A Guardian Angel and His Charge

Description

This is a guardian angel short story about a clumsy protector and the human he is tied to by a small fob. It is an angel and human story about protection, mistakes, and the unseen battles that shape a fragile life.

A Guardian Angel and His Charge

She stared at the figure standing in her kitchen. He was too tall for the room, shoulders brushing the light fixture, a faint glow edging his outline. Broken mugs lay scattered on the floor where he had tried and failed to look graceful. He straightened, cleared his throat, and tried again to stand with dignity.

“Who are you?” she whispered, clutching the counter.

“I am your guardian angel,” he said, brushing ceramic dust from his sleeve. “That is all you need to know.”

She shook her head. “That cannot be real.”

He stepped carefully around the shards. “I agree. And yet here I am.”

Her eyes locked on the object in his hand, a small flat stone hanging on a plain chain, pulsing faintly with light. “And what is that supposed to be?” she asked.

“This is what links me to you,” he said. “Without it, I cannot reach you. With it, I can keep you safe.”

She frowned. “It looks like a car key fob.”

His jaw tightened. “We just call it a fob. The word is old. Humans used it for the little things that kept what mattered close. Watches, chains, and later car remotes. Same idea here. It is not fancy. It just works.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “So heaven runs on key fobs.”

He sighed. “We just call it a fob.”

The room grew quiet. Her hand trembled against the counter. “Why do you care? Why me?”

The glow dimmed around him. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of ages pressed down. His voice lowered to a rough whisper. “They think I am made of light and fire. The truth is, I am the burn marks left behind. Every soul I lost, I carry still. And I will not lose another without a fight.”

Her breath caught. She should have argued, but she did not. Something in his words reached deep into her. Against reason, she believed him.

Later that week, she found him again in a worse state. Rain hammered the streets as they stood near a storm drain. The fob had slipped from his hand, glowing faintly in the water below. He crouched, shoved his arm down the grate, and got stuck.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, folding her arms.

“I almost have it,” he grunted, wedging his shoulder further into the opening. His wing brushed against the wet concrete and twitched in irritation.

“You are going to lose your arm before you save me.”

“Part of the job,” he muttered. He kicked for balance, lost his shoe, and nearly toppled headfirst into the drain. Water splashed up his sleeve and across his chest.

She pressed her lips together, torn between fear and laughter. The absurdity of it broke through her nerves. “Can’t heaven afford a lanyard?”

His head snapped up, hair plastered to his forehead. “Not funny.”

“It is a little funny.”

With one last pull, he yanked his arm free, holding the dripping fob high like a prize. The glow flared, and warmth filled her chest. Her heart steadied, and for the first time in weeks, her shoulders eased.

He stood there, soaked and disheveled, his shoe floating in the gutter. He looked less like a mighty angel and more like a man who had fought with a drainpipe and barely won.

“See,” he said breathlessly. “Still works.”

She shook her head and smiled despite herself. “Until you drop it again.”

He clipped the fob to the chain and pressed it tight against his chest. His voice lowered. “I may trip. I may fall. But as long as I have this, I will not let go of you.”

For the first time in a long while, she believed she might be safe. He was not graceful. He was not polished. But he was present. Every stumble, every slip, every ridiculous rescue carried the same weight. He always showed up.

And the fob was only part of the story.

Author’s Note: This short story is connected to my upcoming novella Bound By The Fob: The Link Between an Angel and His Charge. It can be read on its own, or together with my other short story, A Guardian Angel’s Fight, for a fuller look at the unseen bond between an angel and his human. Thank you for reading and supporting my writing here on Vocal.