Orville Baumgardner and the Morning Glories byJames Hanna

Author’s Note

Orville Baumgardner is the chattiest of men. He grew up in an Indiana farm town, graduated from a small rural college with gentlemen’s Cs, and used his gift of gab to get elected to the Indiana House of Representatives. Orville prides himself on having read over two hundred books, including most of the classics, yet sustained a career as a populist politician by promoting deep state conspiracy theories to his constituents. After twenty years, Orville gave up politics because he had a crisis of conscience. He has since lectured on numerous topics, including abortion, book banning, and corporate corruption, and his spiels have appeared in many literary journals. Although he has recently left this world, he continues to lecture in the afterlife.

“Dear souls who have shed their mortal bones, thank you for assembling to hear me speak. As I talk, I urge you not to think of yourselves in terms of your Earthly states but as morning glories opening themselves to the dawn of a brand-new day.

“Ah, I see one of you has a question. ‘Am I your guide spirit?’ you ask. No, I am not your guide spirit—you will meet your guide spirits later. I am simply a lowly orator here to give you your first orientation. On Earth, I was a scoundrel, a people’s party hack, but I acquired a bit of celestial credit when I quit that incorrigible pack. Even so, I told so many lies that I should probably be damned, but hell has not chosen to bind me so I have been free to roam at will. Most of my time I spend visiting Dante’s Circle of Limbo, a place where the greatest of thinkers stroll about and philosophize. I have met Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato. I have also met Hugh Hefner, a leading philosopher whose Playboy creed would fill a library or two. And these thinkers have all welcomed me as though I were a kindred soul. Why? Because I have read two hundred books, including all of Shakespeare’s plays, and I was a lecturer extraordinaire during my earthbound days.

“Dear Lady, you have a question, I see—I can tell by your troubled scowl. You say you committed many transgressions, during your stay on Earth, and you wish to know when the demons will come to punish you for your sins. Ah, lovely lady, disabuse yourself of the concept of punishment. Why would God want to hold you accountable for what He himself put in your heart? My dear, I assure you my personal sins were probably greater than yours. If punishment were a priority here, I would not be running loose.

“I see that another of you wishes to quiz me. Yes, you with the turban—speak up. You say that you were a good Muslim on Earth, that you killed many infidels for Allah, and that you’re seeking the forty virgins Mohammed said you were due. I assure you there are women here who will eagerly accommodate you. These are females seeking punishment for imaginary sins, and you will ease their consciences if you choose to ravish them. No, they are not virgins, but there is much to be said for experience. I have slept with one or two myself, and I can say without a doubt that they will give you more pleasurable orgasms than you ever had on Earth. What’s that? You think I am pulling your leg. Sir, I admit I’m a prankster, but there are limits to my wit. Alas, on Earth, I had such a weakness for ladies of ill repute that copulation is something I never joke about.

“Ah, I see that yet another of you has a question. Madam, say what you wish to say. You claim that you were a good Christian in life—you say you gave alms to the poor and attended church every Sunday where you were a soloist in the choir. You wish to know when an angel will come and take you to heaven’s door, and you hope to be reunited there with your parents and your dog. Dear lady, look around—you will see angels everywhere. They are those forms glowing like acetylene torches and whispering into people’s ears. My word, they are worse than the Mormons when it comes to soliciting souls, but they’ll be glad to escort you to heaven if that’s where you wish to go. Not many souls ever go with them—there are more exciting places to be—but now and then, they may recruit a celibate monk or two.

“Now then, if there are no more questions, I would like to give you some clues of what the spirit world may have to offer you. I have revisited the speculations spawned by some giants of literature and I have found that their grasp of the afterlife does not go very far. Did Achilles not say to Odysseus, in the bowels of a netherworld, that it is better to be a laborer among the living than king of the breathless dead? With all due respect to Homer, I am happy to confess that I have no love for manual labor and avoided it on Earth. In fact, I had no affinity for work of any kind, and so I exploited the working stiffs with a politician’s lies. Even now, as I traverse a nonphysical world and ponder the spoils I have lost, I know I would never return to Earth at such a crippling cost. So, Achilles, I congratulate you for the pillaging of Troy. Still, I suggest you never trade places with the peons you destroyed.

“Ah, I see that yet another of you has something he wishes to say. Sir, you want to know why a rascal like me is conducting an orientation that would be better presented by souls of a godly persuasion. Good sir, I speak with the same license as Moses and Mohammed. Were they not self-appointed gurus? Did they not subordinate truth? Was the nonsense they spouted less offensive than what I am telling you? When I think of the conquests and subjugations these prophets gave power to, I would venture to say that I am the least offensive of the crew.

“So let us now ponder another great author who appraised the afterlife. Thornton Wilder claimed that the world to come was a kind of celestial oven—a place where the departed burned away their Earthly conceits so their souls might travel on. The actors representing the dead in Our Town speak so coldly and matter-of-factly that one would think their time on Earth was a forgettable holiday. Ah, but I’ve met a few Hindus here who insist they will be reborn—that their destiny is to return to Earth assuming another form. Since life is an endless circle to them and their Earthbound bags are packed, I wonder what Thornton Wilder would find to say about that.

“Ah, so many questions—I see yet another raised hand. Yes, elderly lady? You say that you find me a very impudent man. You say you have no idea why God chose me to give this indoctrination when even the lowest of angels would better suit the occasion. What’s that? You also say that you are more than disgusted by my spiel and that I need to show more respect for heaven and hell.

“Gentle lady, I assure you that hell is no joke to me. But the Biblical scribes have reduced it to an outrageous comedy. I did drop into hell a few times, when I had nothing better to do, and I do concede that it is a place of wailing and gnashing of teeth. But the wailing and teeth gnashing do not come from souls being burned to a crisp but from poker players foolish enough to draw to inside straights. There are hundreds of poker parlors down there where audacious spirits dwell. These are souls who sampled heaven and prefer to cut cards in hell.

“Dear spirits, my time with you is up even though time has no meaning here. You will meet with your guide spirits shortly, and I hope they will ease your fears. So, as I take my leave, I ask you to pardon my imposition and know that I salute you all and wish you smooth transitions.

James Hanna

Image: Pisa.Baptistery.lectern. A marble lectern adorned with figures in draped clothing backed by the back of a bench with latin writing carved into it. From Wikicommons in the public domain.