The foyer of an office building is an eerie place to be in the middle of the night. A space so accustomed to the hustle and bustle of everyday activity seems almost ghostly playing host to nothing but midnight silence. Well – almost silence.
The overhead fluorescents continue their incessant hum; such a constant sound that it can often be mistaken for silence, itself. Until, that is, it is compared to genuine silence. Then it is exposed for the ceaseless din that it is.
There was a scratching sound, too. It came from the desk beside the main door, behind which sat the foyer’s solitary inhabitant; the night watchman. Graveyard security. Dressed smartly in navy trousers and a white button-down shirt that matched his tight curls of white hair but not his dark skin. He was hunched over the log-book, scribbling his hourly update.
Upon completing that duty, he stood up to begin the next. He stepped out from behind the desk, rattling the handles of the main door as he passed it (Definitely locked. Good.) and strode across the clean, tiled floor; his shiny, polished shoes clicking loudly as if in intentional defiance of the quiet. He passed the elevator and pushed through the door marked ‘Stairs’.
The watchman climbed the stairs to the first floor slowly. He checked the deserted rooms for switched-on appliances, open windows, things of that sort, and he turned out the lights. First floor done, he headed back to the stairwell and climbed to the second. Rinse. Repeat.
On the twelfth and highest floor of the building, having completed his checks and doused the lights, the watchman went to the elevator and hit the ‘call’ button. A red circle lit up around the button and, in his peripherals, the watchman saw Daniel, lurking in the shadows near the stairwell.
“How did you get in here?” He asked, turning toward the boy. “Come on now. I’ll let you out.”
There was a ding and the elevator doors slid open, spilling fluorescent light into the corridor. The watchman stepped into the elevator; into the light. Daniel hesitated for a moment and then followed.
The watchman pushed the button marked ‘G’ as Daniel shuffled in beside him. Nothing happened. Daniel glanced at the watchman who was facing straight ahead. After several seconds of nothing happening, Daniel began to push the ‘door close’ button repeatedly. It felt a bit like playing a computer game, he thought.
“Come on now, son. There’s no need for that,” the watchman said. Daniel withdrew his hand and let it hang loosely at his side. The doors closed. The elevator began to descend.
The pair rode in silence. Daniel was watching the display above the doors as the digital figures counted down.
12…
11…
10…
9…
“I have two children.” The watchman said.
8…
7…
“Two little girls.”
6…
5…
4…
“I’d sure like to go home to them tonight.”
3…
2…
1…
Bing!
The elevator jolted with a thud. The doors opened.
Where there should have been a brightly lit foyer, there was nothing. Only blackness. The watchman walked out of the elevator and into the dark. Daniel hesitated for a moment, then followed.
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