George

The Slip-in: George

Elaine Waldron

Copyright 2007

Smashwords Edition

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 Chapter One

George Campton had been there for only an hour by Earth time, but in spite of what he’d been told during his intensive training, it still seemed like a long time to just stand there watching a human sleep. Though his first charge was pleasantly attractive and young, he still found this new task tiresome, time-consuming and definitely boring. He supposed it strange to think in such terms, for eternity was now before him.

He had died as a human at 72, had had a fairly long life. Yet, if he materialized (which he’d been warned not to do until his superiors deemed him ready) he would now be, as he chose, somewhere between his late 20s and early 40s: a medium-built handsome man with dark hair, obsidian eyes and dark olive skin.

He had been Romanian by birth. Now he was what was known as a slip-in: one who watched over livings while they went about their daily lives in total oblivion to the supernatural world. (Something he had definitely been oblivious to.)

He hadn’t been much of anything in any religious sense – hadn’t been Jew, Christian or Muslim, and none of the pagan ways had ever appealed to him. He simply believed there was something, but felt it was way beyond human understanding and totally ridiculous for people to try and figure out, much less get hysterical over when religion was taken to extremes. No. He had merely existed, living out his life the best he could (with a definite negative attitude) and guffawing anyone who dared to even try and change him.

Even his wife, Sarah, whom he missed terribly, had never been able to get through to him. She had been and still was a very devout Catholic. Now the hard reality of his stubbornness and ignorance had hit home. He was acutely aware that it may have been her prayers and those of her church friends that had kept him from burning in hell.

Was this the purgatory she had so often told him about?

From what he understood, a slip-in was the first step on the way to being an angel, but it would take time, a long time, to prove himself worthy of moving up in ranks, especially since he had nurtured such a negative attitude. And why they had chosen him was beyond his comprehension. Patience was something he would have to learn on this plane, something that he really did not have in his human existence. In fact, not many people living in the 21st century had a lot of patience that he could recall. Not those in the United States and parts of Europe. But he was aware that some of the third world countries still knew what it was to appreciate what little they had and had learned the very hard way that patience was, indeed, a virtue.

He just didn’t think it applied to him.

Everyone living was watched by slip-ins, what humans perceived as guardian angels. But only the truly pious had full-fledged angels looking in on them, but it was more to observe and keep account of their wards’ actions, rather than protect them. They were not to interfere with human history except in extreme cases. And only the full-fledged angels were allowed to do that.

And if George failed in some way – if he were to go bad – he was warned, he would be sent straight to hell. It would take two angelic witnesses to convict him, though. It was a necessary precaution. Angels and slip-ins held too much power. Therefore, for the sake of justice, no slip-in or angel could be convicted on the word of one angelic witness. This was to keep any one angel or potential angel from gaining too much power over others.

George supposed that through the ages humans had come in contact with materialized angels, otherwise, how did the guardian angel concept ever get started? He knew there was something about it in the Bible, but it wasn’t real explicit. He opted for the personal contact theory.

Slip-ins were kind of like babies, beginning with the abilities of angels but not skilled or developed to their fullest potential. It sucked as far as George was concerned. Why, now that he was dead, did he have to wait? Why couldn’t he just be an instant angel? Seemed ridiculous to him.

The girl, Kathryn Winston, rolled over and popped her green eyes open for a moment, sleepily looked around then closed her eyes and fell back to sleep. She was 26, single, and on the fast-track to a lot of trouble and grief if she didn’t change her ways. She’d been caught up in an illicit affair with a married man, who was about to turn on her and stay with his wealthy wife. Something she had no idea was coming. But he knew. He knew all there was to know about her and his other three charges that he hadn’t looked in on, as yet.

He had been George Campton, the son of a Romanian mother and country hick father – a farmer and a bit of a realist – on the physical plane. Now, he was merely George, slip-in in waiting. Sir names held no meaning in the ethereal universe.

He thought of the slip-in he’d just relieved, Paul (had been Paul Clark), and wondered why it was necessary to even switch places with him. Paul had watched Kathryn and the others since their births. But Paul had simply commented that he was moving up now, and such matters weren’t theirs to question. He also reminded George that he wasn’t just to stay with Kathryn but was to give each charge equal time. Almost the minute Paul had spoken, an archangel with piercing blue eyes and wearing a maroon robe appeared and stated that it was time for Paul to go. Paul introduced George to the angel by the name of Reuben, bid George adieu and he vanished along with the angel.

Now, here George was with the task of watching this pretty young woman and others, two men and a teenage girl, for an undetermined amount of Earth time. And not going by Earth time was something he was still having great difficulty grasping, in spite of the fact that the elders kept reminding him that there was no such thing to him anymore. He had to learn to think in terms of never-ending and forever. Another concept he was having great difficulty in grasping. Yet, his stays with the humans were set. Didn’t make any sense to him.

Kathryn popped her eyes open again; fuzzily looked over at her small digital clock, said a few choice words and forced herself out of bed. She was late for work at Safeway where she was a cashier.

She shed her baby-blue pajamas and let them fall to the carpet and slipped into red silk panties with a Tweetie Bird at the crotch and then her matching bra (Tweetie Birds over the nipples), quickly wriggled into her new denims and a black turtleneck; then, after a few quick swipes with her hairbrush in front of her mirror, pulled her long auburn hair back in a pony tail, sprayed on Peony body splash and went off to the adjacent bathroom to brush her teeth with her electric brush. Finished with that, she rushed back into the bedroom, applied her Cinnamon-red lipstick, green eye-shadow, donned her sport socks and black and white tennis shoes, grabbed her small black purse with a shoulder strap and was out the door—

And George right behind her.

Safeway was only two blocks east, down-slope all the way, of her apartment building in Seattle. Wasn’t any point in wasting gas on a clear day; she decided to walk, which she did every time the weather permitted. But this was Seattle and it rained a lot. Today, the sunshine was out bright and she was glad. She hurried on along and burst in through the glass doors just as the big hand on the clock over the office window landed on 8:00 a.m. straight up. She did her best to avoid Dennis Whyte’s stare from the other side of the office glass, fully aware this was her third time this week to barely make it to work on time. She didn’t even bother to go to the back and toss her purse in her locker. She just went straight up to register seven, tucked her purse underneath the conveyer and began readying for the day.

In no time at all Dennis was standing over her, clearing his throat. He was a tall man, six-foot-seven, and could be most intimidating when aggravated, but most of the time he was fair enough, giving people at least several chances before really letting them have the what-for. He had a bulbous nose and bushy bright red hair and though his hair was pretty, it wasn’t that attractive on him. But he had kind steel-gray eyes, which made up for his lack of attractive features. And he had a good build on those long legs. Which helped. She figured his physique, eyes and balanced personality were what his wife, Caroline, saw in him.

He cleared his throat again and stared down at her.

Kathryn inserted her tray in the register. Already, there was a line of six people waiting for her to open. I know...It was close. But I did make it on time, she said, turning and offering up a sheepish smile.

He just sighed heavily, twisted his mouth around (but his cheeks smiling), obviously considering everything and said, Okay...but no more. You be on time from now on!

Yes, sir! He walked off and she was relieved. She’d escaped his wrath once more. But she knew she couldn’t keep pushing it.

Larry came running up to help her sack. He was a handsome Italian boy of 22 who’d moved there just a little over two years ago from Albany, New York, and was working his way through The University of Washington to become a nurse practitioner. He flashed white even teeth. Only you could get away with cutting it so close so many times in one week, Katie, he breathed and began sacking groceries she was already sliding his way.

I know. But I have a feeling he won’t let me off so easily next time.

Oh...yeah...he will. He likes you. He winked from the side.

’Larry! He’s married, she said in a loud whisper.

Even so...that doesn’t stop him from liking you. Doesn’t mean he’d ever try and do anything about it.

I suppose you’re right. She said and focused on the middle-aged black woman who appeared in a hurry and was glaring at her and waiting for her change. Sorry... she apologized.

The disgruntled woman snatched up her change, dropped it in her purse and marched off with her single bag of groceries that she refused to have Larry carry.

George sat down at the end of the stand by Larry’s slip-in, a faceless one (just a blur). Some seemed to prefer it that way. He or she (George couldn’t tell and realized it probably didn’t matter anymore) merely nodded. They were there simply to observe, nothing else they were to do. Nothing else they could do. Well...that wasn’t completely true. But that was all he was allowed at the present. He didn’t know about the other slip-in.

Looking around, he realized slip-ins were everywhere, following their charges throughout the store and out the door and to their cars. He just wished he’d known – had a clue – when he was human. He was sure he would have been a whole different person. But God wanted man to make choices with what he allowed them to know, not with total knowledge of everything. Larry’s slip-in suddenly announced he needed to check on his other charges and vanished. But George wasn’t ready to leave. And the green light on his wristband wasn’t blinking.

The more he listened to Kathryn, to her soft Elizabeth Taylor voice, and watched her move so gracefully and with a certain flowing precision, he found himself forgetting how bored he was. And the more he watched the more it came to his attention that she resembled his Sarah somewhat when she was young: same slight upward slant of the eyes (as well as being the same emerald green), same kind of turned up nose, though Sarah’s hair had been black as midnight, and Kathryn’s was a deep auburn.

There was also a nuance in her personality that was similar to his wife. Maybe it was a certain touch of gullible innocence. A trusting that could bring her a lot of hurt and heartache, if she wasn’t careful. Suddenly, he wanted to protect her as well as watch her. But he hadn’t been promoted to protector. And there was no reason for her to need a full time one, not at this point in her life. (Though that could easily change) He wasn’t even allowed to materialize, but he had the ability, basically to look anyway he wished, different from his true image. He had toyed with the idea of being a blond.

It really bugged him that he wasn’t allowed to materialize, yet. But that was part of his lack of patience, the main thing he was told he had to learn; that is, if he ever wanted to evolve into a full-fledged angel. And he did want that. The main battle to overcome would be with his self. With that thought, he went off to see about his drug-abusing teenager, Helga Johansson.

***

Kathryn was more than glad when it was time to turn her register over to Jennifer, the nice middle-aged woman that was only five foot tall, but one of their fastest checkers. She bid the pleasant-looking woman good luck and grabbed her purse, clocked out and met Larry as he was heading out the door. It was time for him to get off too and he escorted her to the corner, then went left where she went right. He was on his way to see his girlfriend, Margaret, who was also only a few blocks away. And he kept his red Mazda there, rather than leave it in the parking lot.

Kathryn just wanted to get home and see if she had any messages from Alex, though they’d been together until three a.m. that morning – the reason she’d overslept. She had forgotten to take her cell phone to work, which she’d kicked herself for all day. She just knew he’d tried to call, even though, realistically, he never called her when she was at work. In fact, he rarely called her. It was she who usually phoned him. She just kept hoping he would. But much to her chagrin the only message was from the library saying her Harlequin romance was past due. She said a few not so nice words and threw her cell phone down on the bed and went on to take her shower.

Alex still hadn’t phoned by the time Kathryn showered and wriggled into her slinky maroon dress with only thin rhinestone straps holding it up. It was cold outside, but she didn’t let that bother her, as most people acclimated to the Seattle weather dressed the way they wanted, regardless of the season. She just wanted to be sexy. She brushed her long hair until it shone and slipped large, gold hoop earrings in her ears. She sprayed on more Peony and stood, shoving her little stool back away from her old fashioned dresser that she’d bought at an antique shop for what she considered a steal. She stared at her Magnavox cell phone still lying on the bed. Sighed heavily, picked it up and hit 2 and # and send. Soon the phone was ringing on the other end.

Here, Alex said impatiently.

I thought you were going to call me?

Yeah...right. Sorry, hon. I was going to in a minute...promise. Just got busy with some papers is all. Then she thought she heard a female voice in the background.

Who was that?

Uh...just the radio.

Oh? She was dubious. And she should have been. She would learn later that Lucy, Alex’s wealthy wife, had decided to pay him a visit. We still on for tonight?

Course...Kathryn.

Can you pick me up? I thought it would be nice if you took me to that new Peruvian restaurant you’ve been raving about.

There was some hesitation in his response. I...I don’t think so. Not tonight, Kathryn. Have far too much to do. Why don’t you just come on over here, and on the way, grab a couple of sandwiches and sodas from Subway. Can’t keep a late night. Too much work to get ready for tomorrow’s presentation. The big boss is going to be in from our firm in New York.

You didn’t mention it last night?

I didn’t know about it until today! he said, showing impatience. Look...if you want to see me...? You do want to see me? Right?

Yes. Of course I do.

Then why is it so hard to just do as I ask?

Okay, Alex. No problem. But she was very disappointed. Lately he never took her out. She always had to go see him. She always had to grab the food. Still, she didn’t want to admit the ugly fact that he was using her for sex and nothing more.

That’s my girl, he said, softening his tone. I’ll take you to that Columbian restaurant next week.

"Peruvian! Alex. You said it was Peruvian."

Right. I stand corrected. Gotta go. She you in a few. He hung up before she could say another word.

George slipped in and stood by her.

Dammit! she threw her phone across the room. Luckily, it landed on a cushioned chair. She realized she couldn’t afford to buy another phone right now. The action had been really stupid. Why does he do this to me? she cried. Why?

George, absorbing the moment and every word said, Because you let him.

She spun around. "Who’s there?"

He kept silent. He’d spoken before thinking. A no-no. Certainly nothing he was going to mention to his elders.

She stood for several seconds looking around and then seeing no one shrugged and retrieved her phone. She wasn’t going to waste her beautiful dress on sandwiches and quick sex. She changed into jeans and a white sweatshirt and was out the door – George at her heels.

Just as Kathryn reached Alex’s apartment and was about to ascend the steps, the door opened and Alex and Lucy stepped out. Kathryn ducked behind a large green garbage can while they said their goodbyes and Lucy skipped on down the steps and into a waiting yellow cab. Before Alex could close the door, Kathryn dashed up the stairs and confronted Alex with the fact that he was just with his wife.

It’s not what it looks like, Kathryn, he said. She just came by to ask me if I needed money.

So that’s why you kissed her?

You were spying on me? He said, anger rising in his voice.

No! I just got here and saw you two come out the door.

You were spying! He was about to get ugly.

I said...I just got here. And here’s your damn sandwich, she snapped, and shoved the sack in his hands, turned and went to walk away. But he grabbed her by the shoulder.

Hey! Don’t go away mad, Kathryn. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped back, arms out apologetically, still holding the bag in his right hand. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you spying on me.

She sniffled and faced him straight on. I really wasn’t, Alex. But she knew she had.

He dropped his arms down to his sides. Here...here, he said and his frown slowly blended into to a near smile. He brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes as though he cared and took her in his arms, now with a smirk she couldn’t see. It’s all right. Just trust me. He escorted her on into the building.

George eyed Alex’s somewhat faceless slip-in (who had also chosen not to have his Earth features, leaving his face a foggy blur) who just shrugged and commented he had others to check on and left. George followed the couple up to the third floor and room 310 where Alex lived.

Alex wolfed down his meatball sub in no time and had a couple of beers while waiting for Kathryn to finish her vegetarian. She barely put her wrapper in the trash and he was undressing her and shoving her on the bed. He didn’t even bother with foreplay, much to her surprise, just ripped her expensive Dillard’s panties off and crudely forced himself into her and started slamming away like some animal. She was shocked and horrified. She cried out, beating him with her fists and asked him what he thought he was doing. Another surprise, he slapped her hard across the face; something he’d never done before, then said, Just giving you what you want, tramp.

My God! You ape! Get off me! She shrieked.

It was apparent that he wasn’t about to let her go now. He hit her with his fist this time and thrust into her with all his might. This is what you want...you little whore. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it. Can you? Sleeping around with a married man! he chided. What makes you think I’d want you when I’ve got a wife like Lucy? You’re nothing to me but a piece of easy ass. Second grade at that. She knows I love her. And, her old man has money! Lots and lots of money. I’m not about to divorce that. Just needed to get her a little jealous...make her appreciate me. I promised her I’d get rid of you tonight. I can’t break my promise to my own…very rich…wife. He came then and vibrated into her. When finished, he slapped her across the face again and jumped off. Then adding insult to injury, he yelled at her to stop her whimpering and get her slutty ass out of his apartment and not to ever call him again. She’d left her panties on the bed. He snatched them up, finished ripping them in half and tossed them at her.

Kathryn, sobbing and glaring at Alex, pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible, tucked her ripped panties in her purse and fled out of the apartment to her car and took off (George right beside her). She ran through two red lights and had three close calls, not bothering to yield for Stop signs before getting to her own apartment, where she just sat in her car for a long time and bawled hysterically. She had never been so humiliated or felt so cheap and degraded in her entire life. What really hurt, she had really cared about him. Thought she was in love with him and him with her. And he was just using me!

She cried out, hands gripping the steering wheel. Just using me! She sniveled and laid her head on her arms.

George wanted to comfort her. But couldn’t. After she went up to her room and fell into bed, he went on to check on the two men in his charge, barely spending fifteen minutes with either, and was right back with Kathryn. He watched her cry until four a.m. She finally rolled over and drifted off into a restless slumber.

George had had enough. He decided to pay Alex a little visit, banking on the hope that the jerk’s slip-in wouldn’t be there, since it was the wee hours of morning, a time when many of the slip-ins took breaks. He lucked out. When he got there, the man was in a deep sleep on his back. George materialized, picked up the pillow on the opposite side of Alex and slowly bent over him. Wake up, Alex, he ordered in a not so kind voice. Alex’s eyes popped open just in time to see George applying the pillow over his face. He tried to scream but his voice was muffled and George was too quick. He put up a good fight, but the slip-in overpowered him with little effort.

The next morning the cleaning lady found Alex Jones badly entangled in his comforter. It looked