Stuck

Charles Reed strides into the lobby of his workplace. The receptionist waves at him and he returns the gesture, albeit without pausing in his pace. He has a long day ahead of him and a lot of work. Time spent talking could be better spent writing the next contract draft.

“Yes Jimmy,” Charles says into the Bluetooth earpiece attached to his ear, “I’ll write the Bennysons contract draft today, you’ll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning.”

“You sure, Reed? The first meeting isn’t for another two days.” Jimmy replies. Reed can hear Jimmy’s noisy car in the background.

“The sooner I have it done, the more time we’ll have to polish it,” Charles replies and presses the call-button for the elevator, “And I have two more drafts to write up this week.”

It takes a moment before Jimmy replies and Charles can hear the trunk of a car opening and closing. “Alright Reed. Just make sure you ask if you need a hand, you seem to have more on your place this week than I do.”

The call-button is still lit up and the floor indicator is moving at an agonizing pace. If it were any slower, Charles would have taken the stairs, composure be damned. “I’ve got hold of it, Jimmy, no worries. Here, elevator’s almost here, I’ll give you a call when I’m at my desk.”

“That sounds good, Reed, see you then.” Jimmy hangs up on his end and the elevator doors open in front of Charles. A couple of women nod at Charles and get out, leaving the cabin to him. He hurries inside and presses the 10^th floor button several times. The machinery pauses for a moment then obeys the command, leaving Charles Reed alone in the elevator cabin as it jolts and begins to rise along the shaft. Left without much connection and no one to talk to, Reed simply stands and waits, no daydreams or idle thoughts.

After some four floors, the lights in the elevator flicker. Charles glances at it but thinks nothing of it. Another floor passes and the light goes out and does not return before the cabin approaches the 7^th floor. Charles Reed presses the 8^th floor button with a nervous glance at the lights, but his hand barely leaves the control-panel before the entire cabin jolts and throws Charles Reed to the floor. As he groans on the floor, bruised and winded, he registers that the cabin is not moving. It is still, the metal groaning ever so slightly. The light comes back on, but it is the red light of backup power. Charles pulls himself up by the handrail and presses a random floor on the control-panel to no effect. With increasing frustration, he presses more of the buttons, hammering at the plastic discs.

“Why now of all times.” He grumbles and switches to the in-cabin phone. He presses it to his ear while scanning the instructions for the service number. But when he finds it and begins entering the number, the complete lack of noise or sounds over the line leads him to believe that has also been affected by the outage.

His thoughts turn to the metal box that now has him captive. He opens the doors after much straining but finds the shaft opening up in front of him. The shaft is dark, the only illumination being from his elevator cabin and the slight cracks by the doors for the various floors. A ladder is attached to the wall of the shaft, but he dislikes the distance and the look of the metal in the darkness. At least he can feel a constant movement of air so he should be able to stay here just fine till the power comes back on or a rescue party arrives. He tries the phone again but finds the same result as he did at first.

“Hello!?” Charles Reed shouts out of the open door. Echoes bounce up and down the elevator shaft, but there is no response. On an impulse he whips out his phone. The words No Signal display prominently on the status bar. He still tries to call Jimmy to inform him of the delay, but his phone simply says that it cannot reach the number. Charles shuts down the earpiece with a frustrated sigh and puts it away. No way to tell how long he is going to be stuck here and no way to inform his colleagues of the situation beyond what they can guess themselves.

He would have spent the time working on one of the drafts, but all his data and resources are on his desk and his computer, neither of which he can access without any signal. He sits down and tries his best to put the rising frustration from his mind. Precious time is slipping away in this metal box. For a while he paces the little cabin, barely able to take 3 steps before he has to turn around, and it does little to alleviate the frustration that he feels. Figuring there must be something, Charles sits down and takes out his phone again. What data does he have locally stored? There must be something.

He looks through his messages. Various discussions with colleagues or partners. A message chain he has not checked for a few days from his wife. Most of it is grocery lists that she sent to be sure, but one he has not seen before. It is a picture of his family drawn with crayon or watercolor; the image quality leaves it uncertain. The artistic skill, for lack of a better term, is very low, and must be something his son drew in kindergarten. Working on so many cases, Charles has been coming home well the children’s bedtime lately, so he must have missed it. He has been very busy. The rest of the messages hold next to no information of use, so he looks through his notes. It quickly becomes clear that he should be better at writing notes on his phone, or porting notes to it. The most recent note is from nearly a year ago, his own preparations for the anniversary with his wife. The date of the anniversary is not mentioned, so Charles switches to the calendar. His calendar is packed with meetings and deadlines and the date for his anniversary is nearly obscured beneath other appointments.

When was the last time he talked to his wife? Yesterday, if you want to be specific about it, but talked to her about something other than work? That is a much tougher question, and Charles Reed feels that it shouldn’t be. Scanning through the rest of the month’s appointments, he notices another personal one, likewise obscured beneath piles of work.

Drive Ben to first soccer practice – Today – 17:00

Now that he sees the schedule, he remembers the conversation. He had said that he would try to make it, but if he could not then his wife would have to take Benjamin. This morning, he had told Jimmy that he would finish the Bennysons draft today, a task that would be possible, but he would be working till well past 20. During that conversation, he had not thought of his arrangement with his own son for even a second. He was promoted some 8 months ago, and he was so swamped with work for a while until he adjusted. However, Reed reflects, it seems that he adjusted by abandoning his family.

Charles Reed checks the time. It feels like hours have gone by, but it has not even been 10 minutes since the power outage. He leans back and rests his head against the cool metal wall of the elevator cabin. He would like to do some phone calls, but there is still no reception in the elevator shaft. But as he finishes that thought, the red emergency lights go out and the regular lights come back on with a flicker. The control panel buttons for 7^th, 8^th and 10^th floors light up and the elevator cabin begins to move with a jolt. Charles Reed chuckles as the door that he forced open only just manages to close before the cabin arrives at the 7^th floor and opens again. Several people wait outside the door talking in hushed tones that turn more excited as Charles stands up and walks outside. He needs to go to the 10^th floor, which is a short distance by elevator. Given the circumstances, however, he decides to take the stairs.

During the walk he makes some phone-calls to reschedule some meetings. He calls Jimmy, the man clearly driving, and asks his colleague for a little help with the Bennysons contract, explaining that he needs to leave by 16:30. He has a family appointment to uphold.