Jessica closed her apartment door behind her. The action resulted in the obligatory closed-door sound of, "kerrpmt." It was set to automatic lock, so there was no need for any fumbling around in a bag for keys. Good. She was in a hurry. As she began walking down the hall, the sound of her short heels were muffled by the heavily stained royal blue carpet that was a holdover from the 1980s (ten years ago it had been baby blue and in ten year's time it would be navy blue). Dressed smartly, she was on her way to a reading at a small bookstore in Greenwich Village. The bookstore, what was it called again? Mike's or Marty's? Anyway, it was a name that began with M. One of her favorite authors, Amelia Lovelace Hawthorne, would be there. She'd be reading excerpts from her new work, "George Washington was a Stupid Idiot." As Jessica made her way to the elevator doors, she checked her smartphone for the name of that darned bookstore again. Huh. It was actually named Steve's. Well... maybe Mike's or Marty's was a pizza place next door? She hit the elevator call button and waited.
Ding. It arrived. She stepped inside. She was alone. She hit the ground floor button on the control panel. The doors closed.
As the elevator car, also a holdover- but from the 1950s, began to shuffle downward, Jessica wondered if Amelia Lovelace Hawthorne would stick around after the reading to sign some books. She planned to purchase, "George Washington was a Stupid Idiot," once she arrived at Steve's (it had just hit the shelves only a day earlier), but hoped that if Amelia Lovelace Hawthorne was indeed signing books, that she might also agree to sign a copy of Jessica's most favorite book of hers, the one she was currently carrying in her bag, "Thomas Jefferson Ate Major Donkey Dick." Both books were part of Amelia Lovelace Hawthorne's "All The Presidents Suck," series.
The car sputtered to a stop at the 12th floor. The elevator doors shambled to their respective sides allowing a new passenger to climb aboard. This one was a fellow. He wore shiny black shoes with maroon and gray argyle socks, black slacks, and a tucked-in white button up shirt. The two top buttons of the shirt were undone. Most likely he had been wearing a necktie earlier in the day, but if so, he had since removed it. Curiously, he had on no jacket... unusual for this time of the year. It had begun to get a bit chilly outside. He was fairly lean, but not anorexic, fairly good looking, but not Brad Pitt. Jessica's first impression was that whatever he did for work, his time on the clock was probably spent interacting more so with computers than with human beings. As he entered, he nodded at Jessica, and took a big step to the left.
"Three please."
What the fuck? Do I look like the fucking elevator operator, thought Jessica? Do they even have those anymore?? So you're on the other side of the car, it's only four feet away from the control panel, walk over and push it yourself. Also, why are you going from the 12th floor to the 3rd? Who goes from the 12th to the 3rd? What's on the 3rd floor? Do you have two apartments in this building? Are you friends with somebody else who lives in the apartment complex? Jessica had lived in the building for five years and never once had she ever even talked to a single neighbor, much less made friends with one. Not even to borrow a cup of sugar. Not even to say hello.
She scowled, reached out, and pressed on the round "3" button. It clicked and lit up. They rode down in silence, maintaining a comfortable four feet apart. The elevator car sputtered to another stop, this time at 8.
As the doors opened again, in walked the third passenger, this one a female. She definitely seemed to be on her way to a gym. She was carrying a gym bag and wore sweatpants that read PINK across the ass. And it was a nice ass. Round and plump. J-Lo's twin sister? She was wearing a black leather jacket that was stylishly too small and she had her shampoo-commercial brown hair up in a ponytail. She stood between Jessica and the fellow. She looked over at the control panel and saw that the ground floor button was already lit, so she stayed in place. Jessica wouldn't have minded as much if this woman had asked her to push a button.
The doors closed and the elevator car began clunking downward again.
Suddenly, it herky-jerky shook, three times, up and down, real fast, like an outdated airplane hitting heavy turbulence. And then, just as suddenly... a quiet stillness. Jessica looked up at the floor indicator positioned above the doors. It seemed as though the car was stuck between the 4th and 5th floor.
All three stood frozen in the warm orange glow of the elevator's ceiling lights.
"I think we're stuck," observed the gym hottie.
"Just give it a moment, it'll kick back in," the guy said. With that, the electronic buzzing of what sounded like a device from Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory crackled for all but two seconds, and what followed after was pitch darkness.
"Wow."
"Are we going to die," asked the gentleman, earnestly.
"No, we're not going to die," shot back Jessica, annoyed.
"This building is like, a million years old, I'm surprised this kind of shit doesn't happen more often," remarked the gym-goer, followed by a big pink bubble blown from her bubblegum, and a big pop of that same big pink blown bubble.
Jessica moved to the back of the elevator car and leaned against its wall. Damn it. Her face tightened up with frustration. She was going to be late now for the book reading. And if the elevator didn't start up again soon, she may even miss the whole blasted thing. Then she got a good idea.
"Press the emergency call button," she instructed to the guy without the necktie.
"That's a good idea," said the guy without a necktie. He walked over to the control panel. Using his cellular phone's screen as a flashlight, he found the emergency call button. He pressed it. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. Nada. He held it pressed in for ten seconds and said aloud, "hello, hello?" hoping someone, in some... elevator help station... could hear him.
He looked back at the other two, both of whom were partially illuminated in a shade of blue thanks to his phone screen. "It's not doing anything," he informed them.
"Why not," asked Jessica?
"Maybe it's not just an elevator problem. Maybe the whole city has lost its power," he answered.
"What, like a blackout," asked fit, gym chick?
"Yeah, like a blackout."
The three stood in darkness.
Awkward silent minute after awkward silent minute passed until at some point, awkward silent minute turned into boring silent minute.
"I'm Nadia, by the way," said Nadia, introducing herself to both of her elevator-mates.
"I'm William."
"I'm Jessica."
Pause.
"So," Nadia said, opting to fill the silent void yet again, "what are your guys' spirit animals?"
"Um... I don't really believe in spirit animals," answered Jessica, realizing that with that sentence, she had spoken more to fellow apartment complex dwellers in the past five minutes than she had previously done in the past five years.
"You don't?"
"Well... I mean, I suppose I might. But I don't think it's something we get to choose. I think it runs a little deeper than that."
"Yeah, well mine's a puma."
Jessica noticed that Nadia was wearing Puma brand sneakers. And wearing Puma brand socks. William chimed in.
"I think mine is a zebra,"
"Why a zebra," asked Nadia? William scratched his chin.
"Because... I... like... horses," he responded, figuring out the answer to her question while engaged in the very process of answering it.
"Why not a horse then," countered Jessica.
"Hmm," he thought. "Because I also like stripes."
