One Night in Paradise
In a village, there lived two young men. They were great friends and loved each other so dearly that they made a vow: whichever of them married first must invite the other to be his groomsman, even if he were at the ends of the earth. Some time later, one of them died. The other was about to get married and went to seek advice from his confessor.“This is a bad situation,” said the priest. “A promise must be kept. Go to his grave and invite your friend, even though he is dead. Whether he appears or not is his business.”
The young man went to the grave and said:
“The time has come. Come to my wedding as my groomsman.”
The earth parted, and his friend jumped out.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said. “I must keep my word. Otherwise, I’d have to spend who knows how long in purgatory.”
They went home together and then to the church for the wedding. Afterward, there was a wedding feast, and the deceased friend told all sorts of stories but didn’t utter a single word about the afterlife. The groom itched to ask him a question but never dared. After the feast, the deceased friend stood up and said:
“Well, my friend, I’ve done you a favor by coming. Won’t you see me off now?”
“Of course! But not too far. You understand, tonight is my wedding night, and my wife...”
“Naturally, not too far!” The groom kissed his wife and said:
“I’ll be gone for just a moment and will return soon,” and he left with the deceased.
Chatting about this and that, they reached the grave.
They embraced. Then the living man thought: “If I don’t ask now, I’ll never get another chance.” Summoning his courage, he said:
“Listen, you’re dead. Won’t you tell me what it’s like on the other side?”
“What’s there to tell?” replied the deceased. “Come with me, and you’ll see for yourself.”
The grave opened, and the living man followed the dead one straight into paradise. The deceased led his friend to a beautiful crystal palace with golden doors. Inside, blissful souls were dancing, angels played lutes, and Saint Peter played the double bass. The living man stood there gaping, and who knows how long he would have stayed if they hadn’t had more to see.
“Let’s go further,” said the deceased and led his friend to a garden where colorful birds sat on the trees instead of leaves, singing sweetly in all voices.
“Come on, why are you standing there like you’re enchanted!” The friends walked out onto a meadow where angels frolicked, tender and joyful, like lovers.
“Now let’s look at the stars!”
Oh, what stars they were! You couldn’t tear your eyes away! And the rivers! Instead of water, wine flowed, and the banks were made of cheese.
Finally, the living man came to his senses:
“Friend, I’ve been here a long time. It’s time to go home; my wife must be worried.”
“Are you bored already?”
“Bored? Not at all! If it were up to me...”
“Then stay. You’ll see even more...”
“I believe you, but I really must go.”
“As you wish.” The deceased walked his friend back to the grave and disappeared. The living man stepped out of the grave and didn’t recognize the cemetery: everywhere there were monuments, statues, and tall trees. He left the cemetery and instead of the old stone cottages, he saw huge buildings, trams, cars, airplanes...
“What devilry is this? Where have I ended up? Did I take the wrong road? Why are all these people dressed so strangely?” He asked an old man:
“Respected sir, is this such-and-such village?”
“Yes, yes, but it’s a city now, not a village.” “What the devil, where have I ended up?”
“Could you tell me where the house of the man who got married yesterday is?”
“Yesterday? I’m the local sexton, and I can assure you no one got married yesterday.”
“What? But I got married myself!” And he told the sexton how he had gone to paradise with his deceased friend.
“You’ve lost your mind,” laughed the old man. “That story has been told for ages: a groom went to the grave with his groomsman and never returned, and his young wife died of grief.”
“But I am that groom!”
“Listen, you need to speak with our bishop.”
“The bishop? In this village, there’s only the parish priest!”
“What priest? We’ve had a bishop here for years.”
And he took him to the bishop.
When the young man told the bishop what had happened, the bishop recalled hearing this story as a child. He fetched the church records and began flipping through them. Thirty years ago—nothing; fifty years—nothing; a hundred—no; two hundred—no. The bishop searched for a long time and finally found, on an old, faded page, the names of the young man and his bride.
“This was three hundred years ago! The young groom really did disappear at the cemetery, and his wife died of grief. Here, read it if you don’t believe me!”
“But that’s me! I am that man!”
“So you’ve returned from the other side? Why are you silent? Tell us, tell us quickly!”
But the young man turned pale as death, fell to the ground, and died on the spot. He never got to tell what he had seen.
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