Continued.....

Patrick then felt the being depart him for the moment, and he was again all alone in the vast ocean of colors. At that point, the brightness of the sky began to subsist, and the colors began to fade into a deep blue. He was now in an ocean of a type he could recognize, with a sky that was brilliant and blue. He felt distressed about his situation once again until he noticed a coastline that has seemingly risen out of nowhere, and floating his way was a small empty raft.

Patrick got on the raft and paddled his way to the shore. As he got closer, he perceived that the shoreline went on forever in both directions. Just beyond the beach was a small wooden fence, and beyond that he saw high grasses, shifting with the wind. On the shore, he could see figures, dressed all in white, on the beach, and abandoned rafts like the one he was moving on now. He looked down at his own clothes and discovered that he was also now dressed in white, with his skin clear and free of the small blemishes that so obsessed him in life.

He was amazed at this but he felt like crying. He had no clue where he was going or what was going to happen. His missed the people he knew and trusted already, and believed that there was nobody on that beach that he knew or could trust. He tried to be brave, but he couldn’t manage it. He was tired already of being jerked around by supernatural forces in which he had no say. He wanted to be back in his town, or his school, somewhere he knew, where he could make choices he was familiar with, and where he could confide in his friends. The place he was entering looked like heaven, but he knew it couldn’t be, because he felt like he was dying all over again.

As Patrick got near the coast he jumped out of the raft and into the water. He let the raft go, reasoning that there would be countless others should he need it later. He walked up onto the beach, and looked around at the solitary figures walking up and down the beach, seemingly as dazed and confused as he was. Soaking wet now, Patrick looked for any sign of what to do next. The people there seemed so utterly confused, and were going nowhere, they walked up and down the shore seemingly forever. It was so peaceful and serene, yet also eerie. He wondered if they, like him, had just died and if they had found out anything different than he had.

Patrick picked out one he saw approaching him in the distance. He was about his age, with dark brown hair and eyes, and an athletic frame. His eyes squinted as if he was trying to perceive something in the distance that he couldn’t quite make out. He was lost like all of them, but he seemed particularly eager to find answers. Answers that he seemed to think lay on the endless path on the endless shoreline next to the endless ocean. He seemed unsure of where he was going, but was eager to get there. And, to him, getting to that unknown place seemed more important than asking questions about where he was actually going. Patrick had no clue of what kind of reception he would get, but knew he had to try something. Patrick walked beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, excuse me I was just…..”
“Are you Jesus?” said the youth in a hopeful, but firm voice.
“No,” Patrick replied, obviously puzzled by the question. “I’m Patrick.”
“Saint Patrick?”
“Not really.”
“Oh,” he said “then I’m going to keep going. I think what I’m looking for is around this corner.”
“What? Why? What’s your name?”
“I’m Kevin, I’m pretty sure this is heaven, or at least close to heaven. I just need to get to the main part, I think, so I really need to keep going.”
“No, I don’t think you understand,” pleaded Patrick trying to keep up with him “I don’t think this is heaven, I don’t understand what’s going on really, and I was wondering if we could try to figure it out.”
“No, I’m really pretty sure this is heaven, I just need to follow these people. It’s probably right around the bend…”

With that Kevin began to sprint off into the distance, going on the beaten path along the beach as fast and as furiously as he could. Patrick tried to keep up, but fell down into the sand, and saw that he was impossibly ahead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure leaned against the fence. It was a skinny man of medium height in his early twenties with dark shaggy hair, and glasses. He wore a tie-dyed shirt, with a peace medallion, and jeans. The man began laughing as he looked at Patrick flat on his face in the warm sand. It was a laugh that was friendly, but it made him feel a little stupid for being so clumsy.

“Ah the devout Christian!” he said in a British accent “Never believe in something so much that you become like that guy, unable to think for yourself and unwilling to stop and ask questions. If you’re going to have a good afterlife, you need to keep an open mind.”
Patrick eyed him suspiciously. He was unsure of what to make of him, but he was the only person he had seen on the shore who looked relatively happy.
“Come over here,” the man said “let’s talk for a bit.”