A little literary cheese ; )

I was bored one night, and wrote this for our university literary magazine. I really should take the time to edit it, but the premise will remain the same. Perhaps with a bit less literary cheese. Ha!

The Waiting Room

The waiting room was very busy that day, busy enough that she thought she would be waiting next to these strangers forever. And though there were a dozen or more people waiting, they seemed nice enough. Molly stood just inside the door to the office where the office manager sat, legs propped up on the desk and his hands behind his head. Odd for an office manager, Molly thought. She’d never seen this man before, the man with long white hair and a pleasant, content expression. The name on the desk read simply, ‘Pete’. She smiled pleasantly and looked around the waiting room, clutching her purse.
Immediately to the right sat a small, old lady with white hair that looked as though it must have been set in curls just this morning. She smiled to herself, thinking fondly of her grandmother and the excitement she exuded just after she had gotten her hair set at the beauty parlor. Those tight, uncomfortable curls had never appealed to Molly, but, she thought, to each their own.
The waiting room had such a mix of people; young, old, white, black, Asian. Quite a different clientele from the usual mix of small town patients, but Molly didn’t know everyone in her neighborhood, so it didn’t strike her as overly odd as she took a seat next to the lady with the tight curls.
As she sat down in the comfortable, cozy chair, she turned to smile at the little lady, but the lady didn’t look up, instead focusing on the white yarn that, through the magic of ancient, talented fingers, spun into the beginnings of a sweater. In lieu of meeting Molly’s eyes, the lady smiled down at her knitting and said, “I wondered when you were coming.”
“Excuse me? I don’t think I know you. My name is Molly Ashley, and I’m waiting for the doctor.”
“Oh honey, of course you are. We’ve all been waiting here for a long time. It feels like I have been here for years, and in fact, I probably have,” she stopped and looked over at Molly, laying her aged and spotted hand on hers. “But what have you got if you don’t have patience?”
Molly smiled sympathetically at the little old lady with the tight white curls. Obviously she suffered from dementia, although sometimes it did seem like ages when waiting for an appointment. Molly was a little irritable today, having just been in a car accident that morning. She had been driving her usual route to work when a truck came from nowhere and she glanced up just in time for the collision and braced herself for the worst, but by some miracle, she was fine.
She thought her injuries must not have been that bad because she just got up and walked home, glancing sympathetically at the paramedics who were working diligently on a poor young woman who didn’t seem too well off. She was lying on cold, wet pavement, and the paramedics hovered over her, shielding her body from the rain as they worked, but her limbs were bent and twisted, and pools of dark blood had formed underneath her. Though Molly was deeply concerned for the poor girl, she just stepped out of her vehicle and slipped away in the melee.
Though she was very shaken and a little sore, she calmly walked down the street and to the waiting room of the doctor’s office, walking ten blocks in pouring rain, not feeling a thing.
I must have been in shock, but I feel much better now. I wonder how that girl is doing…she certainly didn’t look very good.
But just as her mind wandered to the girl, she strutted into the office. No one else in Chicago had that pair of shoes, she was sure. The girl was either fashion forward or completely crazy, but she looked gorgeous in a white pencil skirt and a stiff-collared white shirt. But those shoes…they were red sequined and glimmering in the fluorescent light, just like Dorothy’s from that old movie. How funny.
“Hi, I believe I saw you this morning just before the accident,” said the young woman with the crazy shoes. “You were in the little red car. And you look like you died quickly and painlessly.” She sighed and sat next to Molly. “I believe I’m jealous.”
Molly’s heart thudded and her hands began to tremble furiously. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m here to see the doctor. I wasn’t hurt.”
But the young woman and the old lady with the tight curls shared a compassionate smile before turning back to Molly.
“Honey, you’re in The Waiting Room. You died this morning immediately after that truck hit you. Don’t you wonder how you got away with not even a scratch?” the old lady said as she patted Molly’s clammy hands, but Molly didn’t feel the touch as she began to rock a little. The memory of her own death flooded her senses, but oddly enough, her broken heart healed itself quickly and she came back to her senses, turning to the young woman with the ruby shoes named Elizabeth.
“And how are you so calm? And why are you wearing those ridiculous red shoes?” she snapped. But instead of taking offense at her questioning, Elizabeth just smiled sweetly, as though conjuring up a fond memory.
“Well, you see I have-had a gift for seeing things that most people don’t see. It’s not that they can’t, it’s just that they are too afraid to look into things past their control. Anyway, I could always see beyond the living life, and I knew something that very few people could see. The Waiting Room.” Elizabeth looked perfectly content as she dug a mint from the bottom of her purse, plucked off the fuzz, and popped it into her mouth.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is The Waiting Room, and why am I here?”
“It’s simple. You’re waiting for someone. The question is, who?”
“Whom.”
“Okay, for whom are you waiting?”
“I’m not sure. I never knew this place existed. It’s The Waiting Room, you say? Who all gets to wait?”
Elizabeth reclined in her chair, as though settling in for a long stay and said, “Well, from what I can see, there are those who, when they die, they pass right through the gates of Heaven to immediately begin their afterlife, confident that they will be able to find their loved ones when they come to join them.”
The old lady with the curly hair added, “And then there are those like us. Those who choose to stay outside of the gates, denying ourselves that undeniable, indescribable joy that comes in the hereafter.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she put her half-knitted sweater down.
“I was ready to go, but John wouldn’t let me leave him so easily. So I made him a promise that I would wait for him just outside the gates of Heaven until he came to meet me.” The tears spilled over, her voice full of ache and longing.
“I’ve been here waiting for my John for ten years now, and he’s meeting me here today. I got my hair done for the occasion, can you tell?” she asked, glancing at the two young ladies, anxiously awaiting their approval.
“It looks beautiful. You look beautiful, but why have you waited outside? Don’t you think he would find you when he got here?”
“Oh honey, I know he would come and find me. It’s the promise I made him, and after fifty years of marriage, I just can’t image Heaven without him. Oh, look! Here he comes!” she squealed, and as she stood, John shuffled through the office door. She jumped up with the vivacity of a teenager and ran toward him, jumping into his arms where they clung and spun, just as in love now as they had been on earth.
Molly felt a strange tug as she watched John and the curly-haired lady embrace and stare into each other’s eyes, professing their love for one another.
“Honey, I made you something while you were still there.” She held up the white knitted sweater, smiling proudly up at her husband. “I thought you might be chilly here, so I made it myself.”
“I love it Anna, and I missed you like crazy all these years. But we’ll never leave each other again,”-he stopped to wink broadly- “and that’s what I’ve been looking forward to ever since you left me.”
She smacked his hand in return, just as she had done all those years ago.
“Oh, you’ll never let me forget that, will you? At least you didn’t have to sit in a waiting room for a decade. My back is killing me.”
John and Anna, the little curly-haired lady smiled at Pete the doorman, and opened the door, where they were bathed in a blinding light. Elizabeth turned to Molly, wiped a tear from her cheek and sniffled.
“Well, all’s well that ends well, as the saying goes. Can you imagine waiting for that long?” she glanced sideways at Molly. “And whom are you waiting for?” she asked, smiling.
In response, Molly looked down at her skirt, plucking at the little fibers and dust that had gathered on it, feeling hot tears sting her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but they fell like rain anyway.
“I am waiting on the love of my life, though I’m not sure why.”
“Why is that? Doesn’t he love you back?”
“I don’t know. He’s been my best friend since we were twelve, and I’ve loved him since then. But he never loved me back. So why am I waiting for him?”
Elizabeth signed longingly. “Love does strange things to us. And if you’re waiting for him, I have a feeling that he loves you too. You’re a good, romantic soul, so I say wait.”
“Well, I’ll just have to see what happens. Now what about those shoes?” She eyed Elizabeth suspiciously. “Did you rob The Smithsonian or something?”
Elizabeth laughed deeply and fully. “Well, I always loved the Wizard of Oz, ever since I was a little kid. I even liked those creepy monkeys, and when my mom died, I told her she could find me because of my shoes. And today I just happened to wear my ruby shoes. Chalk one up for karma, and tell me more about your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she snapped, then calmed, turning toward Elizabeth. Molly made an effort to try and explain herself very carefully, because this feeling just needed to come out as thoroughly as possible-otherwise this complete stranger might think she was nuts.
“Do you know what it’s like when you meet that person who just fits you like a glove? I met him when I was twelve, and I immediately knew that he was my destiny. Unfortunately, he never felt the same about me, and I lived my life waiting for him to show up.” Molly’s eyes blurred with the flow of tears, and she sniffed angrily.
“I wasted my life waiting for Jeff to change his mind and let us live our lives together, and there was no time. Oh God. Just not enough time.”
But before she let herself slide into depression over things that would never be, her blood rose and gave way to her notoriously hot temper.
“There’s no rule that says once we come into this room, that we can’t leave whenever we want, right?”
“Why would you want to do something like that? How will you ever be sure?
“Because I lived my whole miserable life waiting and wondering, and I’ll be damned if I’ll spend my afterlife waiting on his sorry butt. I’m leaving!” Molly shot up out of her chair and marched toward the door. She marched past Peter, who merely glanced meaningfully down at his watch and smiled at her, because just as her hand reached the door, it flung open and a tall, dark haired man wearing a black sweater, jeans and muddy boots rushed through it, colliding with Molly, and instead of apologizing to her, he pulled Molly into him and kissed her long, deeply and softly until Molly finally understood what was happening.
Jeff finally released her from his grasp, and said, “Oh thank God! I knew you would wait for me! Damn it, you left me before I could tell you-”
“You left me, damn it, before I could ask you to be my wife.”
Molly grinned broadly, and said, “But I waited for you.”