pocket and removedthe only twentieshe had, two of them.
He held them out.
"Get your wife something nice," Eddie said.
Dominguez regardedthe money,broke into a huge smile,
ttC'mon,
and said, man.You sure?"
Eddie pushedthe moneyinto Dominguez'spalm. Then
he walked out back to the storage area.A small "fishing
hole,,
r"o ;;.":;"- ;;;, ;",::
Eddie lifted the plasdc cap.He tugged on a nylon line thar
dropped 80 feet to the sea.A piece of bologna wasstill at-
tached.
"Sfe catch anything?" Dominguez yelled. "Tell me we
caughtsomething!"
Eddie wondered how the guy could be so optimistic.
There wasnever anything on that line.
"One d^yi' Dominguez yelled,"we're gonna get a hal-
ibut!"
"Yep," Eddie mumbled, although he knew you could
never pull a fish that big through hole that small.
"

G\oTWENTY-SIX MINUTESto [ive. Eddie crossedthe board-

walk to the south end. Businesswasslow.The girl behind
the taffy counter was leaning on her elbows,popping her
gum.
Once, Ruby Pier was the placeto go in the summer. It
had elephantsand fireworks and marathon dance conresrs.
But people didn't go to oceanpiers much anymore;they
went to theme parks where you paid $75 a dcket and had
yotrr photo taken with a giant fwry charucter.
Eddie limped past the bumper carsand fixed his eyeson
a group of teenagersleaning over the railing. Great,he told
himself.Just whatI need.
"Off," Eddie said, tapping the railing with
ttCtmon.
Itts not safe.tt
t8] MrrcH ALBoM

The teensglared at him. The car poles sizzledwith elec-

Kzdpsounds.
tricity, <z<dp
"lt's not safe,"Eddie repeated.
The teens looked at each other. One kid, who wore a
streakof orangein his hair, sneeredat Eddie, then stepped
onto the middle rai[.
"Come on, dudes, hit me!" he yelled, waving at the
young drivers."Hit m-"
Eddie whackedthe railing so hard with his canehe al-
most snappedit in two. "MOVE IT!"
The teens ran awav.

6'e41g91HER SToRY\ilrENTaround about Eddie. As a soldier,

he had engagedin combatnumeroustimes.He'd beenbrave.
Even won a medal. But toward the end of his service,he got
into a fight with one of his own men. That's how Eddie was
wounded.No one knew what happenedto the other guy.
No one asked.

6\errlrH le MINUTps left on earth, Eddie sat for the last

time, in an old aluminum beachchair.His short, muscled
arms folded like a seal's flippers acrosshis chest. His
legs were red from the sun, and his left knee still showed
scars.In truth, much of Eddie's body suggesteda sur-
vived encounter.His fingers werebent at awkwardangles,
thanks to numerous fractures from assorted machinery.
His nose had been broken severaltimes in what he called
"saloon
rr;-." ;;' ;r;r;:;:;. rj:
good-looking once, the way a prizefighter might have
looked beforehe took too many punches.
Now Eddie just looked tired. This washis regular spot
on the Ruby Pier boardwalk, behind the Jackr#bit ride,
which in the 1980s was the Thunderbolt, which in the
1970swas the Steel Eel, which in the 1960swas rhe Lo[-
lipop Swings,which in the 1950swas Laff In The Dark,
and which before that wasthe Srardust Band Shell.
Sfhich waswhere Eddie met Marguerite.

6\9EVERYLIFE HAS one ffue-love snapshot. For Eddie, it

cameon a warm Septembernight after a thunderstorm,when
the boardwalkwasspongywith water.She wore a yellow cot-
ton dress,with a pink barrette in her hair. Eddie didn't say
much. He wasso nervoushe felt as if his tongue wereglued
to his teeth. They danced to rhe music of a big band, Long
Legs Delaney and his EvergladesOrchestra.He bought her
a lemon frzz. She said she had to go beforeher parenrsgor
angry.But as she walked away,she urned and waved.
That wasthe snapshot.For the rest of his life, whenever
he thought of Marguerite, Eddie would see that momenr,
her wavingover her shoulder,her dark hair falling over one
eye,and he would feel the samearrerial burst of love.
That night he came home and woke his older brother.
He told him he'd met the girl he wasgoing to marry.
"Go to sleep,Eddie," his brother groaned.
Ito] MrrcH ALBoM

A wavebroke on the beach.Eddie coughed

LI/hrnssssh.
up something he did not want to see.He spat it away.
He used to think a lot about Marguerite.
IV'hnssssssh.
Not so much now. She was like a wound beneath an old
bandage,and he had grown more used to the bandage.
Whnssssssh.
$7hat wasshingles?
L|/hrnsssssh.
Sixteen minutes to live.

c\eNo STORY
SITSby itself. Sometimesstoriesmeet at cor-
ners and sometimesthey coverone another completely,like
stonesbeneatha river.
The end of Eddie's story was touched by another
seeminglyinnocent story, months earlier-a cloudy night
when a young man arrived at Ruby Pier with three of his
friends.
The young man, whose name was Nicky, had just be-
gun driving and was still not comfortable carrying a key
chain. So he removedthe single car key and put it in his
jacket pocket, then tied the jacket around his waist.
For the next few hours. he and his friends rode all the
fastestrides: the Flying Falcon, the Splashdown,Freddy's
Free Fall, the Ghoster Coaster.
"Hands in the air!" one of them ye[[ed.
They threw their hands in the air.
Late4 when it was dark, they returned to the car lot,
 FIVE PEopLE you MEET rN HEAvEN [tr]

exhaustedand laughing, drinking beer from brown paper

bags.Ncky reachedinto his jacket pocket.He fished around.
He cursed.
The key wasgone.

G\9FOURTEEN MINUTESUNTIL hiS dEAth.Eddic WiPCdhiS

brow with a handkerchief.Out on the ocean,diamonds of
sunlight danced on the wate\ and Eddie stared at their
nimble movement.He had not been right on his feet since
the war.
But back at the Stardust Band Shell with Marguerite-
there Eddie had still been graceful.He closedhis eyesand
allowedhimself to summon the songthat brought them to-
gether, the one J"dy Garland sang in that movie. It mixed
in his head now with the cacophonyof the crashingwaves
and childrenscreamingon the rides.
ttYou
made me love you-"
Whsssshhhh.
"-do it, I didn'twant to do i-"
Sp IIIllaaaaashhhhhhh.
tt-me
love you-t'
Eeeeeeee!
"-time you knew it, and all the-"
Chhhhewisshhhh.
tt-knewit...tt

Eddie felt her handson his shoulders.He squeezedhis

eyestightly, to bring the memory closer.
Itr] MrrcH ALBoM

G\9TWELVE MINUTESTO live.

tttScuse
me.tt
A young girl, maybeeight yearsold, stood beforehim,
blocking his sunlight. She had blonde curls and wore flip-
flops and denim cutoffshorts and a lime greenT:shirt with
a cartoon duck on the front. A-y, he thought her name
was.Amy or Annie. She'd been here a lot this summer, al-
though Eddie never sawa mother or father.
"'scuuus e me," she said again. "Eddie Maint'nance?"
'Just
Eddie sighed. Eddie," he said.
"Eddie?"
"um hmm?"
"Can you make me . . ."
She put her hands together as if praying.
"C'mon, kiddo. I don't have all day."
"Can you make me an animal?Canyou?"
Eddie looked up, as if he had to think about it. Then
he reachedinto his shirt pocket and pulled out three yellow
pipe cleaners,which he carriedfor just this purpose.
"Yesssss!"the little girl said, slappingher hands.
Eddie begantwisting the pipe cleaners.
ttWherets
your parents?"
"Riding the rides."
"\Without you?"
The girl shrugged."My mom's with her boyfriend."
Eddie looked up. Oh.
 'rvE PEoPLE You MEET IN HEAvEN
ltg]

He bent the pipe cleanersinto severalsmall loops,

then twisted the loops around one another. His hands
shook now, so it took longer than it used to, but soon the
pipe cleanersresembleda head, ears,body, and tail.
'A
rabbit?" the little girl said.
Eddie winked.
"Thaaaankyou!"
lost in that placewhere kids don't even
She spun awarft
know their feet arc moving. Eddie wiped his brow again,
then closed his eyes,slumped into the beach chair, and
tried to get the old song back into his head.
A seagullsquawkedas it flew overhead.

6\eHo!7 Do PEOPLE
choosetheir final words?Do they re-
alize their gravity? Are they fated to be wise?
By his 83rd birthday, Eddie had lost nearly everyone
he'd caredabout.Some had died young, and somehad been
given a chanceto grow old before a diseaseor an accident
took them away.Attheir funerals,Eddie listenedas mourn-
"It's asif heknewhewas
ers recalledtheir final conversations.
goingtodie.. . ." somewould say.
Eddie neverbelievedthat. As far as he could tell, when
your time came,it came,and that was that. You might say
something smart on your way out, but you might just as
easilysaysomethingstupid.
For the record,Eddie'sfinal wordswould be "Get back!"
It+] MrrcH ALBoM

c'oHEREARETHEsoundsof Eddie's last minuteson earth.

Waves crashing.The distant thump of rock music. The
whirring engine of a small biplane, dragging an ad ftom
its tail. And this.
..OH
MY GOD! LOOK!''
Eddie felt his eyes dart beneath his [ids. Over the
years,he had come to know everynoise at Ruby Pier and
could sleepthrough them all like a lullaby.
This voice wasnot in the lullaby.
..OH
MY GOD! LOOK!''
Eddie bolted upright. A woman with fat, dimpled
arms was holding a shopping b"g and pointing and
screaming.A small crowd gatheredaround her, their eyes
to the skies.
Eddie saw it immediately.Atop Freddy'sFree Fall, the
new "tower drop" attraction,one of the cartswastilted at an
two
angle, as if trying to dump its cargo.Four passengers,
men, two women, held only by a safetybar, were grabbing
frantically at anything they could.
"OH MY GOD!" the fat woman yelled. "THOSE
PEOPLE! THEY'RE GONNA EALL!''
A voice squawkedfrom the radio on Eddie's belt.
"Eddie! Eddie!"
He pressedthe button. "I seeit! Get security!"
People ran up from the beach,pointing as if they had
ride
practiced this drill. Look! Up in the sky!An amusement
turnedevil! Eddie grabbed his cane and clomped to the
sarery
o".";,;-;:., ;', ; ;;, I
gling againsthis hip. His hearr wasracing.
Freddy's Free Fall was supposedto drop rwo carrs in a
stomach-churningdescent,only to be halted at the last in-
stant by a gush of hydraulic air.How did one carr come loose
like that? It was tilted jusr a few feet below the upper plat-
form, as if it had started downwardthen changedits mind.
Eddie reachedthe gate and had to catch his breath.
Domingu ez camerunning and nearly banged into him.
"Listen to me!" Eddie said, grabbing Dominguez by
the shoulders.His grip was so tight, Domingu ez made a
pained face."Listen to me! Who's up there?"
"\)7illie."
"OK. He must'vehit the emergencystop.That's why the
cart is hanging. Get up the ladder and tell Willie to manually
releasethe safetyrestrainrso those peoplecan get out. OK?
It's on the backof the carr,so you'rcgonnahaveto hold him
while he leans out there. OK? Then . . . then, the two of
ya's-the two of ya's now,not one, you got it?-the two of ya's
get them out! One holds the other! Got it!? . . . Gotit?"
Dominguez nodded quickly.
"Then send that damn cart down so we can figure out
what happened!"
Eddie's head was pounding. Although his park had
been free of any major accidents,he knew the horror stories
of his business.Once, in Brighton, a bolt unfastenedon a
gondola ride and two people fell to their death. Another
It6] MrrcH ALBoM

time, in Wonderland Park, a man had tried to walk acrossa

roller coastertrack; he fell through and got stuck beneath
his armpits. He was wedged in, screaming,and the cars
cameracing towardhim and . . . well, that wasthe worst.
Eddie pushed that from his mind. There were people
all around him now, hands over their mouths, watching
Dominguez climb the ladder. Eddie tried to rememberthe
insides of Freddy's Free FaIl. Engine.Cylinders.Hydraulics.
Seak.Cables.How does a cart come loose?He followed the
ride visually, from the four frightened people at the top,
down the towering shaft, and into the base.Engine.Cylin-
derc.Hydraulics.Seals.
Cables.. . .
Dominguez readredthe upper platform. He did asEddie
told him, holding Willie as STillie leanedtoward the back of
the cart to releasethe restraint. One of the female riders
lunged for Willie and nearlypulled him offthe platform. The
crowd gasped.
"W'ait . . ." Eddie said to himself.
Willie tried again. This time he popped the safety
release.
"Cable . . ." Eddie mumbled.
'Ahhhhh."
The bar lifted and the crowd went The rid-
ers werequickly pulled to the platform.
"The cableis unrateling.. . ."
And Eddie was right. Inside the baseof Freddy's Free
Fall, hidden from view,the cablethat lifted Cart No. 2 had,
for the last few months, been scrapingacrossa locked pul-
 u MEET IN HEAvEN Itll

ley. Becauseit was locked, the pulley had gradually ripped

the cable'ssteel wires-as if husking an ear of corn-until
they were nearly severed.No one noticed. How could they
notice? Only someonewho had crawledinside the mecha-
nism would haveseenthe unlikely causeof the problem.
The pulley was wedged by ^ small object that must
havefallen through the opening at a most precisemoment.
A car key.

o-e"DON'TRELEASE
THE CART!" Eddie yelled. He waved
his arms."HEY! HEEEEY! IT'S THE CABLE! DON'T
RELEASE THE CART! IT'LL SNAP!''
The crowd drownedhim out. It cheeredwildly asSTillie
and Dominguez unloaded the final rider. Al[ four weresafe.
They hugged atop the platform.
"DOM! ITILLIE!" Eddie yelled.Someonebanged
againsthis waist, knocking his walkie-talkieto the ground.
Eddie bent ro get it. \X/illie went ro rhe controls.He put his
finger on the green button. Eddie looked up.
"NO, NO, NO, DON'T!"
Eddie turned to the crowd."GET BACK!"
Something in Eddie's voice must have caught the peo-
p[e's attention;they stopped cheeringand beganto scatter.
An opening clearedaround the bottom of Freddy'sFreeFall.
And Eddie sawthe last face of his life.
She was sprawled upon the ride's metal base, as if
someonehad knocked her into it, her nose running, tears
It8] MrrcH ALBoM

filling her eyes,the little girl with the pipe-cleaneranimal.

Amy? Annie?
"Ma. . . Mom . . . Mom . . ." she heaved,almostrhyth-
mically, her body frczen in the paralysisof crying children.
"Ma. . . Mom.. . Ma. . . Mom..."
Eddie's eyesshot from her to the carts. Did he have
time? Her to the carts-
Whump.Too late. The carts were dropping-Jo*, he re-
thebrake!-andfor Eddie, everythingslipped into watery
Ieased
motion. He dropped his caneand pushed off his bad leg and
felt a shot of pain that almostknockedhim down.A big step.
Another step.Inside the shaft of Freddy'sFreeFa[l, the cable
snappedits final thread and ripped acrossthe hydraulic line.
Cart No. 2 wasin a dead drop noq nothing to stop it, a boul-
der off a cliff.
In thosefinal moments,Eddie seemedto hear the whole
world: distant screaming,waves,music,a rush of wind, a low,
[oud, ugly sound that he realizedwashis own voice blasting
through his chest. The little girl raised her arms. Eddie
lunged. His bad leg buckled. He half flew, half stumbled
toward her, landing on the metal platform, which ripped
through his shirt and split open his skin, just beneaththe
patch that read Eoots and MnINTENANCE.He felt mo
hands in his own, two small hands.
A stunning impact.
A blinding flash of light.
And then, nothing.
Today Is Eddie'sBirthday

It is the 1920s, hospitalin oneof thepoorestsections

a crowded of
the city.Eddie\ fdthersmokes in thewaitingroont,where
cigarettes
The nurseenterswitha
theotherfatltersarealsosmokingcigarettes.
clipboard.Shecalk hisname.Shemispronouncesit. The othermen
blowsmoke.Well?
He raiseshishand.
"Congratuktions,"ilte nursesays.
His
He followsherdownthehallwayto thenewborns'nursery.
clapon thefloor
shoes
"Wait here,"sltesays.
Throughtheglass,lteseeshercheckthenumbers
of thewooden
pastone,not his,anotlter,not his,anotlter,not his,
cribs.Shemoves
anotlter,not his.
There.Beneaththeblanket.A tiny headcovered
Shestops. in a
herclipboardagain,thenpoints.
bluecap.Shechecks
Thefatherbreathes heavily,nodshisheadFora moment,hisface
to cnrmblc,likea bridgecolkpsingintoa iver Thenhesmiles.
seems
His.
 T h e Jor rney

Erort sA$r NoTHING oF HIS FINAL MoMENT on earth,

nothing of the pier or the crowd or the shatteredfiber-
glass cart.
In the storiesabout life after death, the soul often floats
above the good-bye moment, hovering over police cars at
highwayaccidents,or clinging like a spider to hospital-room
ceilings.These are peoplewho receivea secondchance,who
somehow,for somereason,resumetheir placein the world.
Eddie, it appeared,wasnot getting a secondchance.

6\ewHERE...?
W h e r e . .?.
W h e r e . .?.
The sky was a misty pumpkin shade, then a deep
 u MEET rN HEAVEN Izr]

turquoise, then a bright lime. Eddie was floating, and his

arms werestill extended.
Iil/here. .. ?
The tower cart was falling. H" rememberedthat. The
little girl-Amy? Annie?-she was crying. He remembered
that. He rememberedlunging. He rememberedhitting the
platform. He felt her two small hands in his.
Thenwhat?
Did I sateher?
Eddie could only picture it at a distance,as if it hap-
pened yearsago. Stranger still, he could not feelany emo-
tions that went with it. He could only feel calm, like a child
in the cradle of its mother's arms.
II/here... ?
The sky around him changedagain, to grapefruit yel-
low, then a forest green,then a pink that Eddie momentar-
ily associatedwith, of all things, cotton candy.
Did I sateher?
Did shelive?
Where...
. . .it *y worry?
Wherek mypain?
That was what was missing. Every hurt he'd ever suf-
fered, everyachehe'd everendured-it wasall as gone as an
expired breath. He could not feel agony.He could not feel
sadness.His consciousness felt smoky, wisplike, incapable
of anything but calm. Below him now, the colors changed
I,zzl MrrcH ALBoM

again. Something was swirling. Water. An ocean.He was

floating over a vast yellow sea.Now it turned melon. Now
it wassapphire.Now he beganto drop, hurtling towardthe
surface.It wasfaster than anything he'd ever imagined, yet
there wasn't as much as abreezeon his face,and he felt no
6ar. He saw the sandsof a golden shore.
Then he wasunder water.
Then everythingwassilent.
LI/hereit *y worry?
Whereis mypain?
Todav Is Eddie'sBirthday

He isfive yearsold.It is a Sundayafternoonat RubyPier.

Picnictablesaresetalongthe boardwalk,whichoverlooks the
Iongwhitebeach.Thereis a vanillacakewith bluewaxcandles.
Thereis a bowlof orangejuice.The pierworkersare milling
about,the barfters,
thesideshow
acts,the animaltrainers,some
menfrom thefishery.Eddie'sfather,asusual,is in a cardgame.
Eddiepkyt at hisfeet. His olderbrother,Joe,
is doingpush-ups
in front of a groupof elderlywomen,whofeign interestand
clappolitely.
birthdaygtft,o redcowboyhatanda toy
Eddieis wearinghis
holsterHe getsup andrunsfom onegroupto thenext,pullingout
thetoygunandgoing "Bang bang!"
"C'mereboy,"MickE Sheabeckons
from a bench.
"Bang bang" goesEddie.
MickeySheaworkswith Eddie'sdad,f.xing the rides.He k
fat andwedrssuspendersand is always
singinglrkh songs.'To
Eddie,hesmellsfunny, Iikecoughmedicine.
"C'mere.Lemmedoyour birthdaybumps,"hesays."Like we
do in lreland."
Mickey'slargehandrareunderEddie'sarmpir and
Suddenly,
l"+l MrrcH ALBoM

heishoisted up,thenflippedoyeranddangled bythefeet.Eddie's

hatfalk off,
"Careful, Mickey!"Eddie'smother yells.Eddie'sfatherlooks
up,smirks, thenreturns to hiscardgame.
"Ho,lto.Igot'im,"Mickeysays. "Now.Onebirthday bump
for every year."
Mickeylowers Eddiegently,untilhisheadbrushes thef.oor
"One!"
Mickeylifs Eddiebackup.Theothers join in,laughing. They
yell,"Th,o! ... Three!"
Upsidedown,Eddieisnotsurewhoiswho.His headisgetting
hearyt.
"Four!..." theyshout. "Five!"
Eddieisflippedright-side upandput down.Everybody ckps.
Eddiereaches fir hishat,thenstumbles overHe gets up,wobbles to
MickeyShea, andpunches himin thearm.
"Ho-ho!Whatwasthatfor,littleman?"Mickeymys.Every-
onelaughs. Eddieturnsandrunsdway, threesteps,brfonbeing
swept intohis motlter'sdrms.
'l4re allright,my boy?"Sheisonlyinches
you darlingbirthday
fom hisface.He sees lterdeepredlipstickandherplump,sof cheeks
andthewave ofherauburnhair.
"I wasupside down,"hetellshen
"I sawr" shesays.
Sheputshishatbackonhishead. Later,shewillwalkhim
alongthe pier,perhaps takehimondnelephant ride,or watchthe
fshermenp'),"^',0'0,'),)*","^',r",',,),'),1),,
coins.Shewill holdhishandandtellhimGodisproudof him
fir beingagoodboyonhisbirthday,andthatwill maketheworld
feelrighrsideupagain.
 The Ar rtval

EoortAlroKE rN A TEACUP.
It was apart of some old amusementpark ride-a latge
teacup, made of dark, polished wood, with a cushioned
seat and a steel-hingeddoor. Eddie's arms and legs dan-
gled over the edges.The sky continued to changecolors,
from a shoe-leatherbrown to a deep scarlet.
His instinct was to reach for his cane.He had kept it
by his bed the last few years,becausethere weremornings
when he no longer had the strength to get up without it.
This embarrassedEddie, who used to punch men in the
shoulderswhen he greetedthem.
But now there wasno cane,so Eddie exhaledand tried
to pull himself up. Surprisingly,his back did not hurt. His
leg did not throb. He yanked harder and hoisted himself
 THE FrvE pEopLE you MEET IN HEAvDN lrzl

easily over the edge of the teacup, landing awkwardly on

the ground, where he was struck by three quick thoughts.
First, he felt wonderful.
Second,he wasall alone.
Third, he wasstill on Ruby Pier.
But it was a different Ruby Pier now. There were can-
vastents and vacantgrassysectionsand so few obstructions
you could seethe mossybreakwaterout in the ocean.The
colors of the attractions were firehouse reds and ffeamy
whites-no teals or maroons-and each ride had its own
wooden ticket booth. The teacup he had awoken in was
part of a primitive attraction called Spin-O-Rama.Its sign
wasplywood, as werethe other low-slung signs,hinged on
storefrontsthat lined the promenade:

ElTiempo
Cigars!Now,
That's
a Smoke!
10cents!
Chowder,
Ridethel4/hipper-TheSensation
of theAge!

Eddie blinked hard. This was the Ruby Pier of his child-
hood, some 75 yearcago, only everything was new, freshly
scrubbed.Over there was the Loop-the-Loop ride-which
had been torn down decadesago-and over there the bath'
houses and the saltwater swimming pools that had been
ruzedin the 1950s.Over there,jutting into the sky,wasthe
original Ferris wheel-in its pristine white paint-and be-
yond that, the streets of his old neighborhood and the
Ir8] MrrcH ALBoM

rooftops of the crowded brick tenements, with laundry

lines hanging from the windows.
Eddie tried to yell, but his voice was raspy afu.He
mouthed a "Hey!" but nothing camefrom his throat.
He grabbed at his arms and legs. Aside from his lack
of voice, he felt incredible. He walked in a circle. He
jumped. No pain. In the last ten years,he had forgotten
what it was like to walk without wincing or to sit without
struggling to find comfort for his lower back. On the out-
side, he looked the same as he had that morning: a squat,
barrel-chestedold man in a cap and shorts and a brown
maintenancejersey.But he waslimber.So limber, in fact, he
could touch behind his ankles, and raisea leg to his belly.
He exploredhis body like an infant, fascinatedby the new
mechanics,a rubber man doing a rubber man stretch.
Then he ran.
Ha-ha! Running! Eddie had not ffuly run in more than
60 years,not since the war, but he was running now, start-
ing with a few gingerly steps, then acceleratinginto a full
gait, faster,faster,like the running boy of his youth. He ran
along the boardwalk,past a bait-and-tacklestand for fisher-
men (five cents) and a bathing suit rental stand for swim-
mers (three cents). He ran past a chute ride called The
Dipsy Doodle. He ran along the Ruby Pier Promenade,be-
neath magnificentbuildings of Moorish design,with spires
and minarets and onion-shapeddomes. He ran past the
ParisianCarousel,with its carvedwoodenhorses,glassmir-
r.rs,
and
;;";;:;' ffi:-;';- i":]
ago, it seemed,he had been scrapingrust from its piecesin
his shop.
He ran down the heart of the old midway,where the
weight guessers,fortune-tellers, and dancing gypsies had
once worked. He lowered his chin and held his arms out
like a glider, and every few steps he would jump, the way
children do, hoping running will turn to flying. It might
have seemed ridiculous to anyone watching, this white-
haired maintenanceworker, all alone, making like an air-
plane. But the running boy is inside everyman, no matter
how old he gets.

6\eAND THEN EDDIE stopped running. He heard some-

thing. A voice,tinny, as if coming through a megaphone.
"How about him, Iadiesand gentlemen?
Hate you everseen
sucha honiblesight?. . ."
Eddie wasstandingby an empty ticket kiosk in front of
a large theater. The sign above read

The World'sMost CuriousCitizens.

RubyPier\ Sideshow!
HolySmoke
! They'reFat! TheyTeSkinny
!
thel[/ild Man!
See

The sideshow.The freakhouse.The ballyhoohall.Ed-

die recalledthem shuttingthis downat least50 yearsago,
Ito] MrrcH ALBoM

about the time television became popular and people

didn't need sideshowsto tickle their imagination.
"Look well uponthk savage,
born into a mostpeculiarhand-
icap..."
Eddie peeredinto the entrance.He had encountered
some odd people here. There wasJolly Jane, who weighed
over 500 pounds and neededtwo men to push her up the
stairs.There wereconjoinedtwin sisters,who shareda spine
and playedmusicalinstruments.There weremen who swa[-
lowed swords,women with beards, and a pair of Indian
brotherswhoseskin went rubbery from being stretchedand
soakedin oils, until it hung in bunchesfrom their limbs.
Eddie, as a child, had felt sorry for the sideshowcast.
They wereforcedto sit in boothsor on stages,sometimesbe-
hind bars,aspatronswalkedpast them, leeringand pointing.
A barker would ballyhoo the oddiry and it was a barker's
voice that Eddie heard now.
"Oolya teniblenkt offatecouldleave
a manin suchapitiful
condition!From thefarthestcornerof the world,we hate brought
himfrr yourexdmination.
. . ."
Eddie enteredthe darkenedhall. The voice grew louder.
"This tragicsoulhasendureda perversion
of nature.. . ."
It wascoming from the other side of a stage.
canyoudraw
"Only ltere,at the World\ Most CuriousCitiqens,
tltisnear..."
Eddie pulled asidethe curtain.
"Feastyoureyesuponthemostunus-"
 rr";:,;-.";;.,;;"rJ:
in disbelief.
There, sitting in a chair, alone on the stage,wasa mid-
dle-agedman with narroq stooped shoulders,naked from
the waist up. His belly saggedover his belt. His hair was
closely cropped. His lips were thin and his face was long
and drawn. Eddie would have long since forgotten him,
wereit not for one distinctive feature.
His skin wasblue.
"Hel[o, Edward," he said."l havebeenwaiting for you."
 T h e F i r s t P e r s o nE d d i e
M e e t si n H e a v e n

"Do*', BEAFRAID.. . ." THE BLUEMAN said, rising slowly

from his chair. "Don't be afraid. . . ."
His voicewassoothing,but Eddie could only stare.He
had barely known this man. IThy was he seeinghim now?
F{e waslike one of those facesthat pops into your dreams
and the next morning you say, "You'[l never guesswho I
dreamedabout last night."
"Your body feelslike a child's, right?"
Eddie nodded.
"You were a child when you knew me, that's why. You
start with the samefeelingsyou had."
Startwhat?Eddie thought.
The Blue Man lifted his chin. His skin wasa grotesque
shade,a graying blueberry. His fingers were wrinkled. He
 FIVE PEoPLE You MEET rN HEAvEN [l:]

walked outside. Eddie followed. The pier was empry. The

beachwasempty. Was the entire planet empty?
"Tell me somethittg,"the Blue Man said.He pointed to
a two-humped wooden roller coasterin the disrance.The
$fhipper. It was built in the 1920s,before under-friction
wheels,meaning the carscouldn't turnvery quickly-unless
you wantedthem launching offthe track. "The Whipper. Is
it still the 'fastestride on eafth'?"
Eddie looked ar the old clanking thing, which had
been torn down yearsago. He shook his head no.
'4h,"
the Blue Man said. "l imagined as much. Things
don't changehere.And there's none of that peering down
from the clouds, I'm afraid."
Here?Eddie thought.
The Blue Man smiled as if he'd heard the question.He
touched Eddie's shoulder and Eddie felt a surgeof warmth
unlike anything he had ever felt before.His thoughts came
spifiing our like sentences.
How did I die?
'An
accident," the Blue Man said.
How longhaveI beendead?
'A
minute. An hour. A thousand years."
Wheream I?
The Blue Man pursedhis lips, then repeatedthe ques-
tion thoughtfully. "Where are you?" He turned and raised
his arms. All at once, the rides at the old Ruby Pier
cranked to life: The Ferris wheel spun, the Dodgem Cars
Il+] MITcH ALBoM

smackedinto each other, the Whipper clackeduphill, and

the ParisianCarouselhorsesbobbedon their brasspolesto
the cheerymusic of the Wurlitzer organ.The oceanwasin
front of them. The sky wasthe color of lemons.
"'Wheredo you think?" the Blue Man asked."Heaven."

6\eNo/ EDDIEsHooK his head violently. NO/ The Blue

Man seemedamused.
"No? It can't be heaven?"he said."Why? Becausethis
is whereyou grew,rp?"
Eddie mouthed the word Yes.
'Ah."
The Blue Man nodded."Well. Peopleoften belittle
the placewhere they wereborn. But heavencan be found in
the most unlikely corners.And heavenitself has many stePs.
This, for me, is the second.And for you, the first."
He led Eddie through the park, passingcigar shopsand
sausagestandsand the "flat joints," wheresuckerslost their
nickelsand dimes.
Heaven? Eddie thought. Ridiculous.He had spent most
of his adult life trying to get awayfrom Ruby Pier. It was an
amusementpark, that's al[, a place to screamand get wet
and trade your dollars for kewpie dolls. The thought that
this wassome kind of blessedresting place wasbeyond his
imagination.
He tried again to speak,and this time he heard a small
grunt from his chest.The Blue Man turned.
 THE FrvE pEopLE you MEET rN HEAvEN [lS]

"Your voicewill come.We all go through the samething.

You cannot talk when you first anive."
He smiled."lt helps you listen."

o-o"111ppE
AREFIVEpeople you meet in heaven,"the Blue
Man suddenlysaid."Each of us wasin yourlife for a reason.
You may not haveknown the reasonat the time, and that is
what heavenis for. For understanding your life on eafth."
Eddie looked confused.
"People think of heavenas a paradisegarden, a place
wherethey can float on clouds and lazein riversand moun-
tains. But scenerywithout solaceis meaningless.
"This is the greatestgift God can give you: ro under-
stand what happenedin your life. To haveit explained.It is
the peaceyou havebeen searchingfor."
Eddie coughed,trying to bring up his voice.He was
tired of being silent.
"I am your first person,Edward. \il7henI died, my life
wasilluminated by five others,and then I camehere to wait
for you, to stand in your line, to te[[ you my srory,which be-
comespart of yours.There will be othersfor you, too. Some
you knew,maybesomeyou didn't. Bur they all crossedyour
path beforethey died. And they alteredit forever."
Eddie pushed a sound up from his chest, as hard as
he could.
"$7hat . . ." he finally croaked.
[:0] MrrcH ALBoM

His voiceseemedto be breakingthrougha shell,like a

babychick.
"S7hat...killed..."
The Blue Man waitedpatiently.
"'What . . . killed . . . you?"
The Blue Man lookeda bit surprised.He smiledat
Eddie.
"Youdid." he said.
Today Is Eddie'sBirthday

He isseyen
yedrsold andhisgif isa newbaseball.
He squeezes
it in
eachhand,feelingdsurgeofpowerthat runsup hisarms.He imag-
inesheis oneof hisheroes
on the CrackerJack
collectorcards,
maybethegreatpitcherlVaherJohnson.
"Here, tossit," hisbrotherrJoe,
says.
Theyarerunningalongthe
midway,
pastthegdmebooth
where,ifyou knockoyertltreegreenbottles,youwina coconutand
a straw.
"Comeon,Eddier"Joesays."Share."
Eddiestops,and imagineshimselfin a stadium.He throws
theball.His brotherpullsin hiselbows
andducks.
"Toohard!"Joe yells.
"My ball!"Eddiescrectms. "Dangyou,Jor."
Eddiewatches it thumpdowntheboardwalkand bangofa
postinto a smallclearingbehind
thesideshow
tents.He runsafier it.
Joefillows.Theydropto theground.
"Youseeit?" Eddiesays.
"Nuh-ult."
A whumpingnoise intenupts
them.A tentflap opens.
Eddie
andJoe lookup.Thereisa grossly
fat woman anda shirtless
man
withreddishhair coveringhis
entirebody.Freaks
from thefeakshow.
Thechildren
feeze.
Ilg] MrrcH ALBoM

"14/hatcffeyouwiseacres thehairymansdys,
doin' backhere?"
grinning."Lookin'frr nouble?"
He startsto cry.He jumpsup andrunsdway,
Joe'slip trembles.
hisarmspumpingriw.Eddie rises,too,thenseeshisballagainst
a sawltorse.
He eyestheshirtless slowlytowardit.
manand moves
"This is mine,"hemumbles. up theballandruns
He scooPs
afer hisbrother.
6\o((LISTEN, MISTER," EDDIE rasped,"I never killed
you, OK? I don't evenknowyou."
The Blue Man sat on a bench. He smiled as if trying
to put a guest at ease.Eddie remainedstandingra defensive
posture.
"Let me begin with my real name," the Blue Man said.
"I waschristenedJosephCorvelzchik,the son of a tailor in
a small Polish village. S7ecame to America in 1894. I was
only a boy. My mother held me over the railing of the ship
and this becamemy earliestchildhood memory,my mother
swinging me in thebreezesof a new world.
"Like most immigrants, we had no money.We slept on
a mattressin my uncle's kitchen. My father was forced to
take a job in a sweatshop,sewingbuftons on coars.SThenI
wasten, he took me from schooland I joined him."
Eddie watchedthe Blue Man's pitted face,his thin lips,
his saggingchest. Why ishe tellingmethis?Eddie thought.
"I was a nervouschild by nature, and the noise in the
shop only made things worse.I wastoo young to be rhere,
amongstall those men, swearingand complaining.
"$Theneverthe foreman camenear, my father told me,
'Look
down. Don't make him notice you.' Once, however,I
stumbled and dropped a sackof buttons, which spilled over
[+o] MrrcH ALBoM

the floor. The foreman screamedthat I was worthless, a

worthlesschild, that I must go. I can still seethat moment,
my father pleading with him like a street beggar,the fore-
man sneering,wiping his nosewith the back of his hand. I
felt my stomachtwist in pain. Then I felt somethingwet on
my leg. I looked down. The foreman pointed at my soiled
pants and laughed,and the other workerslaughed,too.
'After
that, my father refusedto speakto me. He felt I
had shamedhim, and I suppose,in his world, I had. But
fathers can ruin their sons,and I was,in a fashion, ruined
after that. I was a nervous child, and when I grew, I was a
nervous young man. Worst of all, at night, I still wet the
bed. In the morningsI would sneakthe soiledsheetsto the
washbasinand soakthem. One morning, I lookedup to see
my father. He sawthe dirty sheets,then glared at me with
eyesthat I will never forget, as if he wished he could snap
the cord of life betweenus."
The Blue Man paused.His skin, which seemedto be
soakedin blue fluid, folded in small fatty layersaround his
belt. Eddie couldn't help staring.
"l was not alwaysa freak, Edward," he said. "But back
then, medicine was rather primitive. I went to a chemist,
seekingsomething for my nerves.He gave me a bottle of
silver nitrate and told me to mix it with water and take it
everynight. Silver nitrate. It waslater consideredpoison. But
it was all I had, and when it failed to work, I could only as-
 u MEET rN HEAvEN [+t]

sume I was not ingesting enough. So I took more. I swal-

lowed two gulps and sometimesrhree, with no water.
"Soon, people were looking ar me strangely.My skin
wasturning the color of ash.
"I was ashamed and agitated. I swallowedeven more
silver nitrate, until my skin wenr from grayto blue, a side
effect of the poison."
The BlueMan paused.
His voicedropped."The factory
dismissedme. The foremansaid I scaredthe other workers.
lVithout work, how would I eat?Where would I live?
"I found a saloon,a dark placewhereI could hide be-
neath a hat and coat. One night, a group of carnival men
werein the back. They smoked cigars.They laughed. One
of them, a rather small fellow with a woodenleg, kept look-
ing at me. Finally, he approached.
"By the end of the night, I had agreedto join rheir car-
nival. And my life as a commodity had begun."
Eddie noticed the resignedlook on rhe Blue Man's
face. He had often wondered where the sideshow cast
came from. He assumedthere was a sad srory behind
everyone of them.
"The carnivalsgaveme my names,Edward.Sometimes
I wasthe Blue Man of the North Pole,or the Blue Man of
Algeria, or the Blue Man of New Zealand. I had never
been to anyof theseplaces,of course,but it waspleasantto
be consideredexotic,if only on a painted sign.The 'show'
l+rl MrrcH ALBoM

wassimple.I would sit on the stage,half undressed,as peo-

ple walked past and the barker told them how pathetic I
was. For this, I was able to put a few coins in my pocket.
The manageronce called me the'best freak' in his stable,
and, sad as it sounds,I took pride in that. When you are
an outcast,evena tossedstone can be cherished.
"One winter, I came to this pier. Ruby Pier. They were
startinga sideshowcalledThe Curious Citizens.I liked the
idea of being in one place,escapingthe bumpy horsecarts
of carnival life.
"This became my home. I lived in a room above a
sausageshop. I played cards at night with the other
sideshowworkers,with the tinsmiths, sometimesevenwith
your father. In the earlymornings, if I wore long shirts and
draped my head in a towel, I could walk along this beach
without scaringpeople. It may not sound like much, but
for me, it wasa freedom I had rarclyknown."
He stopped.He looked at Eddie.
"Do you understand?Why we'rehere?This is not your
heaven.It's mine."

6\eTAKEoNE SToRXviewed from two different angles.

Thkea rainySunday morning inJuly, in the late 1920s,
when Eddie and his friends are tossing a baseballEddie
got for his birthd ay nearlya yearago.Thkea moment when
that ball flies over Eddie's head and out into the street.
Eddie, wearingtawny pants and a wool cap, chasesafter it,
andruns;;J""iJ,";;il
car screeches,veers,and just misseshim. He shivers,ex-
hales,getsthe ball, and racesback to his friends. The game
soon ends and the children run to the arcadeto play the
Erie Digger machine, with its claw-like mechanism that
picks up small toys.
Now take that same srory from a different angle. A
man is behind rhe wheel of a Ford Model A, which he has
borrowed from a friend to pracricehis driving. The road is
wet from the morning rain. Suddenly, a baseballbounces
acrossthe street,and a boy comesracingafter it. The driver
slams on the brakes and yanks the wheel. The car skids,
the tires screech.
The man somehowregainscontrol, and the Model A
rolls on. The child has disappearedin the rearviewmirror,
but the man'sbody is still affected,thinking of how closehe
came to tragedy.The jolt of adrenalinehas forced his heart
to pump furiously and this heart is not a strongone and the
pumping leaveshim drained. The man feels dizzy and his
head drops momentarily. His automobile nearly collides
with another.The seconddriver honks, the man veersagain,
spinning the wheel, pushing on the brake pedal. He skids
along an avenuethen turns down an alley. His vehicle rolls
until it collides with the rear of a parked truck. There is a
small crashing noise. The headlights shatter.The impact
smacks the man into the steering wheel. His forehead
bleeds.He stepsfrom the Model A, seesrhe damage,then
l++l MrrcH ALBoM

collapsesonto the wet pavement.His arm throbs. His chest

hurts. It is Sunday morning. The alleyis empty. He remains
there, unnoticed, slumped againstthe side of the car. The
blood from his coronary artedesno longer flows to his heart.
An hour passes.A policemanfinds him. A medical exam-
iner pronounceshim dead. The causeof death is listed as
"heart attack." There are no known relatives.
Thke one story, viewed from ffio different angles. It is
the same day, the same moment, but one angle ends h"P-
pily, at an arcade,with the linle boy in tawny pants drop-
pirg penniesinto the Erie Digger machine,and the other
endsbadly,in a city morgue,whereone worker callsanother
worker over to marvel at the blue skin of the newestarrival.
"You see?"the Blue Man whispered,havingfinishedthe
story from his point of view."Little boy?"
Eddie felt a shiver.
"Oh no," he whispered.
Today Is Eddie'sBirthday

He is eightyearsold.He sitson theedgeof a plaid couclt,hisarms

crossed His father
in anger.His motheris at hisfeet,Uinghisshoes.
is at themirror,fxinghis tie.
"I don't WANT to go,"Eddiesays.
not lookingup,"but wehaveto.
"I know,"hismothersctys,
you hateto do thingswhensadthingshappen."
Sometimes
"But it'smyBIRTHDAY."
Eddie looksmournfullydcross theroomat theerectorsetin the
corner,a pile of toymetalgirdersandthreesmallrubberwheels. Ed-
die hadbeenmakingatruck He isgoodatputtingthingstogether.
He hadhopedto showit to hk fiends at a birthdayParry.Instead,
theyhateto gosomePlaceand getdressed uP.It isn'tfair, hethinks.
His brother,Joe,dressed in woolpantsanda bowtie, enters
gloyeon hit lrf hand.He skps it hard.He makesa
with a baseball
faceat Eddie.
says."My newonesdrebetter"
"Tltoseweremy old shoes,"Joe
Eddiewinces.He hateshavingtowearJoe'sold things.
"Stopwiggling"hismothersays.
"They HURT" Eddiewhines.
"Enough!"hisfatheryells.He glaresat Eddie.Eddie goes
silent.
Eddiebarelyrecogni<es
At thecemetery> thepierpeople.The
menwhonormallyweargoldlamdandredturbansdrenowin black
l+61 MrrcH ALBoM

suits,likehisfather.The womenseemto bewearingthesameblack

dress;
somecoyertheirfacesin veils.
d mdnshoveldirt into a hole.The mansays
Eddiewatches
somethingabout Edd;eholdshismother's
ashes. handandsquints
at thesun.He issupposed to besad,heknows,but heisseoetly
countingnumbers, startingfom 1, hopingthatby thetimehe
1000hewill hayehisbirthdavback
reaches