Short Story by Emily Dittrich
It’s early summer in Chicago Illinois and the misery brought on from blistering heat is second only to the misery from the record high humidity. A black sedan with a pink Lyft sticker pulls up in front of the Congressional Hotel and Conference Center. Andrew Mickelson steps out of the car. He’s in his late twenties with an average height and slim build. He has pale blue eyes, and his light blonde hair appears carefully styled. Tan colored chinos and a tailored light gray button up shirt adorn his lean frame. A pair of leather shoes in a dark caramel color complete the look. Without glancing at the building, he moves to the rear of the car to retrieve a small rolling suitcase and garment bag. After shutting the trunk door, he signals the driver, extends the handle on his suitcase, and slings the garment bag over his shoulder.
As the Lyft pulls away from the curb Andrew looks up at the building, taking it in for the first time. He looks quizzical and apprehensive. The hotel’s entrance was covered by an old, faded awning with cracked and peeling letters that had once spelled The Congressional Hotel and Conference Center, but now could only be legibly read as Th Congr ssio al Hot l an Co feren e enter. One of the sliding glass entrance doors leading to the lobby appeared to be stuck in the open position. Wiping away the beads of sweat that have already begun to form on his forehead, Andrew clenches his jaw and steps onto the curb and heads toward the entrance to the hotel. As Andrew approached the broken sliding door he paused. To the right of the door, half hidden by a planter of wilting vegetation, there was an aged bronze plaque. It read “~Congressional Hotel~ Established 1891 in Chicago, Illinois.” Andrew examined the plaque thoughtfully, but the heat quickly brought him back and he resumed his gait and headed inside.
After entering the lobby of the Congressional Hotel and Conference Center Andrew was immediately hit with the air blowing from one of four large noisy and rattling fans that were making a valiant attempt to keep the lobby cool. While the lobby of the Congressional was certainly a more comfortable temperature than the sidewalk outside, that was about the only positive thing Andrew could have said about it. It was clear that the lobby had once been quite grand. It boasted vaulted ceilings that met with carved arches of dark oak that cut into the marble walls. The arches had once been embellished with elaborate mosaics made from glass and tile, but many of the tiles were now missing, and cobwebs had begun to develop and expand their territory. The white marble floor was thoroughly scuffed and the walls that had been made from slabs of cream-colored marble had visible cracks. Someone had attempted to conceal the cracks by covering them with an assortment of unappealing paintings whose subjects included everything from hunting dogs and frowning children to ballerinas dancing. The lobby’s furnishings were a hodgepodge of chairs, couches, and tables that looked to be from three different decades and none of them recent. Disconcerted by his surroundings Andrew looked around for the front desk, and eventually spotted it set far back from the lobby entrance in a poorly lit corner of the room.
A young man stood behind the hotel desk where he was reading a large book. There was no line at the front desk as Andrew made his way over to it, but as he approached the desk, he began to hear heavy footsteps coming from behind him. Seconds later he felt a whoosh of air on his right side. He spun on the spot and looked around for the source of the sound and the sudden wind, seeing nothing but another ugly painting of sad children, Andrew turned back to the front desk where he saw the cause of the previous commotion. A man was now in front of him in line. He was wearing a dark suit with sleek black hair and carried a black briefcase. The man spoke loudly and had a strong Chicagoan accent. “Name’s Whitmoore, GABRIEL WHITMOORE, W.H.I.T. MOORE with an E at the end. I’m here to see Mr. Hubbard. He’s staying in your penthouse suite; he should be expecting me.”
It took Andrew a moment to process what had happened, but after he did his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth curved downwards. He took a few steps closer to the man who had yet to stop talking. “Hey!” called out Andrew, startling a young woman who had just emerged from a hallway a few feet away. “Did you just rush past me all so you could cut in front of me”? The man paused his verbal onslaught toward the front desk attendant and turned around to face Andrew. The two men were roughly the same age and height, but Gabriel appeared to have a heavier build than Andrew. Gabriel had a strong jaw, thick black eyebrows, and large brown eyes. He wore his black hair short on the sides, but long in the center which he combed back. His suit was a charcoal gray, off-set by a crisp white dress shirt, and dark gray tie.
Gabriel looked at Andrew and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Look pal,” he said, “I’ve got important business here today, and I don’t have time for lollygagging vacationers who want to stop and admire the décor.” With that Gabriel turned back to the front desk.
The young man at the desk looked apologetically at Andrew whose face had started to redden, his fists were clenched, and he looked to be contemplating a fight as he stared into the back of Gabriel’s head and muttered several curses. The attendant looked back at Gabriel. “Uh, Yes Mr. Whitmoore, Mr. Hubbard left instructions for us to call him when you arrived.” Gabriel smiled broadly at that and bounced on his toes in anticipation. The desk attendant picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number. “Hello, Mr. Hubbard? Oh, I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your stay sir, uh, Mr. Hubbard I’m calling to let you know that Mr. Whitmore has arrived in the lobby. Yes, Mr. Hubbard I’ll let him know. Thank you, sir.” The young man hung up the phone. “Mr. Whitmoore, Mr. Hubbard has asked me to send you up to meet him in his suite.” The young man extended his right arm and pointed across the room where the woman from before was disappearing down a hallway. “At the other end of the lobby go through the first hallway, and you’ll get to the elevators. Mr. Hubbard is in our penthouse suite, and that’s gonna be on the top floor or the P button on the elevator.”
Before he had even finished, Gabriel had begun to walk off in the direction the attendant had pointed. As he walked away, he called out “Thanks, kid!” and threw up his right hand.
Andrew stood with his gaze fixed on Gabriel as he walked off. His concentration was only broken when the young man at the desk spoke. “Uh sir? Did you want to check in?” Andrew unclenched his fists, exhaled deeply through his nose, and stepped forward to check into his room. “What a piece of crap, who thinks they can act like that?!” The attendant smiled weakly and responded, “Yeah, that guy sucks, but I’ve gotten used to it by now. Kind of have to in this line of work ya’know.” Andrew seemed to start to shake off what had just transpired and pulled out his wallet.
“Yeah, I bet you have to deal with all kinds of jerks, huh? But yeah, I should have a reservation under Mickelson, with a SON at the end, first name Andrew.” The attendant chuckled and smiled as he finished checking Andrew in.
While he waited Andrew let his eyes wander around the room. There was a sandwich board to the left of the desk that proclaimed “Welcome Dental Hygienists! Midwestern Dentistry Conference Check-in” along with an arrow that pointed down a hallway that the young woman he startled had come from. “You guys host a lot of conferences here”?
The attendant paused, “Well, yes and no. Most of the really big conferences are held up the street at the expo center, or at the more uh, popular hotels with conference centers nearby. We get the smaller ones or ones whose organizers are trying to save money. What brings you to the Congressional sir?”
“I have a work conference at the expo center tomorrow,” replied Andrew, “My coworkers all opted to stay at the Hilton that was closer, but I saw a documentary about historical hotels, and it had mentioned the Congressional Hotel, but so far it’s not what I expected.” A frown had returned to Andrew’s face, but this time it was different.
Noticing the change in Andrew’s demeanor the attendant attempted to lighten the mood. “Well, I know it doesn’t seem like much, but the history guys that stay here seem to enjoy themselves after the shock wears off. This old hotel does still have some cool historical features under all the dust.” Andrew smiled weakly, and the desk attendant handed him his key. “Your room is going to be in 1108, head across the lobby, go through the first entryway and you’ll find the elevators. I hope you’ll enjoy your conference Mr. Mickelson.” Andrew thanked him for his help and headed for the elevators.
Brooke Wilson, a 27-year-old dental hygienist, was considered short for a woman, but through regular exercise and weightlifting she had developed a well-toned physique. She had light brown eyes and wore her long brown curls in a pastel blue hair clip. Her olive skin had begun to develop a tan. She was wearing a lavender camisole and a pair of light wash skinny jeans. She carried a dark brown sweater in one hand and in the other was the gift bag she had received courtesy of the conference’s welcome table. Brooke’s employer had booked and paid for her and her co-workers to attend the Midwestern Dentistry Conference in Chicago, Illinois, promising them all a three-night stay in a luxurious historical hotel in Chicago. Instead, what Brooke and her co-workers received was a three-night stay at the Congressional Hotel and Conference Center.
Even with the air conditioning operating at full blast, the record high heat and humidity from outside, and the heat from hundreds of bodies gathered at the hotel’s conference center were more than the cooling system could handle. Which had made attending the conference’s keynote speech a miserable experience. Brooke had excused herself to return to her room to change her outfit. Upon entering the lobby Brooke was startled by a sudden outburst from a man in line at the reception desk and hurried in the direction of the elevator. Brooke had never been fond of confrontation, and desired to be away from the commotion and its source, and if luck would allow it, not be stuck in an elevator with them.
The doors to the elevator were just closing as she rounded the corner. She lunged for the door but missed them and heard the elevator shudder to life with a loud groan as it lifted its current occupants. “Come on!” she said exasperated, then hit the call button and stepped back to wait. Brook looked up at the illuminated lights above the elevator that showed the present location of the elevator. She watched as the lighted numbers went on and off as the elevator rose higher and higher until it reached floor number fourteen. The light for floor 14 remained on for what seemed like forever. Despite knowing the ineffectiveness of the action, Brooke started mashing the call button willing it descend back to her. “C’MOOOOOOOON!” she said through gritted teeth. As she stood waiting for the elevator to move from floor 14, she began to hear footsteps. She ceased her pleas for the elevator’s return, crossed her arms and stood silently in front of the elevator door.
Gabriel Whitmoore was a man of confidence. Some that knew him would say he had too much confidence, and everyone else that knew him would say he was just a cocky malicious man. Gabriel had recently been made a VP for his firm’s investment banking division. He had come to the Congressional Hotel to meet with a potential client who he was told was known for his eccentricities and love of history, which Gabriel assumed was why he chose The Congressional Hotel, and why after seeing The Congressional in person, continued to stay. If Gabriel was nervous about meeting his important client, it didn’t show. Gabriel was a man who was confident in his abilities and believed that by always leading with a confident swagger he would communicate to others that he has everything under control. Which is important when you’re trying to convince someone to trust you with their thirty-million-dollar investment.
After leaving the front desk Gabriel had caught a quick glance at Andrew and saw the look of anger on his face. Gabriel smirked, feeling pleased with himself and strode through the lobby toward the elevator. After coming around the corner Gabriel immediately noticed the woman from before standing in front of the elevator. He took a moment to look her up and down from behind, “Not bad” he thought as he crossed behind her. He cleared his throat to announce his presence before coming to stand next to Brooke in front of the elevator. He looked at the lit call button and then up at the lighted number fourteen. He stood there silently waiting, occasionally glancing over to look at Brooke who hadn’t moved since he arrived. “Long wait I guess,” said Gabriel.
“Mmm…Yeah,” Brooke replied, she wasn’t interested in making small talk with this guy. She had noticed the pause in his footsteps when he came in and how he had been glancing over at her. This day already wasn’t going well and the last thing she needed was some jerk coming on to her. She stretched the muscles of her back and shoulders but kept her arms crossed in front of her.
The pair spent a minute standing in silence until Gabriel said, “Hey look, it’s actually moving now,” as he pointed up at the lighted numbers above the elevator. It had gone from 14 to 12 and was at 11 when Brooke looked up. “Oh, thank god.” She thought to herself. Shortly after, the elevator arrived in the lobby with an ear-piercing creak. The doors rattled open with the sound of steel scrapping angrily against steel. “God, this place is a dump, should maybe even be condemned,” said Gabriel, his feelings of disgust and general dismay contorted his features into a grimace. Brooke couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment as this place was most certainly a dump. Gabriel extended his left arm toward the open elevator, “Ladies first,” he said with a handsome smile on his face. Brooke looked at him and his extended arm, then sighed and stepped onto the elevator followed by Gabriel. The elevator was large enough to accommodate a large group of people, although Brooke doubted that such a group would have been on this elevator anytime in the last decade.
They turned around after entering the elevator. Gabriel pushed the button with a capital P and turned to Brooke with a small smile, “What floor”? Brooke continued to cross her arms after entering the elevator, looked at Gabriel, then at the floor button panel and saw the illuminated P and looked at Gabriel who was still smiling.
She focused her gaze out of the elevator toward the opposite wall. “Twelve,” she said quietly.
“Twelve it is,” Gabriel said cheerily. He punched the number twelve button on the panel followed by the close door button, but nothing happened. He hit it again more firmly this time; still nothing. The doors remained in their fully open position. Noticing that the doors had yet to close, Brooke looked over to see Gabriel pushing the door close button with progressively more aggression each time. She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against the elevator wall with her head tilted back. Footsteps and the sound of a rolling suitcase could be heard coming down the hall.
“Hey, I think someone is coming,” Brooke said to Gabriel who looked ready to break the button if that’s what it would take to close the doors.
“Yeah, it’s probably that idiot from before. I don’t want to ride with him, I’d probably have to listen to him whine the entire time.” He continued his attempts to get the door close button to do its job. Finally, the angry steel scraping sound from earlier resumed, just as Andrew came around the corner.
Still angry from Gabriel’s behavior at the front desk, Andrew saw Gabriel look up at him, snarl and continue to rapidly press what he assumed must be the close door button, making Andrew even angrier. Prior to seeing Gabriel’s attempt to prevent him from entering the elevator Andrew had no desire to ride in the same elevator as him, but now that he saw Gabriel’s continued disrespect for him, Andrew charged ahead as the screeching elevator doors slowly closed. Just after Andrew boarded the elevator the doors behind him that had been closing slower than a glacier moves suddenly slammed shut violently, making Brooke jump. The elevator made another harsh sound of steel scrapping against steel and began to rise. Andrew let go of his suitcase and dropped his garment bag. He looked directly at Gabriel; he could feel his face growing warm. “You’re a real piece of work you know that? You saw me coming and you still kept hitting the door close button, didn’t you! Why? Are you too afraid to face me long enough to ride in the same elevator as me”?
Between the sudden slamming of the doors and Andrew’s outburst at Gabriel, Brooke was even more on edge than she had been in the lobby. She hugged her arms even tighter across her chest drew closer to the elevator’s rear left corner, turned her body away from the two men, and focused her gaze on the wall and floor. Despite his irritation Gabriel remained stone-faced throughout Andrew’s condemnation of him. After Andrew finished, Gabriel paused as he tried to think of how he wanted to handle this situation. A smirk quickly flitted across his face, before being replace with an unassuming and polite smile, “What floor?” he asked as sweetly as he could.
Andrew’s face turned a bright shade of scarlet at Gabriel’s all too casual dismissal of his anger. He looked at Gabriel’s charming smile and wanted nothing more than to punch Gabriel in the face and shatter his nose. Andrew looked away from Gabriel and toward the control panel. They were currently passing floor number nine, then he saw the illuminated capital P and knew that must be where Gabriel was heading. He spotted the button for his floor and punched that with his fist instead. His punch reverberated throughout the elevator with a loud metallic groan. A moment later they heard a thundering CRACK and immediately felt the elevator and themselves hurtling downward as the metal pulley that ran on the lift cable roared and screeched. Brooke screamed, dropped her bag and sweater, and covered her head with her arms and crouched in the corner. Andrew’s face drained of color, and his belongings were thrown against the back wall of the elevator from the sudden shift and drop, landing hard on his right shoulder. Gabriel’s smile disappeared and was replaced with a wide gape of terror, his eyes betraying his fear. He lost his grip on his briefcase, and it clattered to the floor.
They could feel themselves plunging down, floor after floor for what felt like an eternity, a loud CHHUNNK shook the elevator again. The elevator’s fail-safe had been engaged locking the elevator in place and ceasing its free-fall. Gabriel, who was still standing, staggered and was thrown face first against the back wall of the elevator next to Andrew. Brooke continued to scream until she realized they had stopped falling. Tears were streaming down her face, and she continued to quietly sob into her knees. Gabriel had a bloody gash over his left eyebrow and was clutching his left forearm. His chest was heaving as he slowly turned himself back to facing the elevator doors. He gulped in the air as if he had been drowning.
Andrew, who had crumpled to the floor when the fail-safe engaged unclenched his eyes, and slowly opened them as if moving even his eyelids too fast would cause the elevator to resume its free-fall. As he opened his eyes the elevator seemed to spin, and he shut them tightly again. As the vertigo faded, he slowly started to shift his body out of its contorted pose to kneel on the floor in between a sobbing Brooke and heaving Gabriel. No one spoke for several minutes. Slowly Brooke’s sobs turned into a soft whimper, Gabriel began to catch his breath, and Andrew’s sight started to come back into focus. Gabriel gingerly wiped the blood from his left eye and examined the blood on his hand in the light. He staggered slightly from a loss in balance and threw out his arms to pinion himself in the corner by the floor panel. He slowly released his arms and stood in place. He noticed his breathing starting to return to normal.
Andrew’s dizziness had subsided, and he chanced opening his eyes again, but this time the elevator was still. He began to take in what had happened, his shoulder felt hot to the touch and was starting to swell. He sat on the floor facing the doors of the elevator next to his overturned suitcase. He reclined back slightly to rest against the wall continuing to take in the scene. Brooke wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the two men. “You’re bleeding,” she said, looking at Gabriel.
Hearing Brooke’s words, Andrew looked at Brooke and then at Gabriel. Gabriel looked blankly at the two on the floor looking up at him still very much in shock. He looked back down at his hand from before, “Yeah, I am.” His words hung in the still air.
The silence was punctuated by Brooke once again. “Hey, you don’t have any bandages in your suitcase, do you?” she said, looking at Andrew. Andrew’s head spun wildly looking for the person she was addressing only to realize she was speaking to him. He paused and looked at his suitcase as if hoping it would answer him. When his suitcase failed to reply to the question, he started to speak, “Uhh I don’t think so, I didn’t expect to need any on my business trip.” Andrew glared at Gabriel, “Besides I don’t care if he’s hurt. It serves him right.”
Gabriel released a derisive snort in response, “It serves me, right?! You’re the one that caused the damned elevator to fall in the first place! IF ANYONE DESERVES TO BE BLEEDING, IT’S YOU!” he roared in anger, pointing at Andrew he took a step closer. Andrew stared at him in angry defiance, opening his mouth to respond in kind.
Brooke cried out, “STOP!………please,” her voice turning closer to a sob as tears began to reform in her eyes. She remained on the floor but moved away from Andrew as if afraid a fight would break out. “Please just stop, I don’t think I can take much more.” The two men looked at Brooke, seeing her apparent fear, and tear-stained eyes cooled their tempers.
Gabriel heaved a sigh, before saying, “FINE, but FOR THE RECORD all of this was HIS fault.” Gabriel turned away from Andrew as if the mere sight of him would cause him to return to his state of rage. Andrew opened his mouth to speak again and then shut it, apparently thinking it was better to be silent than to have the last word and risk restarting the fight. His face was bright red, as he sat staring at the floor.
Brooke breathed a deep sigh of relief and ambled to her feet. She picked up her dark brown sweater and crossed over to Gabriel who turned to meet her. She extended her arms with her sweater strung between them. “Bend down we have to try to bandage your wound,” Brook said plainly. Gabriel looked surprised to be being told or perhaps even ordered to do something, but he did as he was told and bent down on one knee. Andrew made an audible huff, but otherwise stayed quiet. Brooke rolled up the body of her sweater and put the most cushioned part over Gabriel’s wound. Thankfully it had already begun to clot. She wrapped the arms around the rest of Gabriel’s head and tied them together as tight as she could. Gabriel let out of cry of pain, but Brooke continued to tighten the makeshift bandage until she was satisfied. “Okay, that’s done. Are either of you hurt anywhere else?” she asked the two curtly.
“My arm’s a bit swollen but it should be okay,” said Gabriel showing her his swollen forearm.
“Same, but it’s my right shoulder,” replied Andrew quietly.
Brooke stood with her hands on her hip and addressed the two men. “Well, we should be thankful our injuries aren’t much worse. I’m Brooke by the way.”
The two men paused before speaking. “I’m Andrew.”
“Gabriel.”
“Okay, Andrew, Gabriel, do either of you know about how we call for help to get outta here? I already checked my phone and there’s no signal getting to my phone,” said Brooke.
“Why can’t we just pry open the doors, we might be close to one of the landings and climb out that way,” suggested Gabriel, who had already moved in front of the elevator doors and put his hands on either side, ready to open them.
“Hey, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” quipped Andrew who had been watching Gabriel.
“Oh,” said Gabriel coolly hands still on the doors, “And exactly why not? You scared of heights or something”? Brooke stood nervously to the side looking back and forth between them as if to gauge the chance of another fight.
Andrew got to his feet as he spoke, “No, I’m not scared, but I’m not an idiot either. Say we do open those doors, and let’s say we are close to a landing. Until we know that the power to the elevator is shut off, we will risk getting cut in half if the elevator shifts or moves, and even then, there’s a chance we could fall into the shaft itself.”
Gabriel clenched his jaw at being called an idiot, and turned to face Andrew, “Okay then, what do you propose if you’re so smart,” he said sarcastically.
“How about the emergency phone,” replied Andrew coolly.
Gabriel raised his good eyebrow and “Hmph, not a terrible idea.” He turned back toward the floor button panel and bent down to open the emergency phone door. An old black plastic phone with a phone dial. “How old is this freaking elevator!” said Gabriel, as he grabbed the phone and put it up to his good ear. A small plastic plaque next to the dial phone read “Dial 131 in case of emergency”. Gabriel shrugged and dialed in 131. “It’s ringing,” said Gabriel. They waited in silence as the phone continued to ring.
“Are we sure that number still works?” asked Brooke.
“Hang on,” said Gabriel as he bent down to verify, he had read the correct number.
The phone’s receiver made a buzzing static noise followed by, “Hello, you’ve reached Imperitus Telecom Services, my name is Gary. *Crunching sounds* What is the nature of your emergency today?” Gary the emergency phone operator spoke slowly and with a monotone voice that highlighted his apathy. “Hi, this is Gabriel Whitmoore, W.H.I.T.MOORE with an E at the end.” Andrew had to try to stifle his laugh as Gabriel glared at him. “I’m trapped in an elevator,” *CRUNCH* As Gabriel spoke, he was interrupted by loud crunching noise on the other end. “Uh, I’m trapped in an elevator with two other people. Something happened and,” *CRUNCH* “SOMETHING HAPPENED AND,” *CRUNCH* “OKAY! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE!” yelled Gabriel, as Brooke and Andrew exchanged confused looks.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t think the mic was on,” said Gary. “I’m just having some lunch, it’s a taco.” *CRUNCH* “But yeah, you said you’re in an elevator. Have you tried prying the doors open? Maybe you’re near a landing and can climb out.” Gabriel’s face was a mixture of stunned disbelief and horror.
He took a deep breath before speaking. “Gary, was it? Is there anyone else there I can speak to”?
“Umm…… no, Jennette called in sick again, sooooo it’s just me today.”
Gabriel was struggling to remain calm. “Gary, this is really really important. So, I need you to listen to me. You need to get the police and the fire department to the CON-GRESS-IONAL HO-TEL AND CON-VEN-TION CEN-TER IN CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. Tell them that there are three people trapped in an elevator. The elevator cable or something broke, and the elevator fell. Okay. We don’t know what floor we’re on, but we need to be rescued.”
“Hang on, if the elevator fell then how are you alive”? Gabriel’s face was even redder than Andrews, and a thick vein in his forehead was pulsating. He thrust the phone at Brooke who took it from him with a perplexed look.
“What’s going on?” asked Andrew. Brooke shrugged and put the phone up to her ear. Gabriel went to the opposite wall and buried his face in his arm and elbow.
“Uh hello, this is Brooke Wilson,” was all Brooke could say before she was interrupted by Gary.
“Oh, hey you must be one of the other people trapped in the elevator.” And with that Brooke went from a state of deep confusion to immediate recognition of why Gabriel had chosen to hand her the phone.
She covered the mouthpiece to phone before continuing, “Gabriel, what did he tell you? What’s wrong with this guy”?
“Oh, that’s Gary…. he’s having tacos for lunch today,” said Gabriel. He pounded his fist on the elevator wall. His head was still buried, in his arm and elbow. Even though his voice was muffled Brooke and Andrew could hear his indignation.
Brooke turned away and uncovered the phone’s mouthpiece and continued speaking, “Hi, Gary, right”?
“Yeah! How did you know?” asked Gary sounding genuinely surprised. Brooke looked almost as afraid as she did when the elevator was falling.
She took a deep breath and continued, “Oh, I guess I just have really good hearing. Uh, listen Gary, we really need you to call the police and the fire-de-part-ment, and send them to the Congressional Hotel and Convention Center in Chicago, Illinois. The Con-gress-ional Ho-tel and Con-ven-tion Cen-ter. We’re trapped in an elevator and NEED to be RES-CUED! Okay”?
“Okay,” Gary replied nonchalantly.
A spark of hope danced across Brooke’s face. “GREAT! Do you by any chance know how long till it’ll take them to get here?” asked Brooke excitedly.
“Uh, what’s your address…or no, not your address, the address for the Con-gress-ional Ho-tel and Con-ven-tion Cen-ter?” asked Gary.
Brooke looked like she’s been sucker punched. “Right, the ADDRESS FOR THE HOTEL, doesn’t that pop up on like your computer or something.” She spoke loudly so the others could hear her.
“Ugh let me look……no. It says no address on file,” replied Gary.
Brooke covered the phone’s mouthpiece again. “Do either of you know the address for the hotel?” she asked pleadingly.
Andrew raised his hand, “I should, I think I saved it in my contacts to give to my Lyft driver.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and started to hunt for the address. “Okay,” said Andrew holding up his phone ready to read off the address. “The address should be, 1834 S Union Ave, Zip Code 60661.” Brooke fed Gary the address and hung up the phone with a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, Andrew, I really appreciated you finding the address so quickly,” said Brooke smiling. “It was nothing, besides I want out of here too,” said Andrew, trying to sound casual.
Gabriel sighed and turned back toward Brooke and asked, “Did he say who long it would take them to get to us.”
“Unfortunately, no, but to be honest I doubt any time frame he could have given us would have been accurate,” said Brooke, sounding slightly dejected.
“It sounds like all we can do is sit here and wait for rescue,” said Andrew, sounding less than thrilled. The three settled into different parts of the elevator, Andrew claimed the rear left corner and hung his garment bag on his now righted suitcase. He had retrieved an undershirt in his suitcase and was using it to dab the sweat from his face. Brooke returned to the rear right corner and was reading a booklet from her welcome gift bag, intermittently wiping the sweat from her brow. Gabriel had shed his suit’s jacket, revealing the pools of sweat that had begun to soak his shirt. Gabriel was reviewing documents from his briefcase with his back to the doors periodically looking at his watch. Thirty minutes later, Gabriel suddenly packed up his documents, closed his briefcase, and stood up. Brooke looked up from the pamphlet on gum disease she was reading and watched as Gabriel crossed over to the corner where Andrew was sitting. Gabriel nudged the sole of Andrew’s shoe with his foot.
“What?” asked Andrew through gritted teeth.
“I need you to move,” replied Gabriel calmly.
Andrew looked up at Gabriel quizzically. “Why?” Andrew retorted. Gabriel looked frustrated and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “Okay, please move.” Andrew stood up to lock eyes with Gabriel. “Why should I, bud”? Gabriel half smiled, as if almost pleased that he was being refused.
Brooke had been trying to ignore whatever fight the two men were having and focus on her pamphlet, but then she swore she heard water falling, followed by a loud yelp from Andrew as he knocked his suitcase toward her. Alarmed by this sudden development Brooke scrambled out of the way as Andrew stumbled away from the corner.
“You, what the? WHAT ARE DOING!” yelled Andrew. After Brooke was as away from the commotion as she could be, she looked over at Gabriel and Andrew. Gabriel appeared to be standing still, and Andrew was desperately trying to rip off his shoes. It looked like water had spilled in the corner. Then it dawned on her what had happened, and her eyes grew wide.
Gabriel finished urinating, and zipped up his fly as Andrew was extricating himself from his left shoe. Andrew stomped away from his now soaked leather shoes, standing in his socks. “THAT’S IT! I’VE COMPLETELY HAD IT WITH YOU!” yelled Andrew.
Gabriel turned to face Andrew and said calmly “I told you to please move.” Gabriel’s face was redder than ever before. “Those were five-hundred-dollar shoes YOU JUST PISSED ON!” Andrew snarled.
“Don’t worry I’ll write you a check for your tacky shoes,” said Gabriel smirking. Andrew charged at Gabriel bashing him into the wall. Gabriel’s smile vanished and was replaced with a look of surprise and anger. He delivered an uppercut to Gabriel’s chest and sent him flying against the floor button panel. As Andrew got back on his feet the door to the emergency phone panel opened and the phone fell from the hook.
Seeing Andrew and Gabriel squaring off again, Brooke jumped to her feet, and got between them, begging for them to stop. “HE STARTED IT!” Gabriel bellowed.
“I started it? YOU PISSED ON MY SHOES!” Andrew roared.
“You have no idea how lucky you are we’re not outside right now!” Gabriel said threateningly.
Andrew began his retort but was interrupted by Brooke screaming as loud as she could “STOP FIGHTING! PLEASE, STOP FIGHTING!” Both Andrew and Gabriel stood chest heaving and ready to kill each other, but Brooke refused to move out from between them. There were tears in her eyes again.
“We’ll settle this later,” barked Andrew.
“Fine by me,” asserted Gabriel.
In the midst of the chaos none of them had noticed that someone had been attempting to speak to them on the emergency phone. “Hey, hey do you hear that?” asked Brooke. She looked down at the phone dangling by its cord. She reached down, picked up the phone and held it to her ear. “Hello, this is Brooke Wilson, one of the people trapped in the elevator. Are you here to rescue us?” Brooke asked hopefully.
“Hi, Brooke it’s Gary again!”
Brooke’s face fell and replied. “Oh, hi Gary it’s you.” Andrew and Gabriel both groaned in the background as they relocated themselves away from each other and the new pee corner.
“Brooke, I have good news!” said Gary sounded the most animated he had yet. “The fire department is currently at the Con-gress-ional Ho-tel and Con-ven-tion Cen-ter! The only problem is, they’ve apparently spent the last hour looking for the con-trol box for the power shut off for the elevator, but they still haven’t found it. They think you guys are near fourth floor landing though.”
“Guys the fire department’s here!” she said excitedly to Andrew and Gabriel before returning to the call. “Hey, Gary, do you know why it’s taking so long to find or how long they think it’ll be?” she asked sounding hopeful.
“Oh, uh, okay, I wrote it down somewhere,” said Gary, followed by an odd mixture of sounds. Brooke guessed were fast food and snack cake wrappers, commingling with many sheets of paper. Brooke stood still as she patiently listened and waited. “I found it!” exclaimed Gary, “It had a filet of fish wrapper stuck to it”!
“That’s great Gary, can you please tell me what it says,” said Brooke trying to keep her voice from sounding harsh.
“Right, okay so it says that I’m supposed to tell you that…they’re trying to find the power control box that supplies the power to the elevator, but the elevator that you’re in, is a room-less elevator…. What does that mean?” Gary pondered.
Brooke, who was reaching her limit, pleaded one more time, “Gary please.” “Oh, right, sorry, I guess it means that the power control box could be on any floor, so they have to check all of them, which is taking a while,” said Gary sounding pleased with himself for successfully delivering the message. “So, I take it they can’t tell us how long it will be then,” said Brooke sounding slightly deflated. “No, I’m afraid not” said Gary soundly largely clueless. Brooke sighed and replied “Okay, well thanks Gary,” and hung up the phone.
Brooke sniffed the air. “Oh, God!” Brooke’s face crinkled in utter disgust. “Dang it! Gabriel, it’s already boiling hot in here, and now it smells like pee! You couldn’t find a container or something to go in?” “Sorry Brooke, but when you gotta go, you gotta go,” said Gabriel with a slight snicker as he looked at Andrew’s now abandoned urine-soaked shoes. Andrew looked at Gabriel darkly but said nothing.
Andrew grabbed his garment bag and suitcase and relocated to the corner near the floor button panel. He arranged his suitcase in front of him, so he didn’t have to look at Gabriel, and dug into a thick biography about Frank Lloyd Wright, he had grabbed from his suitcase.
Andrew offered Brooke a spare book he had packed about the Great Chicago Fire which she accepted. Brooke returned to her original corner, to read the book Andrew lent her. After a few minutes she requested Andrew’s blessing to push his shoes back toward the puddle. After receiving Andrew’s blessing, Brooke rolled up a flyer from her bag and used it to push Andrew’s shoes back closer to Gabriel’s puddle. But before long there was little to be done about the smell or the heat. Andrew had stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt, removed his socks, and rolled up the legs of his pants. Brooke had tied up the back of her shirt, revealing her belly. Small rivulets of sweat had begun to develop on her face and neck. She had propped the book about the Great Chicago Fire on her knees, so she could pinch her nose shut with one hand and turn the pages with the other.
Gabriel seemed to be the only holdout, despite the fact that his shirt was entirely soaked through. He insisted that he was fine with it on. His hair was drenched with sweat and stuck to his face, but despite the intense heat, Gabriel looked almost pale. He had opted to sit silently with his back to the door, his eyes closed, only opening them to periodically check his wristwatch. Another hour passed with no sign of rescue or even a call from Gary. Andrew had taken to checking dial tone on the emergency phone only to return it to its place each time. Brooke was grateful the heat at least seemed to take some of the fight out of the two men. Gabriel had grown paler and seemed to be struggling to keep his head upright. He had gone from checking his watch every eight minutes to every three minutes.
After his most recent time check, Gabriel tilted his head back against the door and looked at the elevator’s ceiling. “Brooke,” he said groggily. “Can you go try calling Gary again”?
Brooke looked up from her book. Her eyes widened in surprise to see how pale Gabriel had gotten. “Gabriel are you okay?” asked Brooke.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I’d like you to try getting an update from Gary again.” Brooke looked from Gabriel to Andrew, as if pleading with Andrew to fulfill Gabriel request without a fight. Noticing Brooke looking at him, Andrew sighed and picked up the emergency phone and dialed in the number listed on the plastic plaque.
The phone rang and rang, until finally someone answered. “Hello, you’ve reached Imperitus Telecom Services, my name is Gary.” This proclamation was followed by slurping sounds that Andrew could only guess was Gary reaching the bottom of his big gulp.
“Hi, Gary, this is Andrew Mickelson. I’m one of the three people who are STILL trapped in the elevator at the Congressional Hotel and Convention Center.”
“Oh wow, I’ve gotten to talk to all three of you now. Kinda makes it all seem more real. Hey Brooke sounds hot on the phone is she hot in real life?” rambled Gary before being interrupted by an annoyed Andrew. “Gary, GARY! Listen to me, when are they getting us out of here?”
“Wow they still haven’t gotten to you guys yet?” *CRUNCH* followed by chewing and swallowing sounds, “You must be so bored,” said Gary talking through a half full mouth. “Gary, stop eating. This is serious,” Andrew said exasperatedly.
“Sorry, man but this toasted sandwich from Quiznos is SO GOOD. Have you had their Black Angus.” Gary continues to ramble not realizing his audience had stopped listening.
Andrew looked up to see Brooke looking concerned. Andrew looked back at the phone receiver tightening his grip on the phone and let his rage out. “GARY! I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR SANDWICH! WE’VE BEEN TRAPPED IN THIS ELEVATOR FOR HOURS. WE NEED TO KNOW WHEN THEY’RE GOING TO RESCUE US”!
“Woah, okay man chill, I’ll try calling them. I’ll call you back when I hear…” Andrew slammed the phone back down without bothering to listen to the rest of what Gary had to say.
“Brooke, I don’t know how you managed to talk to that slobbering imbecile before,” Andrew said shaking his head and sending sweat flying. He looked back over at Brooke, but she wasn’t there. He scrambled to his feet to find Brooke hovering over Gabriel ripping off his shirt. “BROOKE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Andrew cried out.
“GABRIEL PASSED OUT!” Brooke said shrilly. She pulled Gabriel’s sleeves out of his sweat-soaked shirt revealing a round white disk affixed his Gabriel’s upper left arm. “I knew he was lying when he said he was okay! Andrew, that white disk on Gabriel’s arm is for checking blood sugar levels. Gabriel’s got type one diabetes. We have to get him help now or he could die!” said Brooke frantically. “Andrew, do you have any food or anything to drink in your suitcase”? Andrew stood staring dumbly at Brooke and Gabriel saying nothing. “ANDREW!” Brooke called out loudly and snapping Andrew back to his senses.
Andrew looked down and his suitcase, “I don’t think I do, but I’ll check again.” Andrew began to rip open his suitcase and started tossing its contents aside.
Brooke had taken to lightly slapping Gabriel’s face. “Please wake up Gabriel!” she pleaded. Then the emergency phone began the ring. Brooke and Andrew exchanged looks and Andrew drove for the phone.
“GARY! We need help!” started Andrew.
“Yeah, I know that you’re trapped in an elevator,” said Gary.
“NO! WELL, YES, but no, listen to me! Gabriel is diabetic, and he’s passed out. The rescue team needs to get here NOW!” Andrew sputtered.
“Woah, twist ending! Don’t worry man, I was just calling you back to tell you they found the power shut off box. I guess the panel for the power box was hidden behind some ugly painting of a dog juggling or something. They should be coming to open the doors now.” A loud banging resounded from the elevator doors.
Andrew threw down the phone and went to the door and began banging and yelling. “WE”RE IN HERE! WE NEED A MEDIC!”
“Andrew! Can you help me move Gabriel?” Brooke interrupted. Andrew nodded silently and put his arms under Gabriel’s armpits readying to lift him as Brooke grabbed his legs. Sweat poured down both Brooke and Andrew’s faces as they lifted him from in front of the doors. There was a loud metallic groan behind the door followed by a sharp cracking sound. After they had resettled Gabriel against the wall Andrew went to the elevator doors and put his arms on either door as Gabriel had before and attempted to pry them open. The doors opened with a grinding screech one inch, two inches, three inches. Suddenly two pairs of heavily gloved hands appeared at the bottom of the doors reaching to help open the second set of doors.
“We’ve reached them!” called out an unseen figure. They could hear the gargled chatter of walkies and radios. Soon they could see the faces of two of the fire fighters. The elevator’s fail safe kicked in when they were just coming to the fourth-floor landing providing only a small opening for them to climb out of.
“PLEASE! We need a medic right away, one of us has passed out and needs medical attention! We think he’s diabetic!” Brooke yelled.
“Okay let’s get them out first,” replied one of the firefighters, his commanding voice boomed. “Okay, you two, we need you to help us get the guy who needs medical attention out. We’ve got a stretcher ready to go. This isn’t ideal, but we’ve gotta get him to a hospital ASAP. I’m going to need you to help very slowly guide his body out of the elevator and we’ll take him from there.” Once again Andrew and Brooke were lifting Gabriel. “Yup, feet first, that’s it, nice and slow, just like that, you guys are doing great!”
After what felt like an eternity, Gabriel was safely out of the elevator and was being loaded onto a stretcher. Brooke and Andrew laid on their stomachs with their faces in the door opening gulping down the fresh air. Within the next hour the firefighters had secured Brooke and Andrew with safety harnesses and helped them climb out of the elevator. They were brought to waiting ambulance teams in front of the hotel to be checked out medically. After being cleared, Andrew, still without his sock and shoes, walked over to Brooke as she was being cleared by the EMTs. Andrew sat down next to her with his hands in his pockets. They sat in silence for several minutes.
Finally, Andrew spoke “You know what we’ve got to do after all of this is over?” he asked.
“Quit the job that brought me to this hotel?” Brooke said half-jokingly. Andrew laughed, “No, well maybe, but that’s not what I meant,” Andrew said smiling.
Brooke turned to Andrew “Get drunk?” she asked curiously.
“No, well maybe, but again that’s not what I meant. What I meant is after this is over, we need to go find Gary,” said Andrew as he started to laugh.
“YESSSS!” Brooke cried as she burst into laughter. Soon Brooke and Andrew were both laughing so hard tears began to form in their eyes as they fantasized about what they would do when they found Gary. As their laughter subsided Brooke sat quietly looking thoughtfully into the distance before speaking. “Should we invite Gabriel? Assuming that he’s okay that is.”
Andrew stiffened slightly and hung his head down. Brooke began to think she’d said the wrong thing, when Andrew lifted his head and said, “Yeah, why not.”
“Really?” Brooke said, surprised by the answer.
Andrew looked at Brooke. “Yeah. Really.”
Brooke opened and closed her mouth before opening it again. “Andrew, before you were ready to kill Gabriel, and yet when I told you he had passed out and could die you still helped save him. I’ve been wondering, why did you help save him”?
Andrew sucked in a deep breath and stretched his muscles, then exhaled deeply. “So, remember after the elevator fell, and Gabriel was bleeding, and I said that I didn’t care that he was hurt, and that he deserved it?” Andrew shifted on his seat before continuing as Brooke sat listening intently. “Well, I sat in that elevator corner thinking about that. What I said, and how I felt when I said it, and I decided I didn’t like feeling like that. I realized that just because I hate someone doesn’t mean I actually want them to get hurt or die.” Andrew looked down at his bare feet on the pavement and closed his eyes.
“I get it,” said Brooke softly as she watched the bright orange sun descend over the horizon.
The Honors Lounge 