The Charity Banquet

I agreed to meet Sonny at the charity event at 5pm sharp. It was important to be early; as one of the chairwomen, I had to give a speech to thank all of the sponsors and anonymous philanthropists with their generous donations. The thing about Carlisle Beach, New Jersey, is that everybody in your neighborhood is either a caring philanthropist or a closed-minded, selfish, red-faced fool. I struggled to get on my nude heels in my hotel room, Sandra watching me trip over my own feet. I wish the woman would help me. It’s not like it’s her job. 

“Sandra? A hand?” Remnants of my purse flew out onto the shag carpeting. Sandra hurriedly attended to me, picking up my belongings and setting them on the hotel vanity. 

“Do you - I’m sorry, do you want me to put on your shoes for you?” She asked, undoubtedly confused. 

“Don’t sound so condescending.” I snapped back, and she got on her knees to buckle the straps along my pale ankles. She cinched one a little too tight of a notch, looking up sheepishly as an apology. I swiped through my phone to see last minute donations come through the foundation’s website. Sandra adjusted herself, standing back up and brushing herself off. 

“Are you ready?” She asked, with uncertainty piercing her voice. A new intern was always something I enjoyed toying with. I looked down and put my phone away in my bag. 

“Carry this, please.” She nodded swiftly and bent over to grab my leather purse. 

The two of us made our way down the narrow Hilton hallways, dusted with beige wallpapers and horribly ruby red carpets. If you didn’t have your ear to the floor, you wouldn’t even be able to hear Sandra and I’s heels clicking and snagging in the shaggy ground. We stood in thick silence, awaiting the elevator to arrive and shuttle us to the second floor banquet hall. The elevator was taking up a large amount of our time, and I clicked my tongue while staring at my thin watch. 4:57pm. 

“I should have known,” my words piercing the audible silence between us, “that with outdated carpeting like this, the elevators would scarcely be up to code.” Sandra didn’t say anything in response, staring at her feet, then straight ahead. The girl hardly ever made eye contact with me. From the side, however, I found Sandra to be quite pretty. Auburn hair tucked behind her ears, and pulled into a ponytail with the hair wrapped around the elastic. To be honest, I didn’t even remember her eye color; she has never looked me in the eyes. I couldn’t tell from this angle if they were brown or hazel. Sandra was made aware I was staring at her, and turned her head in the other direction to pretend like I wasn’t analyzing her every detail and move. The elevator chimes were nowhere to be heard. 

“Sandra.” I snapped, and her head swiveled around remarkably fast, her eyes on the carpet.

“Yes?” She spoke softly and quickly. Her fear of me is audible.

“Go find a maintenance worker. Ask them if there’s a problem with the elevators.” She ducked out of the hallway, placing my bag on a gold accent desk, and disappeared. I blew air through my mouth, staring precisely at the floor number that the 2 elevators seemed to be experiencing the most traffic. It was the second floor. Neither of them signaled they’d be coming up to the 13th floor anytime soon. My watch was the only thing I could hear in the quiet halls. Sandra returned within a minute.

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t seem like there’s -”

“Oh for God’s sake, Sandra.” I interrupted curtly, stomping down the hall. “Might as well take the damn stairs.” She hung her head and followed behind me. As we made our way to the gloomy staircase, I heard an elevator door open on the other side of the 13th floor. I looked wide-eyed to Sandra. 

“Get it, get it!” I said shrilly, as she briskly walked towards the sound. Turning the corner, it appeared to be a singular elevator, it’s doors open with hospitality and ominousness as well, it seemed. She huddled into the left corner, as I made my way to the right. 

“All is well.” I said, the doors closing on us and the long, narrow, Shining-esque hallway. The elevator began to descend, making a chime for every floor that it passed. Sandra stared straight ahead, fidgeting with the ridiculously fake jewelry on her fingers. Of course, this was in my opinion. The elevator churned and jerked, coming to a complete stop. The second floor button, however, remained lit in red. 

“Why did it stop?” I said aloud, glaring at the machinery. Sandra said nothing. “Why is it stopped??” I turned to hear to yell, and she looked up at the ceiling of the elevator in disarray. 

“Well this is ridiculous.” I reached out to press the second floor button once more. It was completely unclear what floor we were on. “I know you did something wrong. You’re the one who pressed the button.” Sandra said nothing, breathing as quiet as a mouse as to not set me off.

I pressed the button four more times, and looked down at my watch again. 

“It’s 5:05.” I looked at Sandra who avoided eye contact. “It’s past five, Sandra.” She finally glanced up at the center of my forehead. 

“I-” 

“Do you know what that means?” I said shrilly, my voice becoming higher-pitched and hysterical. The doors finally opened at a fast pace, and the two of us turned our heads to stare at what was in front of us.

The entire hallway was encrusted with dust, and cobwebs hanging right down in front of the opening. In fact, I shouldn’t even call it a hallway. It was more of a storage room; there were boxes galore, tumbling over each other yet coated in such a heavy layer of dust they could not be deciphered as none other than one big box. The room ahead carried no light, except for a singular unknown source, perhaps a lightbulb so suffocated by smut that the room was given nearly no light at all; it was a colder cast, that made everything appear to be an ice cave. There were dusty inanimate and unidentifiable objects that struck up every square inch of this “room.” The two of us stared beyond, in silence, for what seemed like a half hour. I didn’t even want to look at Sandra. I didn’t even know what to say, and my mouth was gaping open. 

“What the hell is this?” I finally managed to get out, in major awe and disgust. Sandra took a while to speak, and it was unknown if it was because of her undeniable fear of me in a power suit or because of the utter disbelief and shock of what we’d stumbled upon.

“I don’t…” She stuttered. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” Hurriedly, she reached to press the close door button, as the lights in the overhead of the elevator began to flicker. 

“Oh!” I screeched. “Oh, what’s that! What’s that!” The lights flickered nonstop, now, as it seemed something out of a horror movie. Sandra panted, mashing all different buttons to try and get us out of here. 

“Do something!” I hollered at her, as the doors squealed yet remained wide open. 

“I’m trying,” she said, her voice cracking. She pressed the alarm button, to which no sound came over the speaker. 

“I know.” I declared. “Hand me my phone, Sandra.” Sandra froze. “What? Hand me my phone. You have my bag.” She hung her head quickly. “Sandra. I’m not going to ask again.” At this moment, my eyes peered at her hands to see them empty. In a sudden flashback, I realized my bag was sitting on the 13th floor, on a gold accent table. I threw my hands on top of my head and applied pressure.

“Oh my God.” I paced inside the small elevator. “Oh, you are so fired. You are so fired, Sandra. Do you get that?” She nodded, accepting her fate. Probably relieved. “I can’t believe you. You are truly, truly an imbecile. Because now, now we can never get out. And we’re stuck down here. Stuck down here. And together! I’m surprised we’ve made it this far.” 

Sandra stared at her shoes, her hands limp at her sides. I could see from quick glances that her brow was furrowed, mimicking an expression that looked like she was crying. On a whim, I decided to step out of the elevator into this mysterious room. 

“Imbecile,” I muttered under my breath. I heard Sandra’s heels click in the elevator and whipped around. “Don’t you follow me! You stay put.” I shook my head and continued my journey. The ground was wet and crunchy, like gravel. Upon further examination, what I had once believed to be dust was the same wet, fuzzy growth that I was walking on. My heels dug into it. I heard Sandra’s whisper breath from behind me and I breathed heavily aloud. I turned on my heel. 

“If you’re going to come, don’t be a little baby about it. Get by my side.” She sprinted over to me, her heels mushing in the same gravel.

“You know,” she muttered as we explored, “I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” I glared at her. “You know, if I’m really fired. Like you said I was.” I didn’t respond, and felt my shoe hit something solid. 

“Shut up.” I commanded her, and she fell silent. I bent over to examine the obstacle closer. It appeared to be a medium-sized rock, dusted in the grime that everything appeared to be under. I ran my index finger on the top and brought it to my face, carefully observing it. It was like a wet, gray clay. It felt like it was penetrating all layers of my skin. 

Sandra and I were surrounded by what seemed to be protruding, dripping icicles, dripping the strange substance that echoed through the entire “cave.” Wherever we were was filled with a hollow cold, so odd that it felt it may be running through your entire body, in your blood. I felt my fingertip twinge. Behind the walls was emitting a low, dim, cold light, to give us some visibility. I turned around to make sure the elevator was still there, it’s doors open and broken to give us some guiding, harsh light. 

You got used to the cold, moist ground beneath you once you’d been sitting on it for hours. The lightbulb in the elevator eventually burned out, leaving us in the dimly-lit cave. Both of us had to take off our fancy shoes, because the clay ground engulfed the heel whenever we trudged along. Our backs were against the cold, cave walls. 

“You know,” I finally spoke, leaning my head against the sharp cave walls around me. “You have the same hair color as my only daughter.” 

“That’s… nice.” Sandra responded blandly. I guess she’d given up the whole act of trying to impress me and cater to my every need. She didn’t care anymore.

“Her name was Camille.”

“Okay.” Sandra stared off into space, her arms crossed over her knees that were pulled into her chest. 

“And she was a little bit younger than you.” I paused. “I think. How old are you?” Sandra sighed heavily. 

“23.” 

“That’s about it. Well, she was 20, but.” Sandra didn’t say anything back. 

“I’m guessing she’s dead.” She said back coldly. I fell silent, and stared at my bare feet, coated in gray clay. The cold breeze went through my chest like the flu, and I wheezed in my breathing. 

“I’m sorry,” Sandra said. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” My eyes welled up, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the bitter breeze that seemed to be getting colder or our conversation. I could tell, but I didn’t want to. 

“Yes.” I said blankly. “Yes, she’s dead.” Sandra and I didn’t say anything for a while. 

“Are we going to die here?” Sandra said after a couple of minutes. 

“I don’t know.” I responded, putting my face into my palms, feeling waves of cold hit the back of my bare neck. Every hair stood on edge, and every breeze felt like ice in my sternum. Sandra turned her face away from me to look at the elevator, which I couldn’t make out in the deep, blue shadows anymore. 

My eyes snapped open. The cave was no longer completely engulfed in darkness, but the blue behind the rocky walls began to grow brighter. My entire body was stiff, and I couldn’t feel my index finger any longer. I turned my head to my best ability. 

“Sandra?” I called out. I turned slowly to the other direction to see her head hanging over her chest, eyes closed and lips purple. I felt my stomach throw itself into reverse, but I couldn’t get sick. My stomach felt like it was gurgling with ice cold water. I reached out a brittle arm to shake her shoulder. I felt a crack twinge in my back. I shook her harder, and her head hardly bobbed - it was like she was a frozen statue. 

I tried to turn her head to look at me, so I could make out the details of her face and look for signs of life, still. I breathed heavily, panting, trying to reach my one finger underneath her icy nose. Her auburn hair had gone from bright red to a pale, cool gray. I wondered if maybe that was what my hair looked like too. I couldn’t reach under her nose, so I hit her again and again with my stone hand. 

Her eyes shot open at last, and immediately dilated in panic. She went to open her mouth, but her lips were so cold that they did not part. She murmured something and darted her eyes to meet mine. Turns out they were blue, after all. 

At that second, the elevator begins to emit a whirring, mechanical sound, followed by a high-pitched chime, the same chime to notify patrons that it has descended to their floor. The lights flickered back on, flashing back and forth from darkness to brightness similar to a strobe. The chiming began to go an octave lower. I blinked a couple of times, as Sandra looked longingly towards the commotion. 

“We have to get in that elevator,” I croaked, trying to muster as much volume as I could without straining my frozen larynx. Sandra turned her head to look at me, her transparent blue eyes darting all over in anguish. She shook it back and forth, to signal no to me.

“Come on,” I said, “you can do it. Get up. Get up, Sandra.” I pleaded. At this moment, I tried to pull myself off the ground as the whirring grew faster and louder. My one arm had retracted into my side, against my ribs, frozen there somehow. I used my other hand to prop myself up, my knees cracking at every tiny movement. 

“Get up, Sandra.” I snapped, straining my voice to be louder, to be heard. Sandra’s eyes rolled around as she moaned painfully, and let her head fall back behind her. “NO!” I screeched at her, her eyes opening up again. She groaned to be let alone. The elevator screamed. I was on my two feet, my skin sinking into the ground. Sandra closed her eyes again tightly, her lips making no attempt to move. I used my good arm to grab her by her feet, and started to drag her along the gravel, covering her entire suit in the plaster. The whirring got more intense the closer we neared to the doors, and Sandra was making noises on the ground, in my grip. I was trudging and heaving her body behind me to try and make it back to the doors, which appeared to be growing farther and farther away from my sight. 

Her body slid into the elevator as the doors began to close, and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor, shivering in pain and feeling hot flashes wave over my body. 

In the hospital the following weeks, I got the news that my young assistant Sandra had unfortunately passed due to her injuries. It seemed like everytime I blinked, and engulfed myself in the same recognizable darkness, I just saw her pale, blue eyes staring up at me in panic and anxiety. I could never rid my thoughts of her once bright auburn hair fading to a shocking gray in that mysterious room. Maybe I died there, I questioned. I stared out my window at the cold, gloomy weather that had engulfed Carlisle Beach. And once again, I was alone.