Trapped

Short fiction story about two people being trapped in an elevator, the things they talk about and what happens after they are rescued.

He ran down the hallway, already out of breath.  He had seen the rain through the office windowpane beating down on the tiny figures and vehicles below.  Anxious to leave the high-rise, the man in the three-piece, pin-striped business suit screamed at the closing elevator doors.

“Hold the elevator!  Hold the doors, please!”  He stuffed his briefcase into the narrowing gap, hurling his trim body inside the enclosure.

“I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t hit the button fast enough to keep the doors from shutting.”  A beautiful young blonde twisted the pearls at her neck, cheeks tinting a dark red.

Waving a hand in dismissal, the man clutched his briefcase handle in one hand and ran the fingers of his other hand through thick salt-and-pepper hair.

“No problem,” he said as he scanned the numbers on the button pad.  She had already pressed ‘G’ for the ground floor.  Only twelve more floors to go.

Twelve.  Beep.

Eleven.  Beep.

Ten.  Beep.

The man cleared his throat and tugged on his tie.  The girl shifted the strap on her shoulder bag and sniffed.

Nine.  Beep.

Eight.  Beep.

The lights flickered and the blonde gasped.  The sound of grinding gears was deafening; the sudden lurching halfway between the seventh and eighth floors was jaw-jarring.

The lights flickered again and then went out completely.  The couple inside the elevator was plunged into darkness.  They stood for a moment in silence until the businessman began blindly pushing every button on the number keypad over and over, to no avail.

“Push the alarm button,” the young blonde said.

“What?”

“The red alarm button near the bottom of the panel.”

“I can’t tell what’s red.  Everything’s black.”

Taking two steps forward, she hung on to the man’s arm, felt her way around the key pad and found the alarm.

An ear-splitting ring sounded.  She pressed again.

Another long silence ensued.

Digging into her shoulder bag, she found her cell phone and hit the Power button, the tiny screen illuminated her face, causing her features to look elongated and ominous.

“Izzy?  Isabelle?  This is Olena.  Can you hear me?”  There was only static in response.  The light dimmed and vanquished.  She sighed.

“No reception?” the man asked.

“Really bad.  Maybe I can try again later.”  She heard a scraping sound and assumed the man had put his briefcase down.

Before Olena got each word from her mouth, the tirade began.

“I’ve got to get out!  I’ve got to get out of the box!  I’ve got to get out of this building!”  The man slammed his hands on the doors and walls.  He kicked a foot, connecting with Olena’s left knee.  She screamed, more from surprise than from pain.

“We’re doomed!  This elevator could come crashing down at any moment!”  He began stomping his feet and pacing around the small space.  “This has got to be the worst moment of my life.  We can’t call our families.  How are we going to go to the bathroom?”

Olena couldn’t help but laugh.

An awkward stillness hung in the already stuffy air.

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m letting my anxiety get the better of me.  Aren’t you experiencing any fear?  You do realize we are going nowhere, don’t you?”

Tamping down the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Olena whispered, almost inaudibly, “Yes, I realize that and yes, I’m nervous but I’m trying to reserve my panic until we’ve been here a much longer time.  Hopefully that won’t be necessary.”

Feelings of tension seemed to slowly dissipate.

“What was your name again?”

“Olena.  Olena Orsola.”

“That’s beautiful.  I like it.”

“It’s Ukranian.  What’s your name?”

“Gilby Nelson.”

“Gilby?  Where’s that from?”

“My weird parents.”

The pair laughed easily; comfortably.

Removing her shoes and placing her bag on the floor, Olena pushed her back against the wall and slid downward.

“So what brings you to America, Olena Orsola?”  Gilby wished he could see the pretty girl he was talking to.

“Education.  I am attending college classes and interning at Norson and Gilstad, you know, the advertising agency?”

“Yes, I do know it.  I went out with the receptionist there a few times.”

“Wanda?  She’s a lovely person.  Others there, not so much.”  Olena extracted a piece of chewing gum from her bag and plopped it into her mouth.

“Some people are not as they seem.”

“What do you mean?  Would you like some gum, Gilby?”

The man crouched and allowed his legs to stretch out before him.  He waved a hand in refusal of the offer and then realized Olena couldn’t see him.  “No, thank you,” he finally said.

“Are you saying Wanda isn’t a nice person?”

“Oh no, she has many good qualities.  I just caught her in a few lies about money and past relationships.  I don’t like people who lie to me.”

“I hate that happened to you but I understand.  I don’t like liars either.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Gilby urged.

A long, awkward silence filled the box again.

Olena reached for something to say.  “So, how ‘bout this weather, huh?”

Gilby laughed.  “Talking about the weather?  We need to come up with more interesting topics to pass the time, don’t you think?”

Olena smiled in the darkness.  “Tell me about yourself, Gilby.”

“Well, that’s not very interesting but I’m fifty-three-years-old, divorced, have a twenty-four-year-old married daughter and a three-year-old grandson.  I’m co-partner with the law firm Harrell, Nelson and Eddington.  Boring life to say the least.”

“Not boring at all,” Olena countered.  “You’re a lawyer; a partner no less.  And have a grandson.  I bet he’s a light in your life.”

“Yes, he is.  Radley’s quite the little scamp.”

“Will your daughter worry about you?  I wish you could call her.”

“We don’t talk every day and probably won’t be talking much or at all after tonight.”

Olena fell silent again.  Should she ask why?  Should she pry?

“So, tell me about yourself, Olena Orsola.”

“As I said, I intern for the advertising agency, am going to college and am from the Ukraine.  Let’s see, I am nineteen-years-old and have two younger brothers, Ewhen and Petro.  I miss them and my parents too, of course.”

“I imagine you do, being so far from home.”

“I live in the dorms at college and my dorm mate Izzy is superb.  She has shown me around the city and made me feel very welcome.”

“So you’re studying advertising?”

“Business actually.  I want to make it to the top one day.  But I don’t want to step on the little people in the process, if you know what I mean.  I think some courses in Humanities will be in order.”

Olena heard Gilby shifting his weight, his shoes scuffling.

“That is very admirable.  I love how you think.  Some people in the business world, as a matter of fact, most people in the business world don’t think about the little people, big people or just people in general.  I believe those who think they have such power and authority over others should be stopped at all costs.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Olena said, a bit of defiance in her tone.  “We need leaders because some of us aren’t leaders but if those in power abuse those rights they should be dealt with in some manner.”

“Exactly!”

Gilby yelled so loudly that Olena jumped.  What had she said that riled him so?

Standing to his full height, Gilby banged on the doors and walls again.  “I’ve got to get out of here.  God, please!”  His breathing came faster and faster.  He was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Confusion filled Olena’s brain.  The man had been so calm.  Sometimes fear did funny things to the body though.

Groping in the darkness, the young girl pulled herself up, warily hugging the virtual stranger.

She cooed and clucked.  “Sshh, Gilby.  Sshh.  We’re going to be okay.  Someone will come for us soon.  Someone will come.”

Gilby Nelson collapsed to the floor, gathered his briefcase into his arms and curled into a fetal position.

***

Olena awakened to the sound of muffled voices; several of them.  Opening her bloodshot eyes, she blinked.  The lights in the elevator were on.

“Hey, hey, Gilby.”  She shook her box-mate’s sleeping body.  She tried to pry the briefcase from his fingers as he shot up, rigid, eyes darting from one wall to another.

“We’re saved, Gilby.  Someone’s here to rescue us.”  Her bright smile filled his face.

“Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, God.”  His parched throat ached.

“Hello?  Can you hear us?”  Olena yelled and banged on the doors.

“Hang on!” a deep, masculine voice advised.  “We should have you out in just a few moments.

Digging through her bag, Olena extracted her cell phone and pressed the Power button.  “We’ve been trapped in here about six hours.  It’s almost midnight.”

Gilby took a step forward and gathered Olena into his arms, looking deep into her eyes.  “Thank you for trying to help me in my diminishing mental state.  I should have been the strong one.”

He kissed Olena on the lips, long, hard, tender.

Taking a step back, Olena touched her moist lips with a shaking index finger.  Emotions she had never felt bubbled over inside her mind.

The elevator jerked, moving downward for a brief moment and the doors opened.

A technician in a navy blue jumpsuit and four police officers stood on the diamond-patterned carpet.

Grabbing her shoes and shoulder bag, Olena emerged from the open space.  “Thank you …”

The policemen rushed into the elevator, wrenched Gilby’s arms behind his back and placed him in handcuffs.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

“What’s happening?” Olena screamed.

The repairman shrugged.  “Cops told me there was a murder suspect in the stuck elevator.  Got a 9-1-1 call from his partner Something-Harrell.  He’d just been shot.  He died on the phone with the operator.”

Olena gasped.

Gilby was struggling as the enforcement officers led him from the elevator.

“Yeah, I did it,” he spat.  “Some partner he was, stealing money, stealing clients, slept with my girlfriend!  I’ll save you some time; the gun is in my briefcase.  My fingerprints are all over it.”

Olena raised a shaky hand to her mouth.

Turning his head, Gilby noticed the beautiful blonde.  “Guess I’d better get used to going nowhere."

Author's Note

Please give an overall review on this short story. Thank you!

Reviews

[LastMonth]

So, what do I think. Hmh.
There's definetly alot of potential in this. I expected a twist. I expected it from the start, yet it still caught me by surprise. I toggled between trying to realize who is going to surprise me, the gorgeous blonde or the weary man.

It is well written and it is very interesting.
I do feel like the last several lines can be edited to make more of an impact.
But really ,this is a great story. A lovely twist and what not.

Thank you for the story.

[MelissaAndres]

Thank you, LastMonth. I really appreciate you reading and commenting. I am glad you enjoyed my short story!

[TL Boehm]

I wonder if you ever gave this a rewrite. I really enjoyed the dialogue and especially the exchange regarding the names. Found that humorous

[Philip Muls]

Well done Melissa. Your story has good flow, easy dialogues and a nice twist at the end.

I like the fact that it is the girl who keeps her cool in the elevator.

[MelissaAndres]

Thank you so much, Philip. I appreciate your kind comments. :)

[wordman]

great story melissa ! it could happen,kept me in suspence

[MelissaAndres]

Thanks, wordman! I am glad you enjoyed it!