�File the contents of that folder,� her boss said, �and then you�ll be free to leave.�
�Yes,� is all that she muttered as she finished up her computer work. When she finally finished what she was doing, she shut down her computer. She picked up the newly delivered folder and tossed it into the top drawer. She shut off the light, picked up her bag, and walked out of her cubicle.
A big tobacco case had been plaguing the law office for a month, and since it began Robin had worked seventy hours overtime, without any extra pay. There wasn�t a chance that she was going to sift through sheet after sheet of jargon before heading home. She would do it first thing the next morning.
Robin stood in front of the doors on the thirty-first floor and waited for the elevator. She could feel how ruffled her hair was and the heavy weight of bags under her eyes. She looked down at her short chubby body, not liking what she saw. Although she was worn out, her body buzzed from caffeine and the anticipation of getting home to her children. Since the cursed tobacco case, she had seen very little of her kids and she yearned for every moment she could get with them.
The doors opened with a ding and Robin entered the empty elevator. The doors closed as she hit the ground floor button. It was a fair-sized elevator of imitation cedar paneling with a mirrored ceiling. It smelled of office: stale air, cigarettes, coffee and perspiration. Robin searched through her bag looking for some gum as the elevator came to a stop. When she glanced up she saw that they were on the seventeenth floor. The doors parted and two business-type men entered the car in mid-conversation.
�Buddy.� The older looking of the two men said, �This is a very important case. No screwing around.� They walked in and the older man reached over and pressed the ground floor button, even though it was already lit up from when Robin pushed it.
�Don�t worry about it, Mr. McLachlan,� Buddy said, �he�s a reliable witness.�
Buddy and Mr. McLachlan stood with their hands folded in front of them, away from Robin. Both had set their briefcases next to their feet and they were looking at the numbers of the floors as they descended. They were well-trained elevator passengers.
�So, how�s you wife?� McLachlan asked.
Buddy let out a breath and shook his head. �Do you always have to bring her up? She just called to see when I was coming home.� He shook his head again; he seemed to be accustomed to doing that when talking about her. �She just did her nails and couldn�t put the lasagna in the oven. She said she was afraid her nails would break, and now she�s hungry.� Buddy shook his head again and this time added in a roll of the eyes.
�I don�t know about that woman,� McLachlan said. �Seems to me like you haven�t been keeping her in check.�
Buddy whipped his head in the direction of McLachlan. He seemed on the verge of berating the older man, but the elevator came to a sudden stop and the lights went out. A little yelp escaped Buddy�s lips. The battery-run emergency light came on and shed a dim orange light. McLachlan was at the elevator�s control panel, pressing all the buttons.
�What happened?� Robin asked him.
He stopped pushing buttons and looked at her. �Hell if I know. I�m not elevator repair man.�
A couple of moments of panic passed when the prisoners of the elevator desperately tried to escape. Buddy tried the doors, but they wouldn�t budge. McLachlan continued with the buttons, but since they power was apparently out they were no good. They all tried their cell phones and got the same result: no reception. Robin looked up for the infamous trap door; all she saw was her own reflection.
After they had exhausted all possibilities, the three waited in silence. Buddy sat on the floor with his back to the fake cedar wall. His hands covered his eyes; he seemed to be in deep thought, or maybe asleep. McLachlan had opened his briefcase and was rummaging through papers. He appeared not to notice that they were trapped in an elevator.
Robin inspected the inside of the elevator, looking for an alternate means of escape and noticed that the elevator seemed smaller than when she had first entered it. It might have been because there were more people in it now, or maybe because the orange light made it appear smaller. Most likely it was because she was scared and knew that she was hanging from a cable a good hundred feet above the hard ground.
She surveyed their confinement again, trying to keep her mind off the ground below. Buddy was still covering his face with his hands. He reminded Robin of the bookends she had at home. They were three monkeys covering parts of their faces, Buddy reminded her of the one covering his eyes. See no evil. She glanced toward Mr. McLachlan. The orange light of the elevator made his face look almost crazed. His eyes darted across pages of paper like a hawk searching a field for a rodent.
She finally tired of looking for way out of the hanging death trap and slumped to the floor. She leaned her head against the elevator wall and shut her eyes. She thought that closing her eyes would make the closeness of the elevator go away, but it didn�t. It was the air. It was stuffy, almost suffocating. Even with her eyes close she could feel how small of an area the elevator was.
She could also tell that the men felt it too. Buddy was shuffling his feet frequently and he huffed every now and again. The slow rhythmic flap of pages turning in Mr. McLachlan�s hands had quickened to a slap. She knew that they were getting restless, as she was too.
Listening to the men�s rhythmic music, Robin began to doze off. When she came to, she wasn�t sure how long she had been out. Waking up she had been in a daze, unsure of where she was. When it all came back to her she had the feeling that she had both been asleep for hours and that it had only been moments. Looking around she found things much the same as they were before. Buddy was still in the same position, but McLachlan had grown tired of balancing his briefcase while standing, and was now sitting in the corner opposite Robin.
�Have a nice nap?� he said without looking up from his papers.
She paused for a moment, considering snapping back, but decided against it. �Since it seems like we�re going to be here for a while, let�s get to know one another. I�m Robin Franklin, I work on the thirty-first floor.�
Buddy looked up from his hands and offered a nod to Robin. McLachlan look up from his papers and took in the woman. �I�m George McLachlan of Lewis, Parker and McLachlan.� He stressed his own name, making sure that she understood that he was the McLachlan in the firm�s name, like it might be hard for a simpleton like herself to understand. �This is Buddy Dane,� �pointing to the sitting man- �my most esteemed lawyer.�
�Well, it�s nice to meet you both,� Robin said, �I only wish that we had met on less disastrous terms.�
�That�s nice, Rhonda-� McLachlan began.
�It�s Robin.�
�Robin,� he corrected. �But as you can see I�m a very busy man and I would really like to get back to my work.�
Robin was shocked, but McLachlan didn�t notice because he was deep into his paperwork again. �How can you act like being stuck in an elevator is a normal thing?�
�Really, Robin.� He looked up from his papers. �I have a lot of work. Do leave me alone.�
Robin huffed in defeat and did as he asked. She scooted over closer to Buddy. �I hope this doesn�t take too long,� she said, �I really need to get home to my daughter and son.�
�Yes,� Buddy said, �at this moment my wife is going hungry and if I don�t get home she�s likely to starve.�
�Hopefully to death,� McLachlan muttered. He was still absorbed in his work, but seemed to be paying attention to what was going on around him.
Buddy glared at him with a reddening face. He considered saying something in response, but ended up staying quiet. Since McLachlan was his boss, he probably wanted to keep his job. After that the strangers sat around quietly for a while, keeping to their own thoughts. Robin grew weary of the silence though, and tried to start a conversation again.
�How about we do something to pass the time?� she asked.
Buddy shrugged, but McLachlan replied without looking up from his cluster of paper. �If you�re suggesting we tell ghost stories, count me out.�
�Good idea,� Robin said, as a story from her childhood came to her. �And why not? There�s a time and place for everything.� There wasn�t any response from the men. �I�ll start then.
�In the summer time I go and visit the island in Maine where my parents grew up. On this island there�s an old house that everyone seems to fear and keep away from. Of course I was interested by it and questioned the man who owns the land it�s on. He told me this story:
�The house is called the Box Cottage. A poor fisherman built it in 1905. It�s called the Box Cottage because the wood he used came from fishing supply crates. The poor fisherman was married to a much younger and very beautiful woman. She was liked very much by the other people in the community, but not by her husband because she turned out to be a nag. When they married he had promised her wealth, wealth that she never saw. She became bitter toward him.�
Robin looked around the elevator and saw that Buddy was paying attention. She looked at McLachlan who suddenly began to write on a piece of paper. He was interested in her story but didn�t want to show it. Robin smiled and went on.
�When the fisherman would come home at night, he�d fix dinner for his wife. Fish chowder, because that�s all he could afford to make. Night after night his wife would ask for steak and baked potatoes, and would get all upset when he told her that they were having fish chowder again.
�She hollered at him a lot and told him how worthless he was. She didn�t realize that he spent every day alone on the ocean so that he could feed her when he got home. She also didn�t realize that his loneliness and her chastising were getting the best of him.
�One night he cracked up and murdered her. She was found days later when a bad smell was discovered coming from the house. He had gutted, skinned and beheaded her like a fish. In the kitchen an enormous pot of fish chowder was discovered on the stove. It was believed that the fisherman was going to cook and eat his wife. But the husband was never found after the murder.
�Anyway,� Robin went on, �the house is so feared by locals because it�s haunted. They say that on foggy nights the wife can be seen walking around the Box Cottage looking for her husband. They say she is headless, her guts drag on the ground, and she has a ripper � which is a kind of knife that fisherman use � in her hand.�
Robin looked around at her little audience. Buddy was nodding his head in approval of the story. McLachlan finally gave in and put his papers back into his briefcase. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Buddy spoke up.
�That was quite a story,� Buddy said.
�Yes it was,� McLachlan agreed. He looked sharply at Buddy, as if his putting his papers away meant that is was his turn to speak and Buddy should have known that. �The wife reminded me of yours, Buddy. You aren�t going to chop her up when you get home and put her in your lasagna are you?�
Buddy ignored the comment with an effort. �I�ll go next,� he said instead. He flashed a dark look at McLachlan and began to speak.
�I�m originally from Montana, and this is a story that is popular around my hometown. There was once a man named George.� Buddy looked up at Mr. McLachlan before going on.
�This man named George owned a bit of land. After a particularly heavy snowstorm had passed through, George was out chopping branches that had fallen in the road. He was having a hell of a time getting his chainsaw started when suddenly he heard a voice behind him. It said, �Hey Mister, have you seen our bikes?� George turned around and saw twin girls standing behind him.�
�Oh, what a coincidence,� McLachlan said.
�Shut your trap,� Buddy remarked, �and let me tell the story.�
Robin looked back and forth between the two men. �Is there something going on here that I don�t understand?� she asked.
�Yes, there is,� McLachlan said. �I have twin daughters at home, and Buddy�s going to be looking for a job if he isn�t careful.�
�May I go on?� Buddy asked, ignoring the threat. When Robin nodded in response, he continued.
�Anyway, George was going to answer their question when from down the road behind him he heard a train whistle. He turned quickly but saw that there was nothing but the empty road and more fallen branches. When he turned back to the girls they were gone without a trace. No footsteps or anything.
�George thought it very queer that the girls had snuck up on him and disappeared without a trace. He thought it even queerer that he had heard a train whistle where there were no trains nearby.
�When he finished cutting wood for the day he went to his home and made a couple of phone calls around. He asked people in the nearby area if they had twin daughters and receive a lot of negatives in return. He finally made a call to a particularly old neighbor and told him what had happened. The old man said he knew of the children. They were called the McLachlan Twins and had been haunting the surrounding area for years.
�You see, many, many years before that day there had been train tracks running where the road was. One day the McLachlan twins were riding their bikes too close to the tracks and got hit by a train and died.
�And that�s my story,� Buddy said.
�Are you trying to make fun of me or something?� McLachlan asked.
�Of course not,� Buddy said, �that�s why I left out the part about the girls being sexually abused by their father and throwing themselves in front of the train on purpose to get away from him.�
McLachlan got to his feet and reached for Buddy. Robin jumped up and stood between the two. All that she could think of was how she wished she had taken those self-defense classes that she passed up.
�Calm down, Mr. McLachlan,� she said, �it was just a story.�
�Get out of my way, Robin.�
�No, I won�t,� she said. �Being stuck in this elevator is getting to us. Why don�t you just sit down and relax. Maybe this story thing was a bad idea.�
McLachlan backed off then and sat back down on his side of the elevator. �No, no,� he said. �These stories are a great idea. As a matter of fact, I have one as well. May I?�
Robin didn�t let her guard down as she sat on her section of the elevator floor again. She looked at the older man and could tell that he was devising something. For some reason she thought it was going to be aimed at her too. It was the look in his eye, like she was the rodent that his hawk eyes were now searching for.
�Sure, �she said, �go right ahead.�
�Now, you said you have some kids, right?� McLachlan asked her. �What are their names?�
�Erin is my son, he�s six, and Sara is my daughter, she�s two.�
�Oh, just perfect,� Mr. McLachlan, �and here�s my story.
�There once was a woman named Robin, who worked for a law firm. Lately things had been busy because of a tobacco lawsuit. She hadn�t been home a lot and her children were constantly being watched by assorted baby-sitters-�
�How do you know so much about me?� Robin interrupted. Her face was pale with disbelief. She ran her hands through her hair, and it stuck up like ruffled feathers.
�You said you work on the thirty-first floor,� McLachlan replied. He gleamed at her with narrow eyes, almost as if he sensed her surprise. �That�s Cartwright and Sons. Everyone in the building knows about their lawsuit.�
�And the babysitters?�
�Earlier you said you needed to get home to your kids. I figured that if Daddy was home you wouldn�t be in such a rush.�
His answers didn�t quench her surprised very much. He may act like little people don�t matter to him. But he was sharp as a snake�s fang.
�Anyway,� McLachlan continued his story, �one night she got home awfully late and the baby-sitter complained and demanded to get paid money that Robin didn�t have. She told the baby-sitter that she would get paid as soon as she had the money, and walked her out the door. Robin took a frozen pizza out of the refrigerator and preheated the oven. Her daughter was crying and screaming and Robin snapped at the poor child. She threatened the baby, telling her that she would get thrown in the oven with the pizza if she didn�t hush. The baby�s name was Sara and she was two years old, but she hushed right up like she had understood her mother.�
Robin�s face was turning red. She glared across the elevator at Mr. McLachlan. He seemed to notice her anger.
�Relax Robin, � he said coolly, �after all, it�s just a story.
�After she put the pizza in the over and set the timer, she told Erin, her son, that she was going to take a quick bath and that she wanted him to knock on the door when the oven beeped.
�She got into the bath and tried to relax a little. It apparently worked well, because soon after a knock on the door woke Robin up. Erin called from the other side of the door, �Mommy, the oven beeped.� She got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a robe.�
The orange light in the elevator no longer felt like a relief, it now cast a more evil illumination to Robin. She would have welcomed darkness at the moment. On top of the color, Robin also noticed that the emergency light was emitting a low buzz. A sound she didn�t like, it reminded her of a swarm of bees.
�When she walked from the bathroom to the kitchen she noticed that something was wrong. The kitchen was full of smoke and there was an awful odor in the air. She ran to the oven and threw it open. What she saw in the oven made her fall to the ground screaming and crying and vomiting. In between her moans she heard her son say, �Sara was crying again, Mommy. So, I put her in the oven like you said.� His voice full of pride for remembering what she said. Her daughter dead by her son�s hands because she put her work before her family and was too tired to give them the attention they needed.�
For a split second, Robin envisioned Mr. McLachlan�s story coming true when she got home. He had hit on her biggest fear, and worst flaw. Anger rose up in her like a rabid beast. She was mad at her boss for making her stay late. She was mad at herself for getting stuck in this damn elevator. And she took it all out on Mr. McLachlan for making her think such dreadful thoughts.
Robin jumped up from the elevator floor and rushed at McLachlan. She wrapped her hands around his neck and shook his head back and forth. He was struggling to get free but couldn�t manage to. Buddy jumped up after a moment of shocked observation and tried to wrench Robin�s hands free. With nothing left to do, Buddy grabbed a hold of Robin�s hair and started to yank. She squawked out in pain.
Robin released McLachlan�s throat. He gave a terrible hiss and fell to the floor gasping for breath. She turned to Buddy. He took a step back when he saw the wild look in her eyes. She ran at him, and he had nowhere to go. Robin was not much of a fighter. Being an office-grunt she didn�t know exactly what she was doing. She ran into buddy and sandwiched him against the elevator�s paneling. Their heads klunked together and they fell to the floor next to McLachlan.
In their struggle, none of them noticed that the elevator lights had brightened. As they were where yanking and choking and scratching at each other, the elevator was once again descending. And, as they struggled on the floor, the elevator finally came to its destination.
There was a ding and the elevator doors opened. The three of them stopped their flopping about the elevator floor like goldfish out of their bowl. Reaching down and finding their last ounce of grace they got to their feet and peered into the lobby of the building.
�Ah-hem,� McLachlan uttered. He fixed his tie, as if that was why his throat hurt, and picked up his briefcase. He exited the elevator and headed for the exit without looking back.
After gathering themselves, Buddy and Robin both exited and went their own ways.