Short Story : Stuck!
Richard tripped as he ran for the elevator, stumbling and barely rescuing his camera equipment from crashing to the ground and smashing into a thousand pieces. If he lost his cameras, that would be the end of his busman’s holiday – a once in a life time trip to New York City! He’d always dreamed of going there and photographing the sights, and now that the UK newspaper he worked for had actually sent him over he was going to make the most of his time there, and get as many landscape photographs as he could. And now that he had a day to himself, he was going to get some skyline shots from one of New York City’s many observation decks.
The elevator doors were slowly closing as he stumbled between them, setting off the sensors and sending the doors slowly opening again. He gasped for breath as he readjusted the straps of his camera bag and stood up straight, facing the doors. Glancing to his left, he caught sight of a frustrated looking young woman. Clearly she was glaring at him for delaying her by a fraction of a minute, but he didn’t care. Choosing to ignore the woman’s stare, he pressed the button for the observation deck and waited for the doors to close.
Once the doors were closed, Richard quickly checked the time on his watch. It was a quarter to nine, so he should have plenty of time to get there before nine and get a sweet spot to set up his camera equipment. He couldn’t wait to see the panoramic view of New York from the top of one of its highest buildings.
As he smiled to himself, he heard a loud thumping noise and the elevator ground to a halt. The lights went out and the red emergency lights came on, flickering slightly as if they were on their last legs.
“What the hell was that?” the woman suddenly spoke up. Richard glanced over at her, seeing her gripping the hand rail with panic.
“Seems like a power cut?” Richard said, “Do you work in this building?”
“Yes,” the woman replied, “and there’ve been power outages before, but nothing that felt like that!”
“I’m sure they’ll have us out in no time at all,” Richard said calmly, “there’s no need to panic.”
“Who’s panicking?” the woman said in a panicky voice.
Richard looked her up and down, “Nobody?” he said flatly.
The woman tutted, then started looking around the elevator like she was trying to find a way out. She was quite pretty, Richard supposed, and her summery dress, though a little unseasonal for September, clung to her figure in all the right places. She turned to the emergency call intercom and started pressing the buttons, but all she got back was static. There was no-one on the other end.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Richard suggested, “We might as well rest our legs while we wait for the power to come back on.”
The woman stared at Richard, then delicately sat herself down on the elevator floor. Richard, in turn, did the same.
“You aren’t from round here, are you?” the woman observed.
Richard chuckled, not quite believing that he’d actually heard an American use that phrase, “No, I’m English,” he said, leaning towards her and offering her hand, “My name’s Richard.”
“Patricia,” the woman said, shaking Richard’s hand, “Pleasure.”
“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” Richard smiled pleasantly.
“No,” Patricia shook her head, “That’s my name – Patricia Pleasure.”
Richard bit his lip, trying not to laugh, “Is that your real name?”
“I know, right?” Patricia rolled her eyes, “I like to get telling it to people out of the way as soon as possible, that way it doesn’t come as a surprise later. It would have been bad enough growing up with the surname Pleasure without my parents giving me an alliterative first name to go with it.”
“You think that’s bad?” Richard shook his head, “My surname is Tracy.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Patricia looked confused, “Richard Tracy sounds okay.”
“Not if you shorten Richard to Dick,” Richard said.
Patricia mulled this over in her head, then realised what Richard was getting at, “Dick Tracy? Like the Warren Beatty movie?”
“Yep,” Richard smiled, “And the comic books before that!”
“That must have been rough,” Patricia commented.
“Not as rough as being Ms Pleasure,” Richard laughed.
“Some people used to call me Trixie for short,” Patricia noted.
Richard burst out laughing, “Trixie Pleasure?” he said between guffaws.
“Stop it,” Patricia said, but she couldn’t help smiling.
“So,” Richard said after he’d stopped laughing, “What do you do for a living, Trixie Pleasure?”
“I work for a bank,” Patricia told him, “pretty boring stuff, really. And stop calling me Trixie, Dick.”
“Sorry,” Richard apologised.
“What about you?” Patricia asked, “What brings you to New York City?”
“Work mainly,” Richard told her, “I’m a photographer for a newspaper. I’ve been here on business, but today I thought I’d get up early and take in the views. Maybe get some nice shots to blow up and put on my wall at home.”
“Sounds nice,” Patricia smiled, “What about your wife? Is she still at home with the kids?”
“Oh, I’m not married,” Richard smiled, showing her his ring-free fingers.
“Me either,” Patricia smiled back.
“Now, how can you still be single?” Richard asked, purposely oozing with charm.
“Probably because lesbianism is still frowned upon,” Patricia replied.
If Richard had have been drinking, he’d have done a spit take, “Come again?” he stammered.
“I’m kidding,” Patricia chuckled, then shrugged, “I guess I’m single because I never met the right guy,” she told him.
“That’s a shame,” Richard said, “about the lesbianism. I could have got right into that.”
“Oh, shut up,” Patricia smiled, punching Richard gently on the arm.
As she did so, there was another loud booming noise, this one sounding even closer.
“What the hell was that?” Patricia shouted, moving closer to Richard.
“Search me,” Richard said, looking at his watch. It was almost five past nine – they’d been trapped in the elevator for twenty minutes.
“Maybe it was the fire crew breaking into the elevator shaft,” Patricia suggested, then added, “God, I hope so.”
Richard looked at Patricia, taking her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. As he did so, the red emergency lights suddenly went out, plunging the two of them into darkness.
Patricia started crying in the darkness, and Richard could feel her shaking as she gripped his hand tighter.
“It’s okay,” Richard told her, “have you got a phone? We can use the light from it to see.”
“The battery’s almost dead,” Patricia said, fumbling blindly in her bag, “I usually leave charging it until I get to work.”
Richard waited to see if Patricia’s phone light would come on. He didn’t have a phone with him; it didn’t work in the USA in any case, so he only kept it in his hotel room for looking up contact numbers and the like. As he wondered if he’d ever see anything again, a faint light came on, and he could see Patricia’s dimly lit face staring back at him in the darkness.
“The battery only has one bar,” she told Richard, “I don’t know how long the light will last.”
“That’s okay,” Richard told her, “if that was the fire service, I’m sure they’ll have us out of here in no time.”
Patricia nodded in agreement, but Richard didn’t think she looked too convinced.
“So,” Richard began, trying to think of something to take Patricia’s mind off their current situation, “What do you do in your spare time?”
“You mean other than getting trapped in elevators?” Patricia quipped.
Richard shrugged, “Yeah.”
Patricia smiled in the dim light from her phone, “Not much, really,” she admitted, “I guess I just work, go home, and go to bed.”
“Sounds like fun to me,” Richard smiled.
“I watch movies, if that’s the sort of thing you mean,” Patricia volunteered.
Richard perked up, “What kind of movies?” he asked.
A loud creak from above their heads tore Patricia’s attention away from the conversation. After a little while she answered, “Does it matter?”
Richard tilted his head, “I just thought that maybe we could catch a movie together after this, maybe go on a date tonight, if you like?”
Patricia started to chuckled a little, but there was no energy behind it, “Are you honestly trying to pick me up?” she asked.
Richard shrugged, “What better place to pick up girls than in a stuck lift?” he asked.
Patricia smiled, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to go on a date,” she said, “And I still haven’t seen Captain Corelli’s Mandolin.”
Richard pulled a face, Yuck! That looks like such a chick-flick!”
Patricia smiled, “You should just be grateful of my company, Dicky.”
Richard smiled, “Hey, I just noticed – together we could be Tricky Dicky!”
Patricia shuddered, “Oh, can you imagine? We’d make such a sickening couple. Wearing matching shirts and collectively calling ourselves Tricky Dicky! People would hate us.”
“I dunno,” Richard shrugged, “It might be nice.”
Patricia smiled and rested her head on Richard’s shoulder, “I hope they get us out soon,” she said.
“Not too soon,” Richard smiled, stroking her hair.
As the two relaxed into each other’s arms, a crackle came from the emergency intercom.
“Hello?” a voice spoke, “Is anyone in there?”
Patricia jumped to her feet, “Yes!” she shouted, pressing the speak button, “We’re trapped in here. How long until you can get us out?”
There was a silent pause, then the voice spoke again, “We’re not in the building,” the voice said. “The power went off when the first plane hit the North tower—“
“Plane?” Richard repeated, “What are you talking about?”
There was another pause, then the voice said, “A number of planes have been hijacked by terrorists. As I said, one hit the North tower, and a little while ago another flew into the South tower – the tower you’re in.”
“So, can you get us out?” Patricia asked, her voice shaking.
After another pause. The voice spoke again, quivering slightly, “We’re doing everything we can.”
Then the intercom fell silent.
Patricia looked at Richard, “Can they get us out?” she asked him, sitting back down on the floor of the elevator.
Richard stared blankly for a moment, then smiled as best he could.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he said, though not believing it himself, “Anyway, they have to get us out of here. Otherwise I can’t take you on that date, can I?”
Patricia cheered a little, looking at Richard in the dim light that emanated from her cell phone. She nuzzled in next to Richard again, and sighed, “What time is it?” she asked.
Richard looked dimly at the screen of Patricia’s cell phone, choosing not to bother with his watch, “Almost ten o’clock,” he told her.
“I’m almost an hour late for work,” she smiled, “My bosses are going to kill me.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Richard told her, and the two of them relaxed into each other’s arms, waiting for whatever would come next...
Originally Posted 13/7/2015
Result - Joint 3rd Place
The elevator doors were slowly closing as he stumbled between them, setting off the sensors and sending the doors slowly opening again. He gasped for breath as he readjusted the straps of his camera bag and stood up straight, facing the doors. Glancing to his left, he caught sight of a frustrated looking young woman. Clearly she was glaring at him for delaying her by a fraction of a minute, but he didn’t care. Choosing to ignore the woman’s stare, he pressed the button for the observation deck and waited for the doors to close.
Once the doors were closed, Richard quickly checked the time on his watch. It was a quarter to nine, so he should have plenty of time to get there before nine and get a sweet spot to set up his camera equipment. He couldn’t wait to see the panoramic view of New York from the top of one of its highest buildings.
As he smiled to himself, he heard a loud thumping noise and the elevator ground to a halt. The lights went out and the red emergency lights came on, flickering slightly as if they were on their last legs.
“What the hell was that?” the woman suddenly spoke up. Richard glanced over at her, seeing her gripping the hand rail with panic.
“Seems like a power cut?” Richard said, “Do you work in this building?”
“Yes,” the woman replied, “and there’ve been power outages before, but nothing that felt like that!”
“I’m sure they’ll have us out in no time at all,” Richard said calmly, “there’s no need to panic.”
“Who’s panicking?” the woman said in a panicky voice.
Richard looked her up and down, “Nobody?” he said flatly.
The woman tutted, then started looking around the elevator like she was trying to find a way out. She was quite pretty, Richard supposed, and her summery dress, though a little unseasonal for September, clung to her figure in all the right places. She turned to the emergency call intercom and started pressing the buttons, but all she got back was static. There was no-one on the other end.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Richard suggested, “We might as well rest our legs while we wait for the power to come back on.”
The woman stared at Richard, then delicately sat herself down on the elevator floor. Richard, in turn, did the same.
“You aren’t from round here, are you?” the woman observed.
Richard chuckled, not quite believing that he’d actually heard an American use that phrase, “No, I’m English,” he said, leaning towards her and offering her hand, “My name’s Richard.”
“Patricia,” the woman said, shaking Richard’s hand, “Pleasure.”
“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” Richard smiled pleasantly.
“No,” Patricia shook her head, “That’s my name – Patricia Pleasure.”
Richard bit his lip, trying not to laugh, “Is that your real name?”
“I know, right?” Patricia rolled her eyes, “I like to get telling it to people out of the way as soon as possible, that way it doesn’t come as a surprise later. It would have been bad enough growing up with the surname Pleasure without my parents giving me an alliterative first name to go with it.”
“You think that’s bad?” Richard shook his head, “My surname is Tracy.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Patricia looked confused, “Richard Tracy sounds okay.”
“Not if you shorten Richard to Dick,” Richard said.
Patricia mulled this over in her head, then realised what Richard was getting at, “Dick Tracy? Like the Warren Beatty movie?”
“Yep,” Richard smiled, “And the comic books before that!”
“That must have been rough,” Patricia commented.
“Not as rough as being Ms Pleasure,” Richard laughed.
“Some people used to call me Trixie for short,” Patricia noted.
Richard burst out laughing, “Trixie Pleasure?” he said between guffaws.
“Stop it,” Patricia said, but she couldn’t help smiling.
“So,” Richard said after he’d stopped laughing, “What do you do for a living, Trixie Pleasure?”
“I work for a bank,” Patricia told him, “pretty boring stuff, really. And stop calling me Trixie, Dick.”
“Sorry,” Richard apologised.
“What about you?” Patricia asked, “What brings you to New York City?”
“Work mainly,” Richard told her, “I’m a photographer for a newspaper. I’ve been here on business, but today I thought I’d get up early and take in the views. Maybe get some nice shots to blow up and put on my wall at home.”
“Sounds nice,” Patricia smiled, “What about your wife? Is she still at home with the kids?”
“Oh, I’m not married,” Richard smiled, showing her his ring-free fingers.
“Me either,” Patricia smiled back.
“Now, how can you still be single?” Richard asked, purposely oozing with charm.
“Probably because lesbianism is still frowned upon,” Patricia replied.
If Richard had have been drinking, he’d have done a spit take, “Come again?” he stammered.
“I’m kidding,” Patricia chuckled, then shrugged, “I guess I’m single because I never met the right guy,” she told him.
“That’s a shame,” Richard said, “about the lesbianism. I could have got right into that.”
“Oh, shut up,” Patricia smiled, punching Richard gently on the arm.
As she did so, there was another loud booming noise, this one sounding even closer.
“What the hell was that?” Patricia shouted, moving closer to Richard.
“Search me,” Richard said, looking at his watch. It was almost five past nine – they’d been trapped in the elevator for twenty minutes.
“Maybe it was the fire crew breaking into the elevator shaft,” Patricia suggested, then added, “God, I hope so.”
Richard looked at Patricia, taking her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. As he did so, the red emergency lights suddenly went out, plunging the two of them into darkness.
Patricia started crying in the darkness, and Richard could feel her shaking as she gripped his hand tighter.
“It’s okay,” Richard told her, “have you got a phone? We can use the light from it to see.”
“The battery’s almost dead,” Patricia said, fumbling blindly in her bag, “I usually leave charging it until I get to work.”
Richard waited to see if Patricia’s phone light would come on. He didn’t have a phone with him; it didn’t work in the USA in any case, so he only kept it in his hotel room for looking up contact numbers and the like. As he wondered if he’d ever see anything again, a faint light came on, and he could see Patricia’s dimly lit face staring back at him in the darkness.
“The battery only has one bar,” she told Richard, “I don’t know how long the light will last.”
“That’s okay,” Richard told her, “if that was the fire service, I’m sure they’ll have us out of here in no time.”
Patricia nodded in agreement, but Richard didn’t think she looked too convinced.
“So,” Richard began, trying to think of something to take Patricia’s mind off their current situation, “What do you do in your spare time?”
“You mean other than getting trapped in elevators?” Patricia quipped.
Richard shrugged, “Yeah.”
Patricia smiled in the dim light from her phone, “Not much, really,” she admitted, “I guess I just work, go home, and go to bed.”
“Sounds like fun to me,” Richard smiled.
“I watch movies, if that’s the sort of thing you mean,” Patricia volunteered.
Richard perked up, “What kind of movies?” he asked.
A loud creak from above their heads tore Patricia’s attention away from the conversation. After a little while she answered, “Does it matter?”
Richard tilted his head, “I just thought that maybe we could catch a movie together after this, maybe go on a date tonight, if you like?”
Patricia started to chuckled a little, but there was no energy behind it, “Are you honestly trying to pick me up?” she asked.
Richard shrugged, “What better place to pick up girls than in a stuck lift?” he asked.
Patricia smiled, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to go on a date,” she said, “And I still haven’t seen Captain Corelli’s Mandolin.”
Richard pulled a face, Yuck! That looks like such a chick-flick!”
Patricia smiled, “You should just be grateful of my company, Dicky.”
Richard smiled, “Hey, I just noticed – together we could be Tricky Dicky!”
Patricia shuddered, “Oh, can you imagine? We’d make such a sickening couple. Wearing matching shirts and collectively calling ourselves Tricky Dicky! People would hate us.”
“I dunno,” Richard shrugged, “It might be nice.”
Patricia smiled and rested her head on Richard’s shoulder, “I hope they get us out soon,” she said.
“Not too soon,” Richard smiled, stroking her hair.
As the two relaxed into each other’s arms, a crackle came from the emergency intercom.
“Hello?” a voice spoke, “Is anyone in there?”
Patricia jumped to her feet, “Yes!” she shouted, pressing the speak button, “We’re trapped in here. How long until you can get us out?”
There was a silent pause, then the voice spoke again, “We’re not in the building,” the voice said. “The power went off when the first plane hit the North tower—“
“Plane?” Richard repeated, “What are you talking about?”
There was another pause, then the voice said, “A number of planes have been hijacked by terrorists. As I said, one hit the North tower, and a little while ago another flew into the South tower – the tower you’re in.”
“So, can you get us out?” Patricia asked, her voice shaking.
After another pause. The voice spoke again, quivering slightly, “We’re doing everything we can.”
Then the intercom fell silent.
Patricia looked at Richard, “Can they get us out?” she asked him, sitting back down on the floor of the elevator.
Richard stared blankly for a moment, then smiled as best he could.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he said, though not believing it himself, “Anyway, they have to get us out of here. Otherwise I can’t take you on that date, can I?”
Patricia cheered a little, looking at Richard in the dim light that emanated from her cell phone. She nuzzled in next to Richard again, and sighed, “What time is it?” she asked.
Richard looked dimly at the screen of Patricia’s cell phone, choosing not to bother with his watch, “Almost ten o’clock,” he told her.
“I’m almost an hour late for work,” she smiled, “My bosses are going to kill me.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Richard told her, and the two of them relaxed into each other’s arms, waiting for whatever would come next...
Originally Posted 13/7/2015
Result - Joint 3rd Place
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