The Stranger

I yawned as I fastened my checkered robe and headed downstairs, looking forward to my morning coffee. I stopped suddenly as I reached the bottom of the stairs when I saw a stranger in my living room.

"Whoah! Who are you?"

The old man, who was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, slowly stood up. "I'm Pete. I live just down the street."

"Um... you mind explaining how you got in my house."

"Oh, your wife Sara let me in."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"She just left to pick up some eggs at the market. She'll be back in a minute." I walked over to Pete, who had a white mustache and beard. He looked at me and snickered, "Nice robe."

"Hey," I said, wagging my finger at him. "I'm a married man with both kids away at college. I come downstairs expecting my wife. You're lucky I have any clothes on at all."

Pete laughed. "I saw your wife outside and she invited me over for breakfast. I'm new in the neighborhood and I like to know my neighbors." Pete paused for a moment. "I have a question I'd like to ask to get to know people better. It's a little strange though. Do you mind?"

I sat down in a chair near Pete. "Go right ahead."

"If you could have breakfast with four people in the world from any time in history, who would it be?"

"Ooh... that's a good one," I said, looking at the ceiling to think. "Well, my Dad for sure. He died three years ago. Jackie Robinson. I'm a huge baseball fan. Lucille Ball. She'd keep the conversation light."

"That's sounds like a great group," Pete said with a smile. "You have one more."

"My wife Sara, no question."

"What? You can have breakfast with your wife anytime. This is a special, once in a lifetime breakfast."

I shook my head. "Sara is the love of my life. She's the one that would make the breakfast special."

Pete frowned and he paused to think. "Let's say you couldn't invite her."

"Then I would just have those three," I said, tiring of the question. I got up and walked over to the window. It was beautiful, sunny day. "How long ago did Sara leave for the market?" There was no response. I turned around to look at Pete. "Did you hear me?"

"I did," Pete said, scratching his head. I must confess I haven't been completely honest with you. You won't be seeing Sara. Not for a very long time."

"What?" I said as my heart started to race. "What have you done with her?"

"I promise you that she is fine."

I rushed over to the sofa and leaped on top of the old man. I pressed my forearm up against his neck. I was much stronger than him. "Game time is over. You tell me where my wife is and you tell me now!"

"Okay, I will tell you everything, but please get off me," Pete said, straining to speak.

I released the pressure I was putting on Pete's neck, but I still had him pinned on the sofa. "I'm not letting you go until you tell me what is going on," I said.

"I know this is tough for you. That's why I arranged a little surprise in the dining room. Breakfast is ready."

"I don't care about breakfast. Where's my wife?" I said, exerting pressure again, but this time on his shoulder.

"You don't understand. Your dream breakfast guests are all here. Your dad, Jackie Robinson, and Lucille Ball."

I released the pressure on his shoulder and stared at Pete for a moment. "Did you escape from some insane asylum?"

"I'm serious. I have arranged it all. They're in your dining room right now. Go look."

I glared at Pete, figuring this was some kind of trick. I grabbed him by the arm and forcefully led him down the hallway toward the dining room. As we approached the dining room, I stopped suddenly. My heartbeat quickened and my eyes widened. I heard Lucille Ball's distinctive voice. She said something which triggered my Dad's signature laugh. A laugh I have not heard in three years. My dad was alive!

I released my hold on Pete and stared at him. "You can bring people back from the dead?"

"No," Pete said, shaking his head. "No one has the power to do that."

"But... then how?"

Pete smiled and said, "Welcome to heaven."