Elevator

His eyes scanned the monitor for what seemed the hundredth time.
Scrolling through the pages, studying figures: financial deficits,
remuneration packages, nothing added up.
Glancing at his watch he sighed, "Ten Thirty, apart from security I
must be the only person in the building."
Sitting behind one of twenty desks Simon Lamptey worked meticulously.
Stubby fingers flicked across his computer keyboard. The large
rectangular room was covered in a blanket of darkness apart from a
small desk lamp, allowing just enough light for him to work.
Four months of planning and preparation for his employers biggest
client rested on him balancing the tender. As department head the
responsibility was on his shoulders but the figures just did not add
up.
In his forties Lamptey was a large man of about six foot. His immense
frame enveloped the small swivel chair he sat on. Wearing a crumpled
navy pinstripe suite his stomach pressed against the desk. The result
of to much coffee, junk food and not enough exercise, lately he had not
the time or motivation for anything else but the tender. His shirt top
buttons were undone allowing air to a thick neck with a red silk tie
loosely wrapped around it. He had a large head, a chubby clean shaven
face, full lips, puffy brown eyes and a chocolate complexion. Bald with
tuffs of afro hair above his ears he scratched his forehead.
For the second time in the evening his concentration was interrupted
as the door swung open. A yellow triangle of light from the corridor
illuminated the office. The first interruption had been when he had
received a call from Carol. His beloved wife Carol. Her intolerance of
his late night working had been the source of much friction as of late,
did she think the mortgage paid itself. He had been abrupt with her and
now regretted it but before finishing tonight he needed to get to a
good point with his work load.
"Working late again Mr Lamptey." Lamptey turned to the security guard,
looked at his watch, Ten Thirty-five. "I will be out of here in about
ten minutes thank you Alex" He politely replied in a Ghanaian accented
deep voice. The door closed once more leaving the room in darkness.
After what seemed a few more calculations he again looked at his watch
and with astonishment he gasped "Eleven Thirty." Flicking off the
monitor Lamptey grabbed a batch of files, unhooked his coat and exited
the office. Hurrying along the corridor, now in complete darkness he
moved quickly for such a big man. He entered the elevator, hit the
button for ground floor and the elevator began to descend.
Lamptey was pondering how he could make it up to Carol when suddenly
he lost his balance. Instinctively he threw his hands against the wall
to steady himself, trench coat and files cascaded to the floor. The
elevator had abruptly stopped. The lights slowly dimmed leaving Lamptey
engulfed in darkness. He went to the control panel, first hitting the
ground floor button and then frantically depressing all the buttons but
the elevator was a lifeless shell, a steel cage with Lamptey as its
guest. He found the emergency alarm button but as with the control
panel, nothing. Reaching for his mobile phone he checked the battery
power "full, great" checked the signal strength, nothing "blast it."
Pacing the square parameter his initial frustration and anger now
turned to anxiety. Repeatingly glancing at his watch he talked to
himself. "Why is the time going so slow, they must know I'm stuck in
here, they have probably called the fire brigade, be patient simon, be
patient, someone will get you out of here."
Lamptey sat down in a corner and surveyed his surroundings as his eyes
became accustomed to the darkness. Advertisements for perfumes,
restaurants and shops masked the steel walls.
He thought how quiet it was, very quiet, eeire, even spooky. So still
and the air itself seemed motionless. Anxiety was now replaced with
fear. Fear of the dark? Of being alone? Of being trapped? He was not
sure but he was afraid. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours.
Every so often Lamptey would stand and pace around the elevator.
Looking for an opening, any means to escape, listening for just a
whisper, a sign of rescue, but always nothing.
Lamptey resigned himself to the fact that no one was coming to rescue
him, not tonight. "They have turned the power off that's what they've
done. Forgotten I'm here, well they will find out in the
morning."
Laying down with his head resting on his trench coat his mind wandered
from his predicament to Carol. "I'm sorry Carol, after tonight things
will be different, I promise." He drifted off to sleep.
Awaking, at first he was not sure where he was. He checked his watch,
Four Thirty, gazed round the empty elevator but nothing had changed.
His bladder was full, to much coffee from the night before. Unable to
contain himself he urinated in the opposite corner and feeling ashamed
he crouched back in his corner wrapping himself in his trench coat. The
temperature of his steel prison had dropped and shivering he slipped
back into unconsciousness.
Slowly opening his eyes Lamptey struggled to his feet. His throat was
dry, his stomach empty and he felt as rough as he imagined he looked.
The watch said Ten Thirty. "TEN THIRTY" he gasped. "Then why am I still
here, why have the hundreds of employees who use this building not
noticed the elevator not working." He rechecked his watch. Date: Friday
the Thirteenth of April. Time: half past Ten.
Then it hit him. Lamptey reeled back in shock thudding the back of his
immense physique against the wall. He repeatedly murmured again and
again "Friday the Thirteenth, Friday the Thirteenth" as he collapsed in
a heap on the floor. Friday the Thirteenth, Good Friday, Easter Bank
Holiday weekend. There would be no one in the building until Tuesday
morning, no one for four days.
Slowly he pulled his knees into his chest and closed his eyes. Still in
shock, still in darkness, still in the elevator.