The Guardian

The Guardian
Mr. C. went over his agenda for the day as he grabbed his briefcase. Locking the car, he smiled at the sign that marked the parking space as his own. He wasn’t getting any younger and was grateful that he didn’t have so far to walk now.
Exchanging the usual pleasantries with associates, Mr. C. grabbed a cup of tea on the way to his office. Once in his office, he set the cup on his desk and verified his schedule. Another long day; there were no cancellations. It seemed there was never enough time.
Mr. C. had spent years learning to help others. His chosen field of expertise had come naturally to him, and he devoted himself to it. He had a wall full of certificates and achievements. Pursuing years of education, he never married. He was simply happiest when helping people.
People sought him and his help. Mr. C. was easy to talk to and trustworthy. They knew they could tell him their secrets, things they could tell no one else. He never judged or belittled anyone. Secrets are a heavy burden, carrying enough shame. He was a safe haven.
All day, Mr. C. listened. He guided with gentle advice. He helped find answers and resolution. He offered understanding. This is why they came to him, so this is what he offered.
At the end of the very long day, Mr. C. felt he had fulfilled his purpose. It was time well spent. He packed up his briefcase, knowing he would not open it once home. With one last glance at the next full schedule, he turned off the light and locked the office door.
The drive home was not a long one. Tired, he stopped to pick up fast food to take home. He never cooked anymore. This was just easier, for so many reasons.
Juggling the food, briefcase, and keys as he walked up to the front door, Mr. C. thought of his old cat. He hadn’t seen Tiger for quite some time. He missed his old friend, and wondered what had happened to him.
With a heavy sigh, Mr. C. carefully moved into the house and down the narrowed hall. Inching past the tall stacks of papers, along with assorted full boxes and bins, he headed for his place in the corner. Once he wiggled into his chair, he set the fast food out onto his lap. Tossing the wrappers aside with the others, he told himself he would worry about them another time.
Story and Image: McGuffy Ann Morris

6 thoughts on “The Guardian

  1. Wonderful story, Annie! I loved the contrast between his public image and his private life, it goes to show how little we sometimes really know about the people we interact with. Very well written… you should do more like this! :-)) Thank you so much for joining me at Two Shoes Tuesday!


  2. I like your story, Ann. I identified with it all the way, even being a terrible messy. My offic was messier than our home except for my home office. Mrs. Jim keeps me picking up things at home.

    Also Mrs. Jim is a social worker, retired, which your Mr. C. very well may be.

    Our cat died years ago, in her sleep in the flower bed. We didn't wonder. We didn't wonder either about our dear Adi, a beagle dog, our pet. Her obit:
    Adi was a very good dog (link)


  3. Your words draw pictures in my mind while conjuring up memories of people who fit the description of Mr.C in my life. I know this person … or at least I know the person in the office gathering secrets as his service. The person at home, alone, no cat, he make me sad for him. Amazing how you can stir the pot of feelings in so few words. Very well done, again, Annie.



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