face my fear of elevators every day,” the elevator operator said. “Sometimes I do get alittle afraid, a little jangled nervousness about life, and at those moments, I eat a Twinkie or something, and that makes me feel safe and warm.”
“Faced your fears! Ha! Can’t even take a woman to the Laundromat!”
“I’m not taking you anywhere with that extra load! And that’s final!” the elevator operator barked, and then he lowered his voice. “No can do!” He hit a button on the panel and the door hesitated long enough for Mrs. Hershbaum to show her displeasure with a grimace. The doors slid shut. Mrs. Hershbaum and her basket of laundry on wheels disappeared.
“We’ve come by invitation,” Howard repeated nervously, looking at the dirt all around them. He had never been fond of oddness. “Does that mean anything?”
The elevator operator pulled a clipboard out from under his arm. “Name please!” Again, it seemed like he wanted Fern and Howard to name him instead of telling him their names. But they got the gist this time.
“Fern,” Fern said.
“Howard,” Howard said.
“Mmhm!” he said. He ran his finger down a list, paused, continued, paused, continued.
They could now make out the sound of shoes clipping around overhead. Howard whispered, “Hurry, hurry,” under his breath.
Finally, the elevator operator shouted, “Six-oh-one!”
He pressed one of the unmarked buttons in a huge panel of unmarked buttons. Nothing happened. The music plinked on overhead. Howard and Fern shot each other anxious glances. They could hear Mr. Drudger stomping on the floor somewhere above them, saying, “Let’s go about this logically. They can’t be far away! They disappeared in this area.”
“I wouldn’t fool around there, Mr. Drudger,” Dorathea was warning.
The Bone was calling, “Fern! Howard!”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Howard said, looking up. “How could they be there?”
The footsteps grew louder. Mrs. Drudger’s voice was clear and close. “What’s this, right here, in the spot where that thing shrunk and disappeared? Isn’t it a latch?” There was some clicking. The hatch inside of the elevator jiggled.
The elevator operator wasn’t flustered by the voices or by the latch or by the elevator’s lack of motion. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes, yes!” Fern said. “What are you waiting for?”
“Just go!” Howard said.
“Is this your first time? I’ll need to read a waiver. This isn’t your ordinary elevator,” he warned. “It’s also a descendavator.”
“Of course,” Howard said. “All elevators are also descendavators! Just go!”
The latch was still twisting overhead.
“It’s also a diagonavator, horizontavator, rapidavator, vamoosavator.”
“You made that last one up!” Howard shouted.
“I did not! I’m union! I’m up to code! Do you see this letter here from the elevator inspector?” The letter was framed in glass. “I run a tight ship!”
“Okay!” Howard said. “You run a tight ship! We’re ready! Okay! So run it!”
“And you?” He looked at Fern.
Fern was staring at the hatch. “Ready!” she said.
The elevator operator calmly recited: “Keep all arms and legs inside of the elevator at all times. No screaming, yelling, or mocking of your elevator operator, who may be pushing his weight.”
It was obvious he’d added this last line himself, but Fern didn’t draw attention to it.
“That’s all fine,” Fern said.
“Yes, yes! We get it!” Howard cried.
The elevator operator smiled, just briefly. “Giddyap now, Charlie Horse!” he said. “Giddyap!”
Just at that moment, the overhead hatch opened. Mrs. Drudger’s bland face appeared in the frame, the pale blue of the bedroom ceiling behind her like she wasset against the sky.
“Oh, my!” she said.
And as the elevator (descendavator, diagonavator, horizontavator, rapidavator, vamoosavator) shot down with a violent burst of speed, the elevator operator’s
“Faced your fears! Ha! Can’t even take a woman to the Laundromat!”
“I’m not taking you anywhere with that extra load! And that’s final!” the elevator operator barked, and then he lowered his voice. “No can do!” He hit a button on the panel and the door hesitated long enough for Mrs. Hershbaum to show her displeasure with a grimace. The doors slid shut. Mrs. Hershbaum and her basket of laundry on wheels disappeared.
“We’ve come by invitation,” Howard repeated nervously, looking at the dirt all around them. He had never been fond of oddness. “Does that mean anything?”
The elevator operator pulled a clipboard out from under his arm. “Name please!” Again, it seemed like he wanted Fern and Howard to name him instead of telling him their names. But they got the gist this time.
“Fern,” Fern said.
“Howard,” Howard said.
“Mmhm!” he said. He ran his finger down a list, paused, continued, paused, continued.
They could now make out the sound of shoes clipping around overhead. Howard whispered, “Hurry, hurry,” under his breath.
Finally, the elevator operator shouted, “Six-oh-one!”
He pressed one of the unmarked buttons in a huge panel of unmarked buttons. Nothing happened. The music plinked on overhead. Howard and Fern shot each other anxious glances. They could hear Mr. Drudger stomping on the floor somewhere above them, saying, “Let’s go about this logically. They can’t be far away! They disappeared in this area.”
“I wouldn’t fool around there, Mr. Drudger,” Dorathea was warning.
The Bone was calling, “Fern! Howard!”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Howard said, looking up. “How could they be there?”
The footsteps grew louder. Mrs. Drudger’s voice was clear and close. “What’s this, right here, in the spot where that thing shrunk and disappeared? Isn’t it a latch?” There was some clicking. The hatch inside of the elevator jiggled.
The elevator operator wasn’t flustered by the voices or by the latch or by the elevator’s lack of motion. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes, yes!” Fern said. “What are you waiting for?”
“Just go!” Howard said.
“Is this your first time? I’ll need to read a waiver. This isn’t your ordinary elevator,” he warned. “It’s also a descendavator.”
“Of course,” Howard said. “All elevators are also descendavators! Just go!”
The latch was still twisting overhead.
“It’s also a diagonavator, horizontavator, rapidavator, vamoosavator.”
“You made that last one up!” Howard shouted.
“I did not! I’m union! I’m up to code! Do you see this letter here from the elevator inspector?” The letter was framed in glass. “I run a tight ship!”
“Okay!” Howard said. “You run a tight ship! We’re ready! Okay! So run it!”
“And you?” He looked at Fern.
Fern was staring at the hatch. “Ready!” she said.
The elevator operator calmly recited: “Keep all arms and legs inside of the elevator at all times. No screaming, yelling, or mocking of your elevator operator, who may be pushing his weight.”
It was obvious he’d added this last line himself, but Fern didn’t draw attention to it.
“That’s all fine,” Fern said.
“Yes, yes! We get it!” Howard cried.
The elevator operator smiled, just briefly. “Giddyap now, Charlie Horse!” he said. “Giddyap!”
Just at that moment, the overhead hatch opened. Mrs. Drudger’s bland face appeared in the frame, the pale blue of the bedroom ceiling behind her like she wasset against the sky.
“Oh, my!” she said.
And as the elevator (descendavator, diagonavator, horizontavator, rapidavator, vamoosavator) shot down with a violent burst of speed, the elevator operator’s
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