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An hour had passed.
“And, where is your woman?” Mary asked with accusation.
“Firstly, she isn’t my woman. Secondly, I don’t know where she is.”
“Why should we hide? We are ‘vegetables’!” She said almost proudly.
Michael ignored her question and kept watching the entrance door of the building where was the apartment with unconscious George lying on the bed.
“Why don't you answer me?”
“Because you ask stupid questions,” he explained patiently.
“Let’s say…”
“Oh!”
“Let's say I'm curious…”
“No, you’re not. Your questions are stupid! Is that clear?”
“Pretty much! I won’t play your games!”
“Again from the TV?” He asked almost menacingly.
“No,” the girl muttered insulted. “That’s how George’s neighbors argued.”
“How?”
“Well, it's a long story...” Mary blushed for some reason and turned away.
Another hour had passed.
“Run!” Michael whispered, grabbing her by the hand. She gasped in surprise and ran after him, stumbling. “Come on, faster!”
They ran into the entrance. The metal armored door slammed behind them shut with air and the little old ladies sitting near on a branch which also were George’s neighbors shuddered scared: not a single leaf stirred. Jumping over the stairs and practically dragging Mary behind him, Michael ran into George's apartment. More precisely, they walked through the doors to his apartment and knocked over a flower on their way. The room was empty. No people, no spirits.
“Well, why did we come here? Where is your woman?”
“We were waiting not for her!” The imp answered her on the go. “We were waiting for everyone to leave the apartment.”
“But no one was here!”
“He mustn’t notice us either!”
“Alright! I’ll be quiet! Just don’t get angry!”
While Michael was rushing around the apartment, opening windows and doors, Masha was sitting on the sofa and biting her nails, grumbling something under her breath.
“You know,” he suddenly turned around, “you weren’t a very smart angel, so you probably shouldn’t be a human at all. What the hell I was thinking about?” He said, looking at her mindlessly spitting pieces of nails.
He looked at her carefully again and began to rush around the apartment again, trying to do everything until the George’s soul or other unwanted visitors had come. And since Michael left the front door wide open waiting for that same woman, anyone could come in.
They heard some rustling noises from the kitchen. Michael shuddered scared and turned around.
“It’s Georgie,” he whispered to Mary, grabbed her by the sleeve of the dress and began to look around in search of a place to hide.
Noises from the kitchen became louder, clearly approaching, and Michael again rushed around the room.
“Wardrobe!” She whispered and pulled him to the old double wardrobe, which didn’t fail to creak when they opened it.
George's soul ran from the kitchen into the room just at the moment when they closed the doors of the wardrobe from behind. Michael chuckled, leaning uncomfortably against the wall of the wardrobe.
“Why are you laughing?” Mary asked and smiled in spite of herself too.
“I remembered a joke...” He gri
ed again.
Standing in the middle of the room, George was examining everything. He didn’t notice the open front door and Michael managed to close the windows before his arrival having aired the room in advance: the fresh air never hurt anyone, even ghosts.
George calmed down. He now had more important questions to worry about, but there was no one to answer them, since no one could see him. All that he knew about his current life is only what he managed to memorize from some spirit who made brief almost two weeks ago. He sat down next to his physical shell and started thinking, smiling sadly. Could all this be true? And is it fair that now when he’s on the edge of life it became more intense and interesting than all these years?
“What joke?” The discussion in the wardrobe resumed.
“Once a husband came from a business trip...” Michael answered in a whisper.
George plainly heard a woman’s laughter from somewhere. He jumped off the sofa. At that moment, a drunk laughing woman rushed into the room. George bounced off, looking for a corner where no one would have noticed him: just human fears and subconsciousness snapped into action.