My Guardian Angel went on Vacation

Author’s Note

I wrote this for my Facebook Group on a Random Sunday — Come join the fun. Black Spyder Publishing on Facebook!

I walked in to see my Guardian Angel packing his bags.

I blinked, stunned.

“What is this!?”

“It’s Sunday, my boy… I’m taking a rest.”

“A rest? Wait, what? Guardian Angels don’t rest.”

“Cap. Even God took a rest.”

“You can’t take a rest. I won’t allow it.”

“Won’t allow it? Brody, I don’t work for you. I was assigned to you. And to be honest, you’ve been doing the most. I put in for a day off, and it got approved. So… I’m out.”

“Well who’s gonna protect me? I got ops!”

He zipped up his duffel, giving me that tired look.

“Here’s an idea — stay inside today, play some PS5. Or better yet, do something your ops would never expect… go to church.”

They exchange a long, awkward look of disbelief and say in unison:

“Yeah. That ain’t gonna happen.”

“How long you gonna be gone?”

“Till I can recharge. You see the glow on my halo?”

“No.”

“Exactly. You’ve worn a heavenly brother out.”

“Your job can’t be that hard.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He looked at me sideways.

“Okay. Yesterday — when you were about to smash that girl in apartment 2B?”

“Yeah, Niccole. Damn, I was just about to go deep. But that damn dog showed up and attacked me.”

“I sent the dog.”

“You angelic cock-blocking muther — “

“Easy. Don’t forget who you’re talking to — Servant of GOD. Put some damn respect on my name.”

“Why’d you send the dog?”

“Because I know who her husband is. He’s a cop — one with more write-ups than that dude Denzel played in Training Day. He would’ve killed your ass.”

“How would he have found out?”

“He was on his way home for his lunch break.”

“Okay, that’s just one…”

“The day before that, when you were playing around with Tyrone’s piece and accidentally pulled the trigger?”

“Oh yeah… but it jammed!”

“No. It didn’t jam. I literally jammed my thumb in front of the hammer. You’re welcome.”

“Bruh… you…”

“You should never handle a firearm. Worst thing you humans ever made.”

“That still doesn’t prove — “

“Oh, and when you tried to fix your mom’s breaker box last week? I had to shut off power to the whole block to keep you from frying your dumb ass.”

“Damn…”

“And that scene in the club, when you spilled your drink on that dude and he wanted to fight? You walked outside, and 5–0 just happened to be chillin’ in the parking lot?”

“I could’ve taken him.”

“The man had a knife and was fresh outta prison. He would’ve killed you.”

“Okay, okay. So… so that means you can’t take a vacation. I — I need you! What if something happens? What if I die?”

“You need Jesus. I need a vacation. But clearly, you do need me. So while I’m gone, I would… not move.”

“At all?”

“Not a muscle. My guy, look… try not to breathe too hard — you might choke on it. I’m out.”

The Guardian Angel is gone.

I stand there, motionless, breathing slowly and shallowly.

Then I notices my shoelace is untied. I leans over to tie it.

A chill runs up my ethereal spine.

“Hello.”

I turn. Standing there is Lady Death.

“What!?”

“Yeah. You bent over. You slipped. You cracked your skull on that bowling ball you never put back in your closet.”

“What happen? Your guardian took a vacation?”

“My Guardian Angel took a vacay.”

“Figures. I’ve been after your ass for a minute. That dude does good work. Well… come on.”

— END —