The Elevator

The Elevator

The elevator in Ted’s new apartment building had been broken since he moved in. At the time, the Super said “Two-three days.” It had been almost two weeks. He didn’t know how other tenants were fairing because he hadn’t met any, working as a night watchman, he got home when they were sleeping. With him though, his job required him to walk the building and perimeter every hour, so by the time he got home, four flights of stairs were not on his fun list.

He was extra tired today. Before work he had visited his mother in the home, his only living relative. She had thought he was one of the staff during his whole visit. As he walked around work his thoughts grew deeper and sadder. His beautiful wife taken from him through illness. His father long gone, his mother rarely knowing who he was. It was like he lived in a world full of people, alone. The stairs just another obstacle between him and the blissful escape of sleep.

He took off his jacket as he climbed, it felt good to be free of the heavy thing. From somewhere above he began to hear music, soft, pleasant music. It lifted his spirits. He looked up, he wasn’t sure which floor was next, forgetting to pay attention. At the next landing door, he peeked out to see if it was his floor.

There was a room, in a chair before him was his mother. “Ted! You’re finally here!” He looked around astonished, his father waved, and through a door came his beautiful wife, smiling like the day they married. Ted walked in.
…
“Heart attack, huh,” said the Super to the cop. “I hope this guy hasn’t got family, they’ll probably sue us about that broken elevator.”