Chapter Two

Sam folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes, ignoring the exasperated sigh of the man behind her. "Put me back. It was a mistake. Your mistake. You admitted it. Now put me back and I won't get mad."

"It wasn't my mistake, miss. It was your case worker's error. But it's done." She pushed the registry toward Sam again. "Please sign. You're holding up the line."

Sam leaned forward again, hoping to play on Marge's nice side which she hoped actually existed. "Please, Marge. You don't understand. It's very important that I not be dead. There's someone who will take this very badly." Although she'd managed to not think about Jack since she'd determined she wouldn't, her words immediately conjured the idea of him finding out she was dead. She didn't want to think about it as tears threatened again.

"It's a shame, miss. You lived a very good life and you were supposed to live a very long life with a very special man, but that's all changed now because you're already dead. Now be a sweet girl like you always have been and follow the rules. Sign here."

Sam snarled at Marge. The rules were the wrong thing to mention to her. "I demand that you put me back. I deserve another chance!"

Marge smiled. "Another chance? Sure." She reached under the counter and pulled out a form. "Applications for reincarnation must be filled out completely and in triplicate and should be accompanied by at least sixteen recommendations. If you make it through the first twelve rounds of screening, you'll be notified of your appointment time for an interview by the application screening review board. It's a time consuming process, but we feel it cuts down on the number of unacceptable souls who have a second chance, if you know what I mean."

Sam had never been one for rash decisions in her life, so she thought she shouldn't be one for them in death either. She was sure she could talk her way through the screening process and get back to living so she could find Jack, provided time consuming was just a way to deter her from trying. "How time consuming?"

"Several centuries, at least. Whoever you wish to speak with will most certainly be long dead."

"I don't want to be reincarnated into another century. I want to be reincarnated back into my body right now."

Marge let out a sigh and Sam wanted to smack her for it. "That's simply impossible."

"Why?" Sam had skirted the edge of impossible in her corporeal life so she saw no reason why heaven couldn't do the same.

"Because, you see-" Marge held up a paper fresh off the printer. "The activation of death form has been signed by your case worker."

"Then get some white-out and un-activate it, damn you!"

"Miss, please move aside." Marge was done with her, but Sam wasn't having it.

"You could give me the white-out and I'll take care of it." Sam waited a moment, not quite expecting her idea to sail. "I want to speak with your supervisor."

Marge grimaced. "I'm afraid God is quite busy right now, but I'll leave a message on his desk for him to contact you as soon as he's available."

"When will that be?" Sam was kind of hoping he would remember her from all those prayers she'd said as a little girl wishing for good things and happiness for all the world and also kind of hoping he'd forgotten when she decided it was all a crock after her mother died.

"Longer than reincarnation. Most people start the reincarnation process while they're waiting. Sometimes, by the second time they die, God is ready to see them."

Sam's hope was fading, but she wasn't giving up. She just couldn't leave Jack. She knew he'd blame himself and she needed to find a way to tell him it was her case worker's fault and not his. "Isn't there any middle-management?"

"I'm afraid they were all let go during the merger. This structure allows for more direct communication." Marge's fake smile was back in place.

"There are mergers in heaven? People get fired?" She shook her head and reminded herself that she was on a mission. "Who's responsible for making sure the caseworkers don't sign the wrong form?"

"That would be God, miss. And like I said, he's busy. He does have all of creation to oversee."

Sam's face fell. She wasn't getting anywhere. "So that's it? Someone wasn't paying attention and I'm just dead and there isn't a damn thing anyone can do about it?"

"Death isn't fair." Marge chuckled to herself.

"Is this funny to you?"

"It's a play on words. Death isn't fair? Like life isn't fair, only it's death?" Marge went back to scowling. "Give it a few million years. You'll develop a sense of humor."

Sam found herself thinking about the stupid jokes and how Jack would be in heaven there. Then she started to smile. The sense of humor was developing faster than Marge hoped. "Look, Marge, there has to be something you can do. Look at my file. I've saved the whole Earth a bunch of times. Doesn't that count for something?"

Marge checked her computer screen. "That was you? Oh, yes, let me tell you, we've been quite grateful each and every time, dear. Can you imagine how long it would take to process all those souls? We'd be here for all of eternity!" Marge started to laugh again.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, more heaven humor."

"You're catching on. You sure are a bright one, aren't you?"

"So someone makes a huge mistake and I have to suffer for it? Are you certain there's nothing I can do about it?"

"You could have been more careful."

"What? How could I be careful enough to keep my case worker from signing the wrong form?"

Marge shrugged. "If you'd stood out more, your case worker would have known you from Sandra, now wouldn't he?"

Sam felt depressed suddenly. "I didn't stand out?" She'd stood out everywhere she'd ever been only to get to heaven and find out she was a nobody.

"Look, since you saved Earth and all that, I'll give you a little hint. The reincarnation thing is useless if you're trying to contact someone. It's pretty much useless all the way around. I wouldn't bother if I were you." Marge nodded over at the line on the other side of the room. It was unfathomable.

Sam squinted. "Is that Hitler?"

Marge smiled. "Do you know him?"

Sam's mouth fell open in shock. "What? No! Of course not! He's horrible! He's evil! What's he doing here?"

"Everyone winds up here."

"This really sucks."

"Picture it from my perspective."

Sam thought about it. "Yeah, I guess that would suck too." Sam noticed another line, long, but not nearly as long as the one for reincarnation. All of the people in it looked hopeful too. "What's that one for?"

"Soul mates."

"You get in line to get a soul mate?" That was even more depressing than the rest of the afterlife.

Marge chuckled. "No, dear, the first one of a pair to die is invited to wait in that line until their partner joins them. Then the pair decides what to do together." She looked at her screen and then winked at Carter. "I bet you'll be getting an invitation."

"I don't like waiting, Marge, and I did you a lot of favors by saving Earth." Sam was going to keep playing that card until it stopped working. At least Marge had started giving her helpful information. "What are my options here?"

"You're dead, miss. There aren't a lot of options."

"Give me one besides standing here and waiting for Jack to die." Sam paused for a moment. "And don't you dare say stand over there and wait for Jack to die."

Marge's face fell. Then she pointed to her right at an empty counter with a bored looking girl eagerly watching everyone who walked past. "You could try haunting."

Sam eyed the counter suspiciously, inherently distrustful of anything without a line. "How does that work?"

"Besides being terribly frustrating?"

Sam glared. "I didn't realize being frustrating was something you were trying to avoid here."

Marge frowned. "It doesn't require any screening. You just sign the form and go."

"That easy?"

"On this end." Marge looked at her watch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" There had to be a catch and Sam wasn't leaving the counter until she knew what it was.

"A lot of souls try it. It's just that most of the living don't really believe in ghosts, even though they claim they do and go to movies about ghosts and such. They don't actually expect to see you once you're dead."

"So? If you're there, you're there, right?" It seemed so painfully easy.

"Not exactly. The living have a terribly irritating way of completely ignoring things that are inconvenient and seeing the dead is apparently quite inconvenient for the living. If the person you're there to see doesn't believe in ghosts, he won't be able to see you." Marge shrugged. "So you'll spend your time trying to make him notice you, which he'll never do because he doesn't believe in you. Mostly only the real wackos can see you and therefore that's the only interaction you're going to get and therein lies the frustration." Marge smiled. "But if you're determined to do the impossible, be my guest."

Sam smiled brightly. "Check my file. The impossible is my specialty." She picked up the pen from the counter and signed the registry.

Marge nodded. "Good luck. Next!"

Taking a deep breath, Sam walked up to the counter. "Hi, I'd like to try haunting, please."

The girl giggled. "Oh, great! Wonderful. Fabulous. I haven't had any clients all day. Here you go!" She handed over another clipboard just like the registry one, except there were no names on it. "It's been a terribly long day."

Sam's hand held the pen suspended just over the blank line. "Any instructions? Advice?"

"Nope."

"Ok." She pressed the pen to the pad and signed her name. "So what now?"

The girl smiled. And then the whole room disappeared.