L and 36
He winced as the wooden sliver pierced his flesh, a small amount of blood began to flow. He ran his tongue through his mouth, removing the crimson color. He pulled his lips back, and bobbed his head up and down, examining the rows of white teeth. When he was sure no bits of food remain trapped, he discarded the toothpick and moved closer to the mirror. He pulled up on one nostril, and peered into the blackness, searching for any stray hairs that could provide later embarrassment. He turned his head from side to side, trying to get a full view of his hair. He gently manipulated it around his head. He took two steps back and began to patiently brush his shoulders and sleeves, removing any color other than black.
When the ritual was completed, he took one more step back and fully admired the work of art he had created. His suit was a cut of perfection, gliding over his body so smoothly it looked like a layer of black wool skin. It bore no designer tags, he sneered at the thought of buying anything that was not made by hand. The thought of purchasing an article of clothing that could have touched or even worse, been worn by someone else made him gag.
He took one last look at himself, he thought again about his tie. The powder blue silk was wrapped perfectly around his neck. Tie or no tie? He couldn’t make up his mind. I don’t want to be over dressed, and I do have about three hours on the train. But, a man always must look his best, and you’re better than the best. The tie stayed. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, and stuck his chest out at the mirror. He exhaled in a grunt of satisfaction and vanity. Goddamn, I look good.
He stepped through the door way and into the immaculate office. The city glowed with the lights of night, creating a cast of shadows through out the dark room. Not bothering to turn on any lights, he picked up the slick chrome briefcase from off a chair and glided out the door.
The remainder of the office, normally brisling with life well into the night, was quite. All though many worked past the fall of the evening sun, no shades of grey, blue, or black suits occupied any of the conference rooms. The supporting employees, secretaries, and the meager staff had long left the building, returning to their version of life. Their lives, what a joke. Family was nothing but an excuse to stop working. The thought of marriage never seemed like a wise business venture, even though he did embark on one many years ago. To say it turned into a financial loss was an understatement. Everyone turns out to be a disappointment in the end.
He clutched the briefcase as he made the rounds of his pockets, confirming everything was in the correct place; wallet, keys, phone. Wasn't there something else? He checked his watch one last time, as he made his way through the dark lobby and approached the bank of elevators. 11:35, right on schedule. Five minutes to reach my car, 20 minutes travel time to the station, 20 minutes to check in and make it to the terminal. More than enough time. Running like a machine.
He jabbed a fat finger into the recess of the elevator's down button and waited for a moment. The lack of a quick response to his demand irritated him. He responded by stabbing the button furiously. A small sharp ding from the bell announced the arrival of one of the cars. 'Bout goddamn time. He stepped into the small box suspended 36 stories above the basement. The expensive interior was covered in black marble, a row of buttons set on a brass plaque was mounted to the right of the door. A single light was set into a matching brass fixture in the middle of the ceiling. Its florescent glow cast an unnatural light.
Again, his lack of patience was vented on the elevator buttons. A sharp poke at the lobby button, and a feverish assault on the switch that closed the doors did little to settle his anger. All this fucking technology, and it still doesn't speed things up. There's always some shit to keep me waiting. To add to the insult, the elevator doors closed slowly with out a care for the reddening face of its occupant. Come on goddamn it!
The elevator started the slow decent down the central spine of the structure. The lone passenger tapped his foot, not to a memory of music, but to express his dissatisfaction to a lifeless conductor. He felt the overwhelming urge to make of most of the time. Never waste a minute. Subconsciously, he slipped a hand into the pocket of his coat and grasped for the train ticket. His fingers meet the inside lining of his suit. They fumbled around the empty space for a moment before the meaning struck him. Shit! I forgot the fuckin' ticket. The fury of his mistake released waves of helpless anger. He had to go back up to his office and retrieve the forgotten ticket.
Furiously, he punched the button marked 36. The elevator suddenly lurched as if hit by something. An alarm sounded somewhere in the concrete shaft below him. It echoed for a moment before it was overtaken by silence. With confusion smeared across his face, he stood perfectly still, searching for the feeling of a moving box. Nothing could be felt, not the gentile sideways motion or a slight feeling of weightlessness. He glanced at the panel of buttons. Only two were illuminated; L and 36.
The look of confusion slowly washed from his face. It tightened into a ball of anger. What the fuck is this shit! Of all the goddamn times… His speech digressed into an assault of vulgarity and hate. His fist pounded the 36 furiously. When that failed to gain a response, he laid into the L with the same malice force. He didn't stop the blows until a sharp pain made its way from his hand through his body. Examining his knuckles, he observed torn skin surrounding a small cut of red. Taking care not to get any blood on his clothing, he began pounding the buttons with his other hand. The elevator remained quiet and unmoving.
Son of a bitch! I don't need this right now! He straightened himself and regained composure. Exploring the rows of buttons, he sight fell on one marked 'alarm'. He pushed it, holding the button down as he counted in his head. One…two…three…The same distant alarm sounded far below him. Waiting in silence, he listened for a response to his rage of unhappiness. No sounds responded. Someone is going to pay for this shit. I don't care who it is, but it's going to be someone. Some dipshit elevator repairman, the building's security…hell…I going to lay into Janice tomorrow for not putting the fucking train ticket in my pocket liked I asked. Janice, his simple minded secretary, was always content to do nothing more than serve his daily needs. She lived her life for the birthdays and the parties, the office gatherings, always looking for some way to brighten up someone else's day. He enjoyed her attempts at cheering up the dismal atmosphere, he enjoyed them because they gave him the chance to pushing them back in her face. It was a symbol of his own strength and independence from emotion. For his last birthday, she brought in a cake decorated with a cliché message. He let it sit on his desk all day without touching it, before dumping it in the trash on his way out the door. He made sure she saw him do it. Now it was her fault he had left with out the ticket. I'm going to chew her ass so hard she's going to burst into tears. Good. Maybe that'll make her understand how important my time is. I hope the bitch packs her shit and walks out, every-goddamn day I have to put up with her crap. 15 years of her stupidity and she still can't do anything right.
His body twitched as if it were possessed with anger. Moving closer to the control panel of the elevator, he mashed both fists into the buttons no longer caring what was pushed. When his hands becomes sore, he placed one of them on the wall to steady himself and begin to kick what he had been punching. A few moments passed, he tried to collect himself. His body heaved with every breath as his lungs tried to catch up. Sweat had broken out across his forehead.
His eyes scanned the walls of his cell. The slick surfaces gave no answers. His sight lingered for a moment on the ceiling of the elevator. In the far right corner, set into the marble was a small metal emergency hatch. Fuck that. He tired to focus his thoughts on the up coming trip. Think about work. I'm going to miss the goddamn train! I have more riding on this. He sucked in a quick breath as he remembered his mobile phone. Goddamn it! He slapped himself for his own stupidity. Digging again in his pocket, he pulled the phone free. Excited, he pushed the buttons only to stop when he saw the message 'no service'. Motherfucker! In his renewed anger, he slammed the phone down. It struck the marble floor and dissolved into pieces of plastic and metal.
If someone doesn't get this thing moving right now, I'll kill them when they do. He looked around the small tight room. He never had suffered from closterphobia, but the small space seemed to be constricting around him. He reached around his neck and starts to loosen the tie, but stopped abruptly. Always look your best. A lesser man would dishevel himself for mere minutes of comfort, a lesser pathetic person. Always look your best. Straightening himself again, he ran his hands over his suit smoothing it. Shit! Forgetting about the cut on his hand, he strained as he searched for any sign that the fluid has left a mark. This is ridiculous.
He paced inside the box, turning in circles, he racked his mind. The idea of being trapped until the next morning was not only unacceptable, it was absolutely inconceivable. He formulated plans of escape, and vengeance against the person who was going to pay for this travesty. He paused every few minutes to try the elevator buttons again, first L, then 36. He laid his hand on the alarm and listened to it ring out on some distant floor below him. He held it so long that when he finally released it, the sound still echoed in his mind. I'm all alone. For the first time, he began to feel scared.
He stood facing the closed doors of the elevator wondering how high up he really was. The bank of elevators serviced the upper floors of the building; floors 30 through 40. He guessed he had made it about half way down before the car refused to move any further. That would put him somewhere around the eighteenth floor, give or take. He began to wonder when someone was going to notice that he was not around. He was unmarried, divorcing his wife several years ago because she refused to accept the fact he did not want a family. He became so feed up with her during one of their nightly arguments, he torn several handfuls of her clothing from her closet and stuffed them into a duffel bag. He threw the bag at her, demanding the she leave his house. You want a family? You want more than what I've given you, you stupid bitch? Then get out and find someone one who gives a shit about your pathetic dreams cause I don't! Last he heard, that's exactly what she did. She left him, she had left him alone. The thoughts of her renewed his anger. You fuckin' bitch. You didn't leave me, I threw you out! I left you, you bitch! I left you! He charged the row of buttons, and began to smash fist and foot into the round pieces of plastic, hitting them harder and harder. I left you! I'm the one who didn't need you! You fucking bitch! His mind was a frenzy. He pulled one fist back, the anger radiated off of him. He swung one last blow at the buttons, his hardest yet. There was a crack as something behind the panel broke, the lights in the elevator flickered once and die. He was no longer standing in the elevator. He was standing in absolute blackness.
No, no no… His thoughts trailed off. He franticly felt his way around the enclosure, his hands slid from one wall to the next. He was moving across the rear wall when he placed his foot on something in the chaos. The slick metal surface of his briefcase sided across the marble floor taking his leg with it. With nothing to support his weight, his body tumbled backwards into darkness, a small sharp cry escaped from his lips. He landed hard on his back, his head bounced off the floor. A stabbing pain shot from his upper thigh. His arms flailed in the darkness as he tried to struggle to his feet. A tearing sensation ran down his leg. Panic overwhelmed his mind. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? He reached around to the source of the pain, and touched something. Lightning shot through his leg. He pulled his hand back, it was sticky and wet. Something just bit me in the ass. What the fuck?!?! Something just bit me in the ass! What the is in here?!?!
He pushed his body along the back of the elevator and into the corner kicking wildly at the darkness in front of him. He pressed himself into the corner, again he lashing out. There’s a fucking rat in here! It was a rat that bit me. Wasn’t it? What the hell could have bit me? What is that sound?!?! It is the first time he realized he was crying. He whimpered with every breath and his body is shook, sweat was running down his forehead. He willed himself to be quiet, trying desperately to hear over his own fear, but nothing could be heard over the sound of silence. Slowly he reached around to examine the injury more carefully. Gently, his fingers explored the ragged tear in his pants. His hand brushed against something hard sticking out of his skin, pain rippled through his leg. A feeling he could only describe as relief flowed into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he ripped the broken piece of phone free and flung it down in disgust. What the hell is going on? Shit like this does not happen to someone like me. He felt flustered and embarrassed at his over reaction. Damn it! First he had been trapped by a broken elevator, causing him to miss his train then, he lost his phone. The fact that his suit was now nothing more than rags drilled a hole in his mind. Someone get me out of here! Someone help me!
He fumbled over to the buttons next to the door, no longer caring or thinking about his briefcase. He punched the buttons in the darkness, any of them, all of them. Pounding the numbers, he became aware that his sobs were once again echoing off the cool interior. Ignoring them, he struck even harder. One of his violent actions hit the panel hard and a dull thud was heard somewhere in the wall. Suddenly, there was light.
He blinked in the soft glow trying to understand where it was coming from, the light over head was still dark. He looked down at the panel of buttons, two were light up; L and 36. Oh for Christ’s sake, I don’t care, just take me somewhere, anywhere! Get me out of here! The air suddenly become heavy and thick as if it were weighted down by his own feelings of helplessness. His breaths were slow and painfully deep. He staggered back into the wall of the elevator, desperately trying to suck life into his lungs. His legs started to tremble under his own weight. Slowly his body slid down the wall and sank to the floor. His only thoughts were focused on trying to fill is chest with air, but each gasp felt like he's trapped in a vacuum. Dizziness slowly spread through is mind. Oh Christ, don't pass out. Shit, don't…
He’s standing in his office, the sun is flowing through the large windows. He scans the room, searching for some anchor to reality. What am I doing here? He felt as if his mind was swimming in a bubble, nothing felt clear.
“Hello sir.”
The voice echoes around the room and comes at him from all sides. He senses movement behind him and turns to see a figure in the doorway, a chill shoots down his spine and shakes his body. A shadow stood in the doorway, an empty void complete with arms and legs. It begins to walk towards him, its dark form glides silently across the floor. He stares into its face. No features, just a swirling blackness consuming its expression. He backs across the floor, trying to get away, never taking his eyes off the dark shape. He tries to move faster, moving backwards in desperation. His body stumbles blindly into the wall, stopping his escape. He recoils in terror as the thing approaches. He wraps his hands around his head, covering his eyes. No! Get away from me! He shakes his head back and forth keeping his eyes snapped shut and covered. No! No! No! Suddenly he feels something embrace him; cold arms wrap around his neck. Oh god!
“Congratulations, oh how wonderful this is.”
With a cry, his body jerks back, his eyes pop open. He finds no hideous form, but his secretary, Janice. She has her arms wrapped around him, hugging him.
“I just wanted to be the first to tell you.”
She pulls back from him, a smile is light up across her face, her eyes are big and bright. He stares dumbly back at her, confused by the moment. What the hell is going on? He searches the lines in her face. Janice. His mind suddenly floods with the memories. Janice! Anger rises quickly through him. Janice! Where is my goddamn train ticket? I told you to put the damn ticket in my coat pocket. Her face shows a sudden look of shock.
“Ticket?” she asks. “But sir, I did just what you asked.”
Bullshit! Where’s the ticket Janice? He is slowly becoming furious. With fists clenched, his hands started shaking.. For fuck’s sake, where the goddamn ticket? She started backing away from him, fearful of his rage.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought I put the ticket in your pocket just like you asked.” Tears were starting to swell in the corners of her eyes.
Thought? You thought? You stupid bitch! Do you know what you did? Do you understand what you put me through? His mind is out of control, his whole body shakes uncontrollably. He moves after her as she retreats across the office floor. Do you have any idea? Do you? It all started with her. If she had only done what she had been told. His hate takes control of him as he raises his fist. You stupid, stupid person! You stupid bitch! He throws his fist at her face. She lets out a scream.
His eyes snapped open. Was I sleeping? He strained to make out the echo as it trickled through the darkness. What the hell was that? He held himself perfectly still, the sound of silence rolled over his ears. There it is again. Turning his head, he placed an ear against the wall. A hiss of white noise filled his head. Jesus, I’m losing my mind.
Sitting on the floor of the polished room, his eyes roamed the walls. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his own hug of self-pity. The elevator was still illuminated by the two buttons on the panel. The glow created deep lines of shadows in the crevasses of his face. He stared at the lights, his thoughts cause his eyes to go in and out of focus. The lights blurred between two and one and back. L and 36. L and 36. L36L36L36. He made no move to press either one. He had given up on the alarm. His only option was to wait until someone came for him. He closed his eyes, but the dim light was still able to penetrate his eye lids. An image of the two buttons burned in his mind. L36L36L36L36.
His eyes snapped open again as a sound rolled up through the shaft and entered the elevator. He listened to it softly resonate off the walls. It sounded like a laugh, a woman’s laugh. He held his breath, waiting for what would come next. Jesus, am I hallucinating? The sound came again, someone was laughing at him. Who is that? Who are you? He assumed the sound was coming from below him, but he realized he was no longer sure. The laughter sounded like if was coming from above and below. It almost seems as if it was coming from inside the elevator.
“What’s the matter Frank?”
The voice is so clear and close, he flinched in shock. His eyes darted around the small room. It remained empty.
“What’s the matter Frank?”
He recoiled again at the sound. His chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing. Who are you? The voice again repeated the question. His mind froze as he tried to place it with a face.
“What’s the matter Frank?”
Oh god, Sharon? He doubled over has if someone had kicked him in the stomach, knocking the air from his lugs. What do you want? He cried his questions into the dim darkness. What do you want from me?
“What’s the matter Frank?”
Nothing’s the matter. Leave me alone! A picture of her face formed in his head; every line, every wrinkle of her skin. Her phantom head floated in his mind. A pounding head ache began to beat in his head, like his ex-wife announcing her arrival.
What’s the matter Frank?”
Shut up! Shut up Sharon! I’m not asking you for help. I don’t need your help, I never needed you. He sputtered the words and spit as he did so. I threw you out, remember? I didn’t need you. He yells as his temper rises again. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help!
With a groan of stuff muscles, he forced himself to his feet, keeping a hand on the wall to remain steady. Carefully he tested his weak legs, hoping they would remain stable under his weight. He stood in the middle of the elevator searching the walls in the dim light, then he remembered the trap door in the ceiling. Ha! Ha! There was his way out. I’m not standing around like some poor animal. I have to take control!
He propped his briefcase onto its side. Placing one foot on top of it, he carefully applied more and more pressure. Once he was certain he could stand on it with out it tipping over, he stretched, reaching for the hole. His hands grasped the metal rim of the opening. His fingers strained as he steadied himself for a moment before summoning the strength to use one hand to jerk back the latch securing the door. The door swung down, releasing a rain of dust and soot. He coughed. Using his free hand, he desperately swiped at his face trying to keep the dirt out of his eyes. In his blindness, his grip on the metal rim loosened, and he crashed to the floor. His right foot landed on the edge of the briefcase bending his foot into an inhuman shape. Pain shot through his ankle. Unable to keep his balance, he found himself laying once again on the cold floor of the elevator.
A high pitched cry expelled from his lips, driven by pain. Get a hold of yourself! Get some control! Summoning the strength, he staggered to his feet, pain winced from his ragged ankle. He hobbled, but was able to keep his balance. Standing in the mellow light, he closed his eyes. You're pathetic. You didn't get this far up in life acting like a child. Get grip, get it done! He looked up at the open hole in the ceiling, the only way out. I'm going to climb through that hole. There has to be a ladder or something that I can climb down. The thought of descending down into darkness from such a great height with a now wounded ankle set off a spasm fear in his stomach. I'll get over that when I have to. I can get over anything.
In the soft light, he assessed his appearance. Dust and dirt was spattered across his white shit, the power blue tie now looked a little more gray. He brushed his hands across his cloths, small clouds of dust rose with the contact. The thought of doing any more damage to his wardrobe infuriated him. How do get out of this and still look the best? The answer comes to him. Grasping for the briefcase, he forced open the lid. The inside was a mess of papers and documents, but there was enough room. Quickly his fingers reached to the tie around his neck. He pulled it off in one fluid motion and laid it in the case, pausing for a moment to press it flat. Quietly, he continued to undress.
The lid of the briefcase strained under his demand to close it. Each article of clothing had been folded with as much care as he could give. He found his pants were not the wreck he thought they were. The tear in the fabric was much smaller than he first thought. Though the pants were ruined, he would still be able to ware them once he was out of the shaft. I'm going to look like a rose after going through this shit. Wearing only socks, shoes, and white cotton briefs, he placed his knee on the lip of the briefcase forcing it to close.
With renewed vigor, he stood under the opening in the roof. Hoisting the case over his head, he slide it half way through the opening. With one final push, the case moved through the hole and out of sight. With out the aid of the case to sand on, he positioned himself under the opening and calculated his jump. Favoring his left leg, he launched himself at the opening, making it just far enough to grasp the opening. Using his momentum, he pulled himself up and through the opening, resting his elbows on the outer edge. His legs, still inside the elevator, kicked wildly at the air in hope of gaining some footing. Pressing back, he wedged his body against the sides preventing himself from sliding back into the elevator. With grunts of agony, he forced his himself further and further through the hole. The briefcase was laying next to the opening, he flinched as he freed a hand to push it further away. He pushed the case off to the side to create more room, but it only slide a few inches before coming to a rest. Damn it, come on. With frustration, he shoved the case again, removing it from his path. It shot across the top of the elevator before reaching the edge of the roof, it teetered for a moment before toppling over the edge.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! He desperately lunged in the direction where the case went over the edge, devastated by the thought that he had just lost everything. Struggling to pull himself through the hole, his legs, still inside the elevator, kicked uncontrollably. They struck the elevator wall. An excruciating sensation shot from his ankle. He howled in pain as he desperately grasped at the opening. Oh shit, help! His body slide back into the marble room, his head cracked against the edge of the door and he dropped to the floor. Laying in the dim light, tears streamed down his cheeks, blood was smeared across his face. Squinting, he tried to focuse on the lights; L and 36. Someone, please help…please…someone… Slowly, the lights blend into one before they dimmed into darkness as he lost consciousness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The morning light beamed across the city. The tall buildings stood at attention, temples erected to the gods of commerce. She crossed the street keeping a watchful eye on the passing traffic. Pausing for a moment, she drained the last of her coffee before discarding the empty cup. The caffeine flowed through her body, but did little to energize her mood. He was out of town, but she knew there would be a mountain of work waiting for her. She started the day earlier than most, an extra hour just to keep up with his demands. Knowing that she would not have to see him relived little in her mind. He would still call her every hour demanding she fax or email papers to his attention. His gruff voice was just as grating over the phone as it was in person. She had learned to keep the conversations as simple as possible, emitting all person information. He hated hearing about "outside distractions". She remembered the day he learned she had a granddaughter. The thought of her family displeased him so greatly, he refused to look at her for the remainder of the day. What an asshole. The profane thought made her blush with embarrassment.
Entering the building, she made her way to the small coffee shop in the corner of the lobby. Extra caffeine was in order. She approached the counter and placed her order. Waiting as the young man mixed up her brew, her eyes wandered to a rack of greeting cards next to the register. Her eyes fixated on the one on the lower rack. Its cover was graced with a kitten chewing on a lemon peal. Its face appeared to be puckered, it's eyes closed tight. 'Don't Be A Sour Puss' declares the caption. She snatched it immediately. This would really make him mad. And how it would, not because of the card's subject, but because he hated the idea of affection. If anything, I'll show it to the other girls. They'll love it. Paying for the two items, she made her way to the row of elevators.
She pushed the only button, it was marked with an arrow pointing up. Waiting, she removed the card from her purse and examined the picture. She smiled. There was a faint ring of a bell as one of the elevators opened. She stepped through the door and froze, the card dropped from her hand. The half naked man was laying on his side, curled up like a baby, dirt and blood crust his face. Streams of tears cut their way through the grime and ran down each cheek. Her hand moved to her mouth, but her cry of surprise was blocked by the shock. OHMYGOD…
"Mr. Ulger!" His eyes cracked open at the sound of his voice, a faint noise emitted from his mouth. He strained his eyes for a moment before her face registered in his mind.
"Janice? Janice? Oh god, it that you?" He flopped into his hands, trying to sit up.
She rushed to his side, uncomfortable by his nakedness, but driven by pity. He grasped her, wrapping his dirty arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. His voice cracked with every sob. "Oh god Janice, thank you…thank you…" His body shook as he cries uncontrollable. She held him, rocking him back and forth. With one hand, she patted the back of his head, smoothing his hair.