The Dead Man: Hell in Heaven by Lee Goldberg, William Rabkin

eleven chickens, then Ezekiel Vetch must pay him nine chickens, or the equivalent in whatever means of barter shall be mutually agreed upon by both parties. In return, Hoggins may keep the pig carcass to do with as he pleases.”
    Both blood-drenched men stared at him silently. They seemed to be waiting for him to do or say something else. Matt considered throwing in an “amen,” but it didn’t seem appropriate for the occasion. Finally something popped into his head from an old movie he couldn’t identify. “So it shall be written, so it shall be done.”
    He waved the axe in the air, then turned and walked away, trusting the two men would not go back to trying to kill each other.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
    The Grange turned out to be a grand old barn nestled in the middle of a stand of pines. It seemed like a strange place for such a structure to Matt, but everything else had seemed so bizarre since he got to Heaven it barely even caught his notice. Especially once he’d stepped through the wide doors and discovered just how beautiful a barn could look. There were brightly colored tapestries hanging from the walls and rugs on the floor. The ceiling was open to the roof, revealing an exquisite structure of wooden beams, all painted in a pattern of birds and wildflowers. Oil lamps hung from these beams, casting the vast room in warm, golden light.
    Mouse led Matt into the Grange a few minutes before six, and the room was already filled with people. It seemed as if everyone he’d met out on Main Street was here, along with quite a few others.
    Three long tables were set up in a U-shape right in the middle of the floor. The two sides were long enough to easily seat a hundred people around each of them. The bottom of the U was much shorter, with only seven seats. Or, Matt thought as he took a second look, six seats and a throne. Unlike the rest of the bare wood chairs, the one in the middle was thickly padded and stood at least a foot higher than the others.
    “What a surprise that Orfamay Vetch has got such a nice seat,” Matt muttered to Mouse as they came in.
    “It’s her due as leader of the Vetch family,” Mouse said. “Vern’s is just as good as head of the Gilhoolies.”
    Matt looked around, but didn’t see another throne anywhere in the room. Maybe they take turns , he thought.
    “It’s getting late,” Mouse said. “We’d better sit down.”
    Matt hesitated, not sure which side to choose. Mouse grabbed his hand and led him to the short table.
    “Can’t we just find a quite spot on one side?” Matt said.
    “You’re funny,” Mouse said. “I didn’t expect that.”
    “I didn’t expect any of this, so we’re even,” Matt said.
    As they came around one side of the short table, Orfamay Vetch rounded the other. Matt stopped to let her get past him to the grand seat. But she stopped short and pulled out one of the wooden chairs next to the throne, then sat in it without ceremony. Matt turned back to Mouse, confused.
    She gestured to the throne.
    “That’s not for me,” he said.
    “You set us free,” Mouse said. “It’s yours.”
    Like the rest of the town, apparently. Matt had tried to get Mouse to tell him how things had been while Joan was alive, how long she’d been there and what she’d done to them. But somehow the girl always managed to change the subject, telling him little anecdotes about the town and the people who lived in it. If he pressed, she started talking about how happy everyone was that he’d come. Finally she’d led him to Orfamay’s house. It was another shack with no electricity and no running water, but he’d been able to use the pump outside to wash off the pig blood that had been splashed on him, and when he pulled his head out from under the water he could see Mouse disappearing down the road. He hadn’t known how he was going to pass the hours until six that evening, but as soon as he sat down on Orfamay’s soft sofa his eyes closed and he fell into a deep