The stooped man moved with me, but toward the
elevator, which was next to the door to the steps. “I saw you talking to an old
friend of mine,” he said as he pressed the Down button.
“Really? Who's that?” I pushed open the
stairwell door.
“Bill Manion.” The elevator dinged.
Curiosity warred with claustrophobia.
Curiosity won. “Hold the door.” I scooted into the empty car behind the stooped
man. “You know Bill?”
“Yep. We used to work together. Then I got
laid off and lost track of him.” The man touched the 'L' button.
“Is that good
for you?”
“What? Oh, no. Three, please. I use the
catwalk.” Then I remembered. I wasn't in my usual spot. The third floor was
roped off. “Nope, sorry. The lobby will be fine today.”
“You must not be from here.” He smiled at my
puzzled look. “Minnesotans say 'skyway', not 'catwalk'.”
“You're right. I've been here for about ten
years.” The elevator descended and my stomach did an equally unpleasant
plummet. “How long did you and Bill work together?” Keep talking, I thought. Keep
your mind off the elevator and movement and the small space and the walls
and...
“Almost twenty years. Then I got laid off and
times got rough.” The man's face hardened briefly, bitterness replacing the
dull resignation in his tired eyes. “And I got sick.”
Poor man. Losing a job was bad enough, but
losing your health on top of it? I dug a business card out of my bag, my
trembling fingers making the task difficult. “I work for the county and we have
regular get-togethers for folks who are unemployed. Stop by sometime.”
He took the card and stared at it. I
recognized his skeptical look. I'd seen it often enough on the faces of
job-hunters at the county employment office where I volunteered. “We call it
the Coping Club,” I said. “We talk about coping strategies for job hunting and
dealing with unemployment. We meet on Tuesdays and Fridays.”
The elevator doors opened and two people got
on. I shuffled to one side to make room, restraining myself from bolting for
the open door.
The man moved closer to me, speaking in a low
voice. “I haven't seen Bill for a while. Have you known him long?”
“No, I just met him. We met by accident.”
“Oh. Well...” He didn't look at me, his
bloodshot gray eyes bouncing around the elevator car. The other two passengers
were deep in conversation, ignoring us. “I suppose...”
“Yes?” Keep
talking, keep talking, keep talking. The floor indicators were creeping
past two and heading for one. After one there was the lobby. It was so close. Keep talking.
“I suppose since you're not from around here,
you don't know about him.”
“Know about him?” The door dinged and people
got on. I wanted to curse them. What idiot couldn't walk down one flight of
stairs? The stooped man and I were moved to the back of the car, exactly the
wrong spot for me. I broke out in a light sweat and clung to the strap of my
purse. “What about Bill?” I asked.
The man shook his head. “It was sad. Not a
nice story.”
My stomach dropped even further and I was
close to clawing my way out of the space when the indicator dinged and the door
finally opened. I almost fell out of the elevator, pushing past people in my
haste. “What story?” I asked breathlessly in the small foyer.
The man started walking down the hall. “Rumor
has it he raped someone.”
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