100 Challenge - 7. Heaven

7. Heaven

"Devil Witch!" A curled up drunken man yelled on his usual park bench, littered with empty cheap wine bottles and assorted litter. He kicked his foot out, his rugged shoes only making contact with the wooden arm of the bench.

"Good morning to you too Bob." The woman sat on the end of the bench said to him. She was a slender young thing, light fair hair and pale clam eyes. Bob grumbled as he sat himself up. He never did like it when she 'sat' on his feet, over his feet, through his feet. It just didn't feel natural.

"Mornin' Witch." Bob smiled his yellow decayed smile while digging around for his wine bottle. The woman winced a little at the pet name Bob had given her but smoothed her face back into a smile. Bob unscrewed his bottle and took a deep longing swig from it. "So, what's the plan for today, Witch?" He finally asked her.

"Got the morning off Bob, I get to do as I please, and doing as I please includes sitting here on my favourite bench in my favourite park soaking up the sun and watching the people stroll by." Witch smiled and titled her head back to the sun which was now shining bright on them. She then looked down and towards the crowds of people streaming into the park on this warm summer's day. Families out enjoying themselves, couples in love, old people going for a daily walk, Witch surveyed them all and her face fell to a small grim smile of knowing. She shook off the thoughts that had followed and looked toward Bob now, then to the people. Some Fathers were shielding their children away from the smelly old tramp, and Spouses grips tightened from fear. But no one looked Witch in the eye. They just looked past her, through her, just a drunken tramp talking to him self.

"I've always wondered why you could see me Bob." Witch said, not really to him. "Why, out of the hundreds of thousands of people I see a day, only you can see me." She mused a little longer, surveying the tramp next to her. He dug around in his pocket and produced a little bag full of dropped and stubbed cigarettes. He chose a particularly long one and lit up.

"Maybe I'm dead," Bob replied to her thoughts from before, "maybe I'm dead, but I don't know it."

"I'd know it," she replied quickly. "It's my job to know." Witch scrunched her face up at the thought; there was a little doubt inside her as she thought his words over. "No, nonsense! Utter nonsense!" Bob let out a hearty cackled laugh, loving that he'd nearly got her.

"Always think you know everythin', but you know nothin'," Bob took another deep drag on the stolen cigarette and another deep swig from the bottle. Sometimes, when he saw families and the like in the park, he sometimes wished for better things. He was happy with his lot, but just sometimes he wondered where he'd gone wrong, what he'd done, who he'd pissed off. He was old now, older than he dared think, he should be in a home, with a blanket and slippers and coco on an evening. Not smoking stolen cigarettes, drinking cheap wine and sleeping with newspapers on a bench. Where'd he go wrong...?

Witch studied Bob as he slipped into his mind, the alcohol dragging him down into some dark deep thoughts. He still smoked, and still drank, but his eyes were glazed over, deep in that thought. "Bob?" Witch finally said as she finished soaking up her morning sun, enjoying the peace and quiet for a little. "Bob? I have to get to work, my shift soon." She stood up and brushed herself down, not that she really needed to. Bob was still lost in his thoughts. "Bob." She placed her hand on his shoulder and he came back to reality with a crash.

"Ah get away wi' yourself." He brushed her hand away and flicked the smouldering end of his cigarette away in a long arch. "See you later, Witch." Bob smiled his smile again and snuggled himself back on the bench, ready to sleep through the afternoon in a drunken haze.

"See you around, Bob." Witch walked off, ready to get on with her work. She glanced back at Bob and looked a little above his head, sighed, and walked on. Witch didn't know why Bob could see her, no one else could really see her, not even in their last moments could they see her. Only when people passed on could she be seen. Her job was then to take them to Heaven after their death, and make it as peaceful a transaction as it could be.

Witch knew the reason why she appeared on the bench, the ground around it used to be a church site many, many years ago and there, where that bench was erected, there used to be a sacred alter, which in turn held the sacred threshold. But why Bob could see her was another matter entirely. Maybe he was dead and she'd missed it? "I mean he is living a half life. And he's spent a good amount of his life on the sacred threshold." She mumbled to herself, walking on, checking people as she did, seeing their life in years, months, days, minutes, seconds. With Bob she was certain he had one year, ten months, six days, nine hours and six seconds. She saw it when she talked to him, his life ebbing away and she could see when he died, how it happened exactly; lying on his bench, his liver disease finally taking him on to his better place.

Witch thought of the matter a little longer and then decided to leave it at that. There was a nice old lady ready to be taken to Heaven who had been waiting 87 years, six months, fifteen days, eleven hours and fifty five seconds to go there. She was very sweet about the whole thing, Old people usually were. They were ready, especially when they died peacefully in their bed. It was the young and restless that put up more of a fight. Witch sometimes had to spend hours calming down the dead, promising them that everything was going to be fine when they got to Heaven and no they weren't going to Hell, that wasn't in her Job Description.

Witch had never lived a life. She'd been born in Heaven, or created in Heaven, by Him. It was then her Job to make sure the souls of the Dead made their correct way to Heaven in a peaceful manner, without getting lost. If they get lost, they roam, and if they roam they get ghostly and spook the living. Those that had lived an okay life were welcomed by open arms. Then there were just the down right sinful. They went to Hell, helped by people with the same Job Description as Witch, just less peaceful and more a reminder of their wicked life.

Her official name was an Angel, but that word had become muddied along the way, and introducing herself as an Angel now got some very funny looks. Instead she was now known as a Celestial Liaison Officer. Witch preferred it, the Name had a better, more important meaning to it now. More modern too. The 'Devils' from Hell were now given new Job Titles as well, they were now Persecution Executives.

She finished up with her shift, if Witch were human she would have felt 'beat' or 'tired' but these feelings didn't wash over her, instead she was just sluggish in her mind and wanted to get back to the bench. The park was closed now, gates locked tight, but that didn't stop her slipping through, undetected. Witch rounded the corner and locked eyes to the bench; Bob was sprawled out on it, probably in a drunken stupor. But something wasn't right, Witch thought. She could no longer see Bob's time. It wasn't counting down anymore.

"Bob!" Witch broke out into a sprint to the tramp and knelt down beside him. She couldn't touch him but she could see he wasn't breathing and giving the bench a thorough look she found a bottle of pills and his beloved drink. "Dammit!"

"It's blasphemous to curse you know." A Persecution Executive came out from the shadows, dragging Bob by the collar. Witch glared at the pair of them, not knowing who she was more angry with, Bob for committing suicide or the Devil for getting here so quick and mocking her.

"You can't take him Devil. He's done nothing wrong, you know that." Witch spat at him. Devil smiled and released Bob with a shove in the back. Witch helped the Tramp up and wrapped an arm around his.

"I know, but you see we all know that this one is your little human pet, and the thought of angering you just thrills me." The Devil smirked, sweeping his dark hair back in a triumphant movement. Witch looked at Bob and squeezed his arm, smiled and let him go, promising nothing bad was going to happen. She then took a few steps up to Devil, looking him in the eyes.

"This isn't over. I swear I'll get you back for this." Witch knew that the Persecution Executives loved to actually sit on people's shoulders and whisper dark thoughts into their minds and she knew that Devil had done this to Bob today, messing up his countdown timer.

"Ooh, and here was me thinking that you Celestial Officers were all forgiving and peaceful." He mocked her. Witch calmed herself down; she couldn't afford to get into trouble, not with Bob to sort out.

"Leave Devil, and we'll leave it at that." It took all of Witch's effort not to punch the smug idiot in his idiot face. Devil laughed a hearty laugh, showing off his dangerous razor teeth.
"I preferred you when you were angered," he smiled down at her and gave her soft silk hair a gentle tug and deeply inhaled in her neck. Witch's skin crawled as he did this. She detested Devils, this one in particular; they could do anything and get away with it while she had to remain sweet and forgiving. He walked off into the shadows, laughing to himself.

"Bob," Witch turned to him and smiled her best smile possible. Devil was right, she did have a soft spot for Bob. He'd kept her sane through their talking and it nearly choked her to think that his human body was a few feet away, dead.

"I'm sorry Witch, it all got too much and I took an easy route out." Bob looked sheepish, looking down at his feet. Witch sighed once more for the Drunk and took his arm in hers again.

"You're forgiven." She began to walk with him. "Now, let's get you sorted."

As Bob blinked a quick blink the world he knew slipped away and when he reopened his eyes moments later he felt at peace. He felt warm. He hadn't felt warm for years.

"Don't suppose you'll visit?" He asked a little hopefully. Witch shook her head slowly, no. She helped him into a comfy chair by a fire and wrapped a blanket around him. She then slipped a pair of slippers onto his feet and left coco on a table beside him. Witch placed a little kiss on top of his wispy haired head. "Ah get away wi' yourself."