Daud was confused by the water. It was sweet, like a honeyed or sugared brew. He rubbed the water between his fingers to see if it was sticky, or if the water just naturally tasted like that. A verse flowed through his mind, 'a land flowing with milk and honey.' True, that land was Canaan, and not HaOlam HaBa, but perhaps this was the true promised land. Perhaps he really was in heaven, Addonai's paradise built for man. But, then, what were the pagans and gentiles doing there?
The whole mess was confusing, and having some time to drift lazily on a river was making it worse! He could take his time identifying every problem he had with the world he found himself in. All the bits that nagged at him were coming to the surface and competing with the bits that made him question: even if this is Sheol or Gehenna, would he really want to leave? Of course, this could be the perfect pit of damnation for him: An endless world with endless time to find his beloved Rachel, but it was also infinitely difficult to locate her in such a place. He was gripped by this fear for a moment, the pain from losing her welled itself back up in his heart, as his chest felt tight with sorrow.
As Daud sat in his silent, morose reverie, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers together, long since dried of the river water he was testing, a strange bird dove at the water. Surely it was a bird, though from the brief flash he could see it seemed to also have scales. Perhaps it was some creature he had never seen. The world was a large place, and the after-world even larger. Daud sighed as he watched the creature fly off with its food. Perhaps it was flying off to feed its mate which watched its eggs...
Another, more horrifying thought popped into Daud's mind while Jason said...something in his tongue. When they had time, Daud would have to pick up some of that language; it would make their travels easier. He returned to his original revelation, not nearly as distracted from it as he wanted to be. Many babies died in their first few days, and a small fraction of children made it into adulthood. Did that mean that somewhere in this world, there were infants being slaughtered frequently by a whim of whatever made this place? It...it could not be. Surely there wouldn't... The thought of this happening to children - even Daud's, for he and Rachel had lost a child only two days old, brought him to tears.
The old man made young again, sitting in the canoe of a Roman Centurion with a detective and a bounty hunter in the middle of the afterlife where time had no meaning and yet carried a heavy weight, wept silently into his beard as he finally stopped rubbing his fingers together.
Azore of Ath-Ron