I sat at the edge of the bed and took it all in, miming the emotions of self-control and tranquility. With each shriek of scurrilous accusations regarding our lack of financial endowment, I clenched the sheets tighter showing the vascularity of my once graceful hands.

 

“Rent is due in four days Joe, are you gonna pay it? What about Julie’s ballet recital ‘morrow afternoon, d’ya have money for tickets? I can’t believe how irresponsible ya are! Ya promised me we’d be happy; ya promised me we’d be a family. Look at ya now, just a janitor. I can’t believe ‘dis. You are a joke Joe, an absolute joke!”

 

In apoplectic rage, Catherine stomped her way out of the bedroom. I made an effort to pick my head off of my chest; never did it seem so heavy. I just sat there, staring at the lump in my pocket, remaining hesitant to reveal its preciousness.

 

It was difficult to sleep that night. In a bed built for two, I reflected on the loneliness of the pillow beside me. I thought of giving up; I wanted to give up. The cure for shaken hands would be to surrender eternally. If only. Sleep eventually overcame me as the teardrops on my pillow recreated the cool gentle kisses Catherine once gave.

 

---------

 

The morning came but a few hours later not even giving my pillow a chance to dry. Earning a paycheck was my only hope of potential happiness. Realizing this, I placed my legs inside my blue jumpsuit, brought my arms around behind me and placed them in their proper sleeves. The clock read 6:53a.m. I was late. I locked the door to the apartment, then the deadbolt, and began my hike to the Atlantic Bank of New York. Immediately, I realized I forgot something. I dashed for my apartment door. Fumbling with the keys I released both locks, ran inside. My day cannot start without the lump remaining in my pocket.

 

The walk to work took longer than usual with my thoughts insisting on imagining Catherine. She never did return home last night. My eyes began to water, and I did everything I could to convince myself it was because of the wind that blew. With each step I took down the sidewalk, the more my leg would cramp up from the lump in my pocket constantly applying pressure upon my thigh. It never bothered me though, only made me smile.

 

---------

 

“I can’t believe Joe. He be too selfish. He work all those damn hours and what does he have to show? I am done with him Amy! I can’t be with no guy who be working and can’t s’port a family. We been together for three damn years and he keep saying things will get better. A damn liar is what he is! He probably be out with some broad instead of workin’. Cheatin’ fool is what he is!”

 

Staying with her sister Amy, Catherine could say nothing good about Joe. They sat at the kitchen table as Julie practiced her ballet moves for that night.

 

“Is Daddy going to be there tonight?”

 

“He better be baby... he sure better be.”

 

----------

 

I approached my building of employment and looked up at the sign which read: “World Trade Center: North Tower.” I took a deep breathe in, attempted to exhale feelings of sadness. It didn’t work. I made way to the elevators, pressed Floor 106 and made a home in the back corner hoping nobody would want to talk. I shut my eyes for a brief second and before I knew it the doors slid open and thus began my day of janitorial duties.

 

“Hey Joe, how goes it this morning?” said Doug, a coworker.

 

“I’ve seen better days, just ready to get out of this shithole.”

 

“Yeah, I hear ya! Hey, did you ask her yet?

 

“Nah, I don’t know if I want to now. She was acting all mad last night, swearing and screaming at me. She even stooped so low to tell me that she regrets ever being with me.”

 

“Hey bro, things will get better. She’s only what, four months pregnant now?”

 

“Five months.”

 

I picked up a bucket and filled it to the brim with water and detergent. One part detergent to every five parts water. I could do it with my eyes closed. Not something I brag about too often. I made way to the foyer of the offices, rang out the mop, and began to scrub… and scrub… and scrub. For me time was just a figment of imagination, it never existed.

 

“Hey! Joe! What the hell you doin’ man? It’s been one hour, and you still be mopping the damn same area since I last saw you. You cool?

 

“I’m cool. Just got some s**t on my mind right now, ya know? Thinkin’ ‘bout how I’m gonna pay for an admission ticket to my girls ballet show tonight. She’s doing a solo dance this year! She doesn’t want me to watch her practice, says it’s gonna be a surprise.”

 

“Listen, if you stay up here and clean up a couple of my floors, I will give ya the money. “

 

“I’ll pay ya back, I promise. “

 

“Naw, you’re good. You got a birthday comin’ up anyways, consider it an early gift.”

 

Doug slid the money in my hand. No words were shared after that, he knew. As shameful as I am to admit it, Doug was the ideal family man. He had a house, three amazing kids, and a wife. Love was never a question for the man. The only thing he was missing was the puppy and the white picket fence.

 

Doug made way to the elevators, and descended down to the lower floors. I took the money and slid it in my pocket. It pressed firmly against my thigh as it was pinned down from the delicate lump.

 

The work day progressed at a snails pace. However, I have to admit it was easier to lift my head now that Doug lent me some money. I soon found myself whistling and moping, singing and scrubbing. I kept looking at the clock awaiting lunch time. It was going to be the only opportunity I have to make amends with Catherine before the recital that night. 8:32a.m.… 8:39a.m… 8:45a.m…

 

----------

 

I made way into the offices of the Atlantic Bank of New York. Trash needed to be replaced. As I walked in, I noticed a few of the employees gathered toward the windows. One employee began pointing and asking his peers, “Is that a plane?”

 

I didn’t think anything of it, and continued tending to the trash bins. Seconds later, I noticed pencils in a tray. They were different, they were shaking… on their own.

 

“It’s gonna hit us!”

 

The building shook, knocking most of us to our knees. Amongst all the screams and cries, I made way to the window where I was greeted by an enormous cloud of black.

 

“What happened?”

 

Nobody answered.

 

“Can somebody tell me what the hell is happening?!” I rang out louder.

 

“A plane just flew into the building! Everyone leave, now... run!!”

 

The shrill of the fire alarm caused complete panic. We all ran to the elevators. None were operating. It was a long ways down, but I figured the emergency stairs would suffice. Shoulder to shoulder everyone ran down the stairs getting more congested the lower we went. I made it down four floors before I we realized we were stuck. A few of us gathered on Floor 102 and contemplated our doom. I paced in the back of the room thinking of what to do. Every time I would blink, portraits of my daughter would flash before me: one image of her innocent smile, the other a beautiful pirouette.

I leaned against a wall and looked around me. I was amongst CEO’s, Financial Advisors, Clientele, and Secretaries. They were amongst just me, a janitor. It didn’t matter though, at that moment we were all the same. Titles meant nothing. I glanced at the gentleman beside me, probably a CEO, he looked up at me with an ashen face and watery eyes.

 

“Are we going to be ok?” he asked shaken, and tearful.

 

He was asking me, a janitor, as if I had answers. I could only look at him.

 

“Answer me, please, are we going to be alright?”

I reached out and grabbed his hand, held it, and gave it three gentle taps, then made a slow thoughtful walk towards the windows of the building. There was no view, only smoke and a teasing glimpse of flames. I turned around and looked at the individuals in the room with me. A few were making frantic phone calls, others praying the Lord’s Prayer. All sense of who we were was forgotten at this moment. We all knew what would happen, just too afraid to admit it.

 

----------

 

Amy, Catherine, and Julie were watching television when without warning news channels all across New York were interrupting casual viewing. Before the reporters had the chance to say what happened, Catherine was thrown to the ground in horror. Before her stood the picture of the North Tower in flames, unstable.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we just received word that a plane has struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center. We are transferring you to a live feed with our reporters in the Channel 12 Chopper.”

 

Catherine shook with pure fear of the unknowing.

 

“We are understanding that the individuals above the impact are trapped…”

 

Amy placed her hand on the shoulder of Catherine. Soon she found herself regretting the night before. She wanted nothing more but to replace words of hate to creations of love. Her lips moved to motioning hurtful vocabulary, when instead she wanted them to portray blown kisses.

 

“Mommy, Daddy’s on T.V.”

 

----------

 

 

I turned back around, and approached closer to where the windows once were. Bravely, I stood on the edge trying to see through the smoke. I looked up and saw a helicopter, where I held my hand out as they looked at me with helpless eyes: just another way to reassure that our end was eminent. Minutes gone by, nothing was happening. The cracks and pops the fire below us were creating were making their presence known. I wanted to call Catherine so bad to tell her I love her; if I only knew where she was.

 

 

I stood back up at the edge of the building. I reached in my pocket… the lump was still there. I pulled it out and revealed to myself a box with a bow just as delicate as the one Julie always wore. Carefully I opened it. It wasn’t easy to do as my hands trembled and knees shook. I unclothed the most beautiful single diamond ring: a symbol that was to show Catherine that I would keep her forever. I gave the ring a gentle kiss, placed it back in my pocket, closed my eyes… and jumped.

 

 

As I traveled with the wind through the smoke and fire, I closed my eyes and smiled. Falling to the ground a slideshow of visions of Catherine giving me gentle kisses, Julie telling me how much she loves me, and tight hugs from them both flooded my thoughts. I was falling quicker than my tears, eventually free of physical and emotion pain. Still, I remained hopeful.... but in reality, the concrete would take me home.