Fiction: The Soul Guardian 3 (End)

[ Read Part 1 here, Part 2 here ]

~ January 2012 ~

"Hello, Mr. Blue," says Penelope. Anson hasn't accepted the nickname but it's an appropriate title for he always wears navy blue from head to toe. When she first started calling him that, she had glanced at his biker boots and said, "Someday, I'll get a pair of boots like yours." A certain thrill had ran through him but he dismissed it. He doesn't try to remember all that she says but somehow her words stick in his head.
    "Why aren't you up there with her?" says Penelope.
    Anson keeps his eyes up at the five-story building. The falling rain blocks most of his view but he senses the lady's hesitation. Even after all these years, he is still unused to knowing what his charge is feeling and thinking. He lowers his eyes toward the ground.  
    "Oh! I get it! It's only after she suffers does she realize she wants to live. But isn't it cruel? What if she breaks more than a leg? But that's life, right?" Penelope's constant queries irks him and yet, he likes her curiosity.
    "Quick, Mr. Blue! Move that truck so she can land on it! You can save her some suffering!" Penelope is waving her hands wildly between the truck and the falling lady.
    Without thinking, Anson lifts a finger and swipes the air. The gray truck moves and she lands on the roof but the sound is drowned out by the rain. Anson appears on the roof of the truck. The lady's soul sits up from her body lying on her stomach. He taps her shoulder and her soul seeps back into her body. Just a fracture bone in her left leg and yet, for this one decision, she will pay for it in her future.
    What have he done? A guardian's job is to keep the soul safe and not to interfere with their lives, not even to save them some suffering - this Anson reminds himself. He likes to believe every decision is judicious but is it? He looks up at the gray sky. What limitless pain humans give themselves. The danger isn't always outside but what's within. He looks back at Penelope. She is grinning up at him and waving two thumbs up. As he turns away from her, he notes she has grown taller in the past five years.
    As he returns to the ground, Emanuela's voice speaks in his head. "Poor child. Sadly, it matters little where she lands. But you are to extend your guardianship for a bit longer but time matters little to us." Her voice fades away. Anson considers her words. Does time matters when you aren't living?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anson and Penelope appears in another street. In the cold, night air, a light snow is falling. If Anson wants to he can feel every chill, heat, wind, but often, he prefers not to. There is no comfort in feeling human when all it does is give him a longing for his old life.
    Just steps away, a woman wearing a long, white coat and carrying a small bundle is slowly making her way through a neighborhood with well-built houses and neat lawns. She pauses and lowers the bundle down on the pavement. Then she collapses. Her soul slips out of her body. She looks surprise but when Anson comes close, she shifts whatever thought aside and says, "Please, Sir, take my baby to my sister's house, just down the street, the pink one, #888. I left a note in the blanket that will explain everything. Please, save my baby."
    Anson nods. He picks up the bundle. The baby's sleeping face is the only thing showing through the layers of blankets wrapped around her. He brushes away bits of snow off her cheeks. Her tiny mouth twitches but she does not wake.
    "Will she live?" says the woman.
    Anson nods.
    "Will she be loved?"
    Anson nods again and offers a subtle smile.
    The woman smiles. An elder man in white appears beside her. He gives Anson a nod and Anson nods in return. The man takes hold of the woman's hand and they both vanish.
    "Do you know that reaper?" says Penelope.
    Anson nods. Reapers, like Sam, are once guardians. Sam had said there is not much difference between a guardian and a reaper except one saves souls and the other takes them.
    Penelope turns her attention toward her. "Ooh, a baby. Let me see! Let me see!" She leans toward him to take a peek. "Do babies have souls? Of course, they do. Silly question," says Penelope. Anson smiles but quickly purses his lips into a tight line. He turns and starts walking, passing trees and cars. At three in the am, the streets are deserted. Penelope keeps chattering until Anson finally stops and says, "Please restrain your mouth." Penelope giggles and grins. Anson starts walking again and Penelope silently follows.
    At house #888, Anson lays the baby by the front door. He presses the doorbell and turns to go. Behind him, he hears the door open and joyful voices.
    With a thought, he and Penelope appears back in the hospital. The child is being resuscitated. He taps Penelope's shoulder. Her soul slips toward her body. The doctor puts away the paddles and after a few moments of checking the girl, he and the nurse leaves. The leftover nurse tucks the child back and smooths back her strawberry-blonde hair.
    Today, Penelope's life will begin and it will be colorful and full of trials but Anson won't be part of it. Anson places a hand on her shoulder and peers at her round and familiar face. "Stay, live," he says. For seven years, she has appeared by his side and every time, he would bring her back here without a qualm but as he silently bids her farewell, he is almost wistful.
    As he steps through the hospital's double doors and out into the open air, a sudden unease comes over him. For a moment, he stands still trying to quell his palpitating heart. Something is wrong. He looks down at his hands fading in and out. Emanuela appears. "Come," she says with a subtle smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In a small room, in a bed lies Anson's body surrounded by three people. Even now, after fourteen years, the sight of the gaunt face makes Anson uneasy. He can no longer associate himself with this older, unfamiliar man whose life ended because some kid took an unexpected joyride.
    The woman in gray nods and the two men in white starts unplugging the machines. The beeping sound slowly dies away.
    The sudden disconnection makes Anson's heart stopped but it is a feeling. He glances at the man's face. It isn't much of a death, more like a welcome conclusion that comes late. The woman pulls the sheet over the man's head. The three bow their heads.
    Emanuela steps through the closed door and Anson follows. The hallway is busy with people. Emanuela walks toward a clearing by the rows of windows where bright sunlight lands on her smooth face. "Continue to be a guardian or I could guide you to a new life." Emanuela is always succinct if sometimes a bit nonchalant.
     "I understand. I wish to continue as I am," Anson says. Up until this moment, he hasn't been certain. If he moves on, it means all his memories would be wiped including those of the souls he saved. He doesn't want that, not yet.
    "Very well." Emanuela widens her smile and disappears.
    He glances down at his hands. They fade to transparency and then slowly returns to their solid state. His body has altered but the difference is not discernible. As a guardian, Anson does not grow as his living body does so he remains a 28-years-old and will remain like this until he stops being a guardian. He remembers when he first appeared beside his body, he was weak like he was made of air and as time pressed on, he felt a small degree of solidity. Now, that solidity has tripled. A certain bliss fills him and he can now let go, not only his old life but the expectations for a future life. But none of this changes his job.
    There is no shortage of scumbags but Anson, again, questions why he is to save another. But he does his job because that is the only thing right in the world. In an operating room with the sounds of beeping and the subtle intakes of breaths, a man lies on the table with ten stabbed wounds while doctors and nurses hurries to save him. Anson presses a hand on the man's shoulder, keeping his soul from leaving. Though he knows about the man's future life, he does not care to speculate.
    After another assignment, Anson checks in on Penelope. The child is awake. A nurse is feeding her apple sauce. She grins as the nurse chats. Anson stays in the doorway. The nurse leaves to wash the bowls and utensils. Penelope waves at Anson but there is no recognition. Keeping his hands in his coat pockets, he smiles and then walks away.  
    His connection to Penelope's soul hasn't ceased and that is something new to him. Is it a coincidence the day she starts living is the same day he dies? Some questions are best left unanswered as Emanuela used to say. But now that he is an untethered guardian, there is much he will experience that will be new and confounding. Outside, Anson glances briefly at the brilliant sky before he starts on his next assignment. He tucks his hands into his coat pockets and starts whistling as he walks.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This week's Words for Wednesday prompts are: scumbag, qualm, judicious, limitless, danger. More Words for Wednesday over here.