Shortstories

George

Ellen looked out from underneath her umbrella. The street was dark, except for the occasional passing car. It was a miserable night. The rain was a cold wet sheet that whipped the naked trees into submission. Ellen shivered into her fur coat, and sighed. What had gotten her into this mess again? George. George, her hapless friend. A man who had no survival skills. Ellen had no clue how George managed before meeting her. She often joked he had come from a different world. He is always calling her for help with menial and everyday tasks, seemingly confused by common knowledge and logic. This time she'd been called for help because the stove was making a weird hissing sound. He'd called her in a state of panic, sure his gas stove was leaking. Ellen, being the kind friend she is, rushed over there at this ungodly hour. When she got there, George flung the door open. He was red faced and gasping for breath and was muttering,"It's gonna blow. Ellen." Over and over. Ellen calmly walked into his apartment and carefully set George on the sofa instructing him to take deep breaths. Ellen rubbed his back for a bit, until finally George calmed down. His eyes were full of tears and he was hiccuping as he told her what happened in greater detail. Ellen smiled and patted George's head affectionally. She went over to the stove, the kitchen being part of the living room they were sitting in. She checked the stove. The hissing sound was not actually coming from it, but behind it. It sounded suspiciously like George's lost cat, Patricia. In a heroic rescue, Ellen moved the stove to find the cat (which had been lost for three days) huddled in a corner. When Patricia saw Ellen she leapt into her open arms. Ellen snuggled Patricia, cooing, and brought the cat to George. George grabbed Patricia scolding her for being a 'bad kitty' before suffocating the poor cat in a bear hug. The whole incident was cleared up and George called a taxi for her. Ellen laughed, remembering the antics of this evening. Just then she saw the yellow taxi make its way to her. It looked like a beat up tin can. And it didn't have headlights on. Which left Ellen with an inkling of doubt. The taxi idles up to her and the window rolls down. A gruff voice calls out to her,"Get in." Ellen opens the door and sits down on the seats. She shakes out her umbrella and closes it. She sets it down next to her in the seat. The taxi smells of cigarette butts and alcohol. And...oh god, is that vomit? Ellen starts breathing through her mouth. What a horrible taxi. The doors click, locked shut. The man doesn't make any idle chat as he starts driving the car. The silence settles on the car like a suffocating blanket, no more suffocating than the smells that have accumulated in the unwashed taxi seats. To distract herself, Ellen looks out the window. But the sight does not put her to ease. The streets aren't recognizable, she doesn't know where they are. How is that possible? They've only been driving for less than a minute. Dread settles to the bottom of Ellen's stomach. Ellen raps on the window that separates the driver from the backseats. The driver doesn't respond. However a hissing sound begins to fill the previously silent car. It sounded suspiciously like George's cat did in the apartment. "Patricia?"An uncertain Ellen calls out. Ellen begins to have a faint throbbing in her temples. She touches the windows only to be shocked by static electricity. Ellen shakes her hand. She begins to laugh hysterically, laughing louder because she is laughing. When the laughing subsides the faint throb evolves into a full fledged hammer ramming into her skull. Ellen's hysteria is rising. Take deep breaths, Ellen reminds herself. She's acting crazy. "You're acting just like George." She says with a giggle. "I bet I'm just imaging that we're on the wrong street!" Ellen exclaims. She hastily checks the window, to find her hopes immediately dashed. They weren't even in the city anymore. Ellen begins to pound on the glass divider. "Come on damn it." She lets out a scream. But it's useless there's no one to help her. "Help!" She calls out. Her eyes watering. Her throat starts to feel dry. Her eyes are red and blood shot. The hissing sound gets louder. Her breathing gets labored. "Air" she gasps. Then black overcomes her vision and buzzing fills her hearing. Just before she falls off the cusp of consciousness she hears eerie laughter.

Ellen wakes to harsh light and loud beeping. "Am I in a hospital?" Ellen wonders to herself. Her eyes haven't yet adjusted to the lift but she makes out George's voice arguing with a man's. She can't make out what they are saying but hearing George relaxes her. "George?" Ellen calls out uncertainly. She hears footsteps rush to her side. "Hey, shh." George puts his finger to her lips. "Ellen, it's going to be all ok." Ellen blinks her eyes a few times. The man before her was not George. He sounded like George, he looked like George, but he acted strange. He had this air of power, and this George looks like he could survive the apocalypse. "Who are you." Ellen asks harshly. The memory of the taxi finally resurfacing. "I'm George." He answers cheerfully. George's expression mocks disappointment. "Can't recognize me without cowering like a ditz?" He jokes. Ellen sufficiently convinced, cups her hands around George's face. "Where am I, George?" She feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
"Oh honey." George says pityingly. He brushes her tears from her eyes.
"You're somewhere far, far away." He says.
"Japan?" She says the first country to her mind.
"Farther. Way farther."
"Mars." Ellen jokes.
"Farther than that." George answers completely serious. Ellen springs up.
"Are you saying I'm not on Earth!" Ellen yelps, hysterically.
"You aren't even in the so-called Milky Way Galaxy." George answers. Ellen shakes her head.
"You're kidding." She slaps his arm.
"Cut it out."
"Ellen." George grabs her arm, a look of desperation clawing up on to his face,"There's no time for this doubt. You're on my home planet, Ethos. It's like Earth but we are light years ahead of Earthen technology. We've only recently discovered Earth." George rushes through the explanation.
"They want to use you as a lab rat to study sentient beings on Earth. But I've arranged a way to get you back home. You'll just never see me again. But it won't matter because I'll just erase all your memories of me and all of this." George's eyes light with hope.
"No." Ellen forcefully answers, surprising herself. This was the most exciting this to ever happen in her life. Like hell she's gonna just forget it. And George, poor helpless George. It wasn't until then, that she realized how enamored she is for George. This newly recognized feeling bubbles up and fills her with giddy feeling.
"I want to live here, with you. George," Ellen grabs his hands,"I love you." George sits there a moment stunned before his eyes flash angrily. "Ellen you don't understand. Lab. Rat. You won't be free to live with anyone. I couldn't bear to see you live like that." George cries. This answer fills Ellen's heart with yearning. Ellen brings her face closer to George's.
"Well, you'll just have to explain to them, that they would learn a lot more about Earth if I was a willing candidate." By the word candidate, Ellen's face was inches from George's. His green eyes meet hers and unable to stand it anymore, Ellen lifts her lips to his. Bright white light fills the room, blinding Ellen. Her hearing is overcome with buzzing,"George!" She screams.

Ellen wakes up. "What a weird dream." Ellen states. She stretches and is suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea. Ellen rushes to her bathroom. She pukes into the toilet and pulls her hair up. Ellen sighs, rinsing her mouth and spitting a few times. She looks like hell. Her eyes are clouded, and beneath them dark bags. Her skin is a sickly pale color. She splashes her face. It's six o clock. There's only an hour left before she has to go to work. Ellen quickly dons on her cop uniform, and runs a comb through her brown hair. She makes a loose pony tail and grabs a bagel. Munching on her breakfast Ellen heads out for the door. She opens the door to find it pouring out. Ellen grabs for her umbrella, but finds it missing. "Where's my umbrella?" Ellen wonders. She shrugs, rain doesn't bother her. She heads out the door, a faint ping of sadness hits her as she closes the door. Why does she feel like she's missing something. "It's my umbrella. Guess it meant more to me than I thought." Ellen surmises. Ellen heads out into the pouring rain. A few tears slipping out of her eyes as she does so. The feeling that she was missing something doesn't stop, even as Ellen lives out the rest of her life. Even after finding Fred, the love of her life. Even after having George, her only son. The feeling she is missing out on something spectacular haunts her for the rest of years. And a name in her mind that could never be placed with a face, George.