Messages of Love
A lacy red silk negligee was on the bed, waiting for her to put it on after her bath.
In the dining room downstairs, candles graced a beautifully laid table, and vases of freesia perfumed the air. A bottle of a Puligny-Montrachet, cooling in a silver ice bucket, was open, allowing it to breathe.
Now if only he'd get home.
As if thinking of him had somehow conjured him up, the phone rang. She grabbed the handset off the kitchen counter, dropping the spoon she'd been using to stir his favorite marinara sauce. She smiled when she saw his cell phone number on the caller ID.
"Hi baby," she answered, smiling.
"Is that how you always answer the phone?" Ian's deep chuckle caused a little thrill in her stomach.
"Well, I thought it was my boyfriend calling to wish me a happy Valentine's Day. But it's only my husband." She let out a long, exaggerated sigh.
"Oh, well, if you're expecting his phone call, I could let you go."
"No, no," Ashley tried hard to keep the giggle out of her voice. A giggle he could get out of her so easily even after ten years of marriage. "Since you called, I suppose I can talk to you for a few minutes."
"I miss you, baby."
Ashley felt the fluttering squeeze of emotions that his words brought her. She smiled and held the receiver closer as if she could hug him through it. "I miss you, too, love. When will you be home?"
"Soon. I'm between meetings now. I have one more with the head of publicity, and if everything works out right, I should be able to leave as soon as that's over. Did you get the reservations made? Someplace nice and out of our budget, with a dance floor?"
The smile on Ashley's face bloomed even wider as she thought of the evening she had planned for them tonight. "Oh, reservations were no problem, honey. They'll even hold our table for a while if you have to be a little late. I can't believe they even made you go to these meetings on a Saturday."
"It is a little creepy. Here's this big building and there are only myself and the director here, besides the security guards. Everything echoes. Okay, hon, I gotta go, the director's ready for me. I love you, baby."
The connection was broken and the dial tone took over before Ashley could answer him. She laughed. "I love you, too, knucklehead."
She ran over her list of things to do before he got home. The next thing she had was to was dump the kids. Ruth, her best friend, had offered to take them for the night. The twins, Kelsey and Christopher, who were nine, loved their "Aunty Ruth." She never failed to show them a new way to have fun.
She turned the burner down under the sauce, washed her hands, and then picked up the two back packs she had used to put the kids clothes in. Going to the stairwell, she hollered up at the kids, watched as they clomped their way down, and then hustled them out to the minivan.
~~~~~~~
Ian stood waiting for the elevator, a smug smile on his face. He'd pulled it off, the biggest coup of his career. The contracts had been signed and now sat safely in his briefcase, along with the compact disc that held the ad designs his agency had come up with to woo Zap City Foods from their competitors. He'd be getting a big bonus that would make the last four days of grueling hours, reworking designs, and thinking on his feet more than worth while.
The door slid open and he stepped into the empty car, turning to hit the button for the ground floor. He hadn't been teasing when he'd told Ashley that this place was giving him the creeps. It seemed too empty, almost as if it had died. He laughed to himself as the doors closed and the car started its trip downward. Next thing he'd be seeing men with knives for fingers coming at him.
He settled back against the wall, watching the digital numbers change slowly as the elevator descended.
The tremor was so slight he thought he'd imagined it at first, then a loud clapping boom had him dropping his briefcase and covering his ears. The elevator shook and then was buffeted about. Ian screamed as he was tossed around the car as it dropped, faster and faster, until it abruptly stopped.
Ian glanced around, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. He heard a creaking noise and felt the car shift slightly. His heart thumped hard in his chest as adrenaline rushed through his veins. What the fuck was going on?
As a minute passed, he thought it was over. He started to get off the floor and reached towards his briefcase to get his phone to call for help. The lights flashed and went out, the creaking sound came again, but louder, and then the floor went out from under him as the car again plunged downward
The car shook and seemed to suddenly rip apart, shards of metal and heavy cable coming into the car around him, cutting his face and his hands as he tried futilely to protect himself. He knew he was going to die, and he closed his eyes, wishing he could have somehow said goodbye to his wife and kids.
The elevator cab hit twisted metal, one corner catching against a sharp edge, which slowed its descent as more metal caught at the sides. When it came to a stop, it wasn't going half as fast as it could have been, but still carried enough momentum to break even more. Ian lay inside, his eyes closed, blood trickling from one ear and from a cut to his head, as an eerie darkness settled over him.
~~~~~~
"Thanks, Ruth. You don't know how much I appreciate you taking them tonight. Ian and I haven't had a full night to ourselves in over a year."
Ruth waved a hand in front of her pretty face, her bottle-blonde hair swinging. "Not a problem, Ash. I know you'd do the same for me. Well, you would if I ever have kids."
Ashley blew her a kiss and hurried down the front walk to the van. If her estimations were correct, she'd be able to grab a bath when she got home, maybe even relax a little with a glass of wine.
She smiled and turned the radio on to her station now she didn't have any kids saying "ewww yuck, mom."
"--rescue teams are on the scene now. So far we have no idea of the number of injured and dead. I repeat, New York City's Grazier Building, a historical landmark, was riddled by a series of explosions just a few moments ago. We have no comment from authorities yet as to what caused the explosions, or whether they will be raising the Homeland Security Advisory System from it's position at yellow for elevated risk to orange for high risk."
Ashley's heart was in her throat. There was no way it was the same building that Ian was in. No way. She'd heard wrong. Her foot hit the accelerator and she sped around cars, barely making it into her own driveway. She ran into the house, grabbing the remote control on her way through to the kitchen and flipping on the TV. They were showing pictures of the building, flames engulfing the section that was still standing, the rest buckled and spread on the ground like a child's toy construction set .
Ian's itinerary was on the refrigerator, under a colorful clown head magnet. Her knees buckled when she saw the address for Zap City Foods. The Grazier Building. Her husband was in that building.
She grabbed the phone. Maybe he'd gotten out before the building blew up. Pressing numbers frantically, she ran into the living room, sinking to the floor in front of the TV set.
"Oh God, oh God. Answer the phone, Ian. Come on baby, answer the phone." After five rings, his voice mail picked up and she hung up, dialing the number again. "No, no, answer the phone, baby. God dammit, answer the phone!" Tears streaked down her cheeks, sobs building in her chest. Fear for her husband swamped her. She dropped the phone on the floor, her eyes drawn to the pictures that were flashing on the screen.
The horror that was a huge cloud of black oily looking smoke hovering over the fractured building faced her on the TV. Rubble was everywhere, in the streets, burying taxis and cars. Papers blew in the wind, along with ash that seemed to coat everything with a gray skin. She could see firemen in their yellow hats and bulky jackets bravely fighting against the overwhelming heat of the raging fire. Rescue workers in their orange vests, light duty inhalation masks covering their faces against the smoke, dug through rubble to exhume vehicles, looking for survivors of the initial blasts.
The phone beside her rang, scaring her so badly she couldn't think for a second. She grabbed it, pressing the talk button. "Ian?"
"No, Ashley, it's me Ruth. Is that the building he's in?" Ashley could hear the concern in her friends voice.
"Yes, Ruth, and he's...he's..." tears threatened, and a sob caught in her throat.
"Okay, Ash, hold on. I'm going to get my mom to take your kids tonight and I'll be right there. Just hold on, honey."
She stared at the phone, not even remembering when she'd turned it off.
~~~~~~~~
Water dripping.
That was the first thing he heard. It was dark and the water dripped incessantly. He mumbled, begging someone to get up and turn the tap off, stop the drip, drip, drip sound. He hurt, all over, but mostly his head and his shoulder. Opening his eyes, the darkness surrounding him seemed absolute, a scary pit with no light of hope to be found.
Where was he? He forced his aching mind to think back, to remember something.
The contracts! He'd gotten the contracts signed, then taken the elevator. It had crashed. Was he dead?
No, he couldn't be dead and be hurting this badly. That would be just a cruel trick of fate. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out some of his surrounding and saw the outline of the doors of the elevator. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to a sitting position, his back against what had once been the wall of the elevator. His head spun, and his stomach threatened to empty as pain swung him in dizzying circles. His shoulder throbbed with every sickening beat of his heart, and he couldn't help but wonder how badly he was hurt.
If he could find his briefcase, it had his keys in i t. His keys that had a small flashlight that his children had given to him for Christmas last year. Using one hand, he felt around the floor of the elevator, carefully moving aside shredded pieces of metal and glass. When he finally found the familiar case, he could have cried. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but not knowing, and the uncertainty of what the dark held, was unnerving.
He clicked open the latches and felt around inside the big top pocket, finding his keys, choking back a sob of relief. When he turned the light on, it was almost too bright and too sudden, but so very welcome as he shone the beam around the car.
Or what was left of the car. The doors were bulging inward, the sides buckled and full of holes. Rubble drained in, creating a dust that made him cough every now and then. Twisted beams had crashed through the top of the elevator, one going straight through the interior and into the bottom about six inches from where he'd been when he woke up.
"Oh shit," he breathed. Six inches one way and he wouldn't be sitting here. Well half of him would still be here, the other half wherever that beam ended.
Ian went to stand up and felt the car move under his weight. He stopped instantly, listening as the car moaned and creaked, and somewhere he could hear thumping noises as something fell. How far from the bottom was he? And what was keeping this elevator from falling any further?
"Oh God, help me," he prayed, staring around the car at the surrealistic nightmare in which he was now at center stage.
~~~~~~
Ashley hadn't moved since Ruth had called. She was sitting, staring at the images on the TV. When one channel would take a break, she'd flip to a different one, searching the shocked gray faces of the people in the crowds for the beloved one of her husband.
Where is he? He couldn't be in that building. He couldn't be dead. She'd know if he were dead, wouldn't she? She'd be able to feel it somehow?
When Ruth came into the room, letting herself in with her own key, Ashley almost screamed. She wrapped her arms around her friend, dragging her down to the floor next to her as she repeated over and over, "He's not dead, he's not dead. I'd know if he were dead."
Ruth rocked her slowly, stroking her hair while she shook. "Yes, Ash, you'd know if he were dead. It's okay, he's going to be okay. He's probably on his way home. Did you try his cell phone?"
"Yes," Ashley mumbled, nodding her head that she had buried in Ruth's shoulder. "His voice mail answered. He's still in that building Ruth, I know he is."
"Didn't you say he was in a meeting? Maybe he turned off his phone and just forgot to turn it back on. Maybe you should try it again?"
"He's still in that building, Ruth. I can feel it." Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the phone that her friend held out to her. If she took it, if she called and he didn't answer...
She took it with hands that shook, feeling her friend's hand come to rest on her shoulder. It needed two tries for her to dial the number, her fingers seeming impossibly slow and clumsy. She hit the send button and held her breath, waiting.
~~~~~
Ian again sat with his back against the wall of the elevator. He'd tried moving, tried getting to the doors, but every move he made seemed to shift the car and make it slip. In his hands he held his precious light, turned off now to save the battery. He didn't know how long he would be trapped inside this hell. He had his eyes closed, trying to think of other things but where he was right then.
Ashley. He wished he were in her arms right then, his face against her damp neck as their bodies shivered together in the aftermath of making love. She made this little noise, a kind of humming, in her throat afterwards, when she would hold herself to him, her arms tightly around him, stroking his back or his hair. He wished he could hear that little humming now.
A coughing spasm caught him by surprise and racked his body. His head spun even more, making him nauseated. He brought his knees up a little closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Closing his eyes, he pictured his wife, his pretty, petite Ashley, with her golden eyes and dark brown hair. She had a smile that lit up her face and his heart.
He would never forget the first time he saw her, that first second of recognition he'd had, like something from a déjà vu experience. She'd been behind the counter of the NYU coffee shop, laughing at something someone had said. Her hair had been long then, pulled back in a ponytail that had gone through a hole in the back of the cap they were forced to wear. Her heart shaped face had been flushed from the heat of the machines she was working with. And he'd fallen in love right there and then.
He didn't drink coffee, but he started then.
~~~~~~~~
"What can I get you?" Ashley Burk, a tiny spitfire of a brunette with a ready laugh and a huge smile that matched her huge heart, grinned up at the tall, dark haired guy who'd been coming in everyday for the past week.
"Um, large regular coffee, and um...," Ian McKenna could feel himself blushing as he worked up the courage to ask this dream girl out. "Your phone number?"
Ashley looked over the embarrassed guy. He was cute, but not in the strictly too handsome, too perfect way her friends thought the guys she dated should be. He had spiky brown hair that stood up in a cute cowlick on the left front of his head. His nose was crooked, and his face was kind of on the long side. But his eyes were blue, and sincere, and somehow innocent.
She turned without saying anything, considering, then poured his coffee. When she turned around again, she caught him grimacing, probably at himself, she thought. That nailed it right there. "How about, instead, you meet me here tomorrow night? Maybe a movie?"
His smile was sudden and took her by surprise. He took the cup of coffee from her hands, thanking her and turning to leave. Then he turned back suddenly just as she was about to wait on the man behind him. "I didn't pay for this." He started to dig in his pocket.
Ashley smiled, thinking he really was cute. "It's on me."
"Oh, uh, thanks," he stuttered, turning red. He started to walk away again when she stopped him this time.
"What's your name?"
"Ian, Ian McKenna. And you're Ashley, right?"
She nodded.
"Tomorrow, seven o'clock?" he asked eagerly.
"I'll be here."
He nodded and took his cup, pulling out his business books and finding an empty table to study at while he snuck glances at the vivacious brunette. She'd said yes, she'd actually agreed to go out with him.
He brought her flowers, a small bouquet of sweet smelling carnations in pinks and reds. Ashley held the bouquet to her nose and breathed deeply of their spicy fragrance as she looked him over.
Tall and lanky, in jeans and a button down shirt, his hands seemed too big for his arms, as if he hadn't finished growing yet. His eyes were bright, and he gave her a small kiss on the cheek when he handed her the flowers.
They walked to the theater from the coffee shop. And found out all the things they had in common. Ian was shy at first, glancing down at the ground often as he talked. When she didn't laugh at his ideas, he became bolder in expressing himself. Then they were seated in the theater, the dark surrounding them. She held the popcorn between them, and they watched while the first big-breasted blonde was stalked and killed in the newest slasher film that was the talk of the town.
By the time of the third kill, Ashley had her face buried in his shirt, and he had his arm around her.
He could smell the scent of her shampoo wafting from her silky hair, and the tantalizing aroma of her perfume. She smiled up at him apologetically after her last shriek, and he fell in love again.
They took a walk after the movie, ending up in a small diner, laughing and talking until almost 4 a.m. He walked her to the small apartment she shared with two other girls a few blocks from the college, holding her hand and growing more quiet the closer they got to her home.
"Can I see you again, Ashley?" he asked, standing at the doorway of her brownstone.
"I'd really like that, Ian." She tensed when he lowered his head, but he merely brushed her cheek with his lips and stepped back, his hand lingering against the softness of her skin.
He watched as she opened the door and slipped inside, then turned, and with an ecstatic shout, jogged away.
~~~~~~
The melodic tones of his cell phone woke him from the hazy sleep he'd fallen into . He reached for his briefcase, struggling against the darkness to find his phone before it quit ringing. Why hadn't he thought of his phone before?
"H...hello," he stammered, holding his only tie to the outside world with both hands. "Hello?"
"Ia...tha....od" The words were half garbled.
"Dammit!" He tried sliding over to find a better signal but the rumble of loosened metal gave him pause. "Ashley? Is that you baby?"
"Can y...he..e?"
"Baby, it's me. Can you hear me, Ashley?" His heart started pounding faster. She would get help and get him out of this elevator. "Ashley?"
The connection had gone dead. "No," he cried, his eyes shut as he held the phone, staring at it and shaking it as if that would bring her back. "No," he whimpered, finally shutting the phone and feeling desperation gnaw in his heart.
~~~~
"It was him, Ruth. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I know it was him." She looked up from the phone she was still holding. Tears shone on her cheeks. "He's alive."
"Try it again."
Ashley hit the redial button and listened to the almost silent clicks as the phone connected. It rang briefly and a recorded message came on.
"They say all circuits are busy, Ruth." She hung up the phone and held it against her breast. "I've got to get there. Maybe if I get closer, I can pick him up on my cell."
|
