Her footsteps thumped through the hallway unmeasured, but sure with intent. She stumbled into the room panting. Completely out of breath, she tried explaining her message.
“…kindly stop all that you are doing and please exit the building” although her message was clear, her delivery and anxious voice indicated something was amiss.
I lifted my eyes from my furious writing. Her distressed and bewildered demeanor drove panic and everyone started filing out of the room. “Please do not use the elevator, take the stairs”. That last direction heightened panic amongst the crowd; some shoved, others ran. The doubting Thomases of course took their time rising to the occasion.
Of course not everyone follows instructions, at least not when you are 14 floors up. The elevators were jam packed. Enroute to the staircase, one of the elevators opened and without a second thought, I jumped in with the crowd. Big mistake!
The doors of the elevator doors closed, but the expected descent only got two floors down. It surged up and down uncontrollably, thrice. A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. Everyone was deep in panicked thoughts.
Bewildered, we looked for answers in each other’s faces; no one had any. By now, the lift had come to a complete stop in between two floors. Someone pressed the alarm button that links to the control room. A female voice (already aware of our predicament), requested for calmness and assured us that a dispatched team was looking into the issue. This did nothing to calm the agitated group.
Panic
Crazy thoughts raced through my mind. “If only I had taken the stairs. Why, oh why did I get into this lift? Wouldn’t I have been done with the stairs by now? And what was the emergency that necessitated all this? Will we get out? Can we open the hatches in the ceiling; that stuff works in movies, right? Maybe we can try prying the doors open? What if we collectively jump in the elevator, wouldn’t that action wake it from its slight slumber?”
As I have this monologue in my head, around me, everyone else seems to be talking at the same time. In the small room, this sucks the little air above our head. A lady beside me is sweating profusely, she starts to remove her clothing and sinks to the floor. Someone shouts, “This lady has fainted”. With that, paranoia checks in. one lady is talking so fast, and blaming the whole world. A gentleman is talking on phone with his colleague and blaming him for not pushing the maintenance guys to work faster (really, really now?), another is shouting himself hoarse.
My paranoia was a little bit different. I wondered what would happen if someone had to use the bathroom and we had not been rescued yet. I earnestly hoped no one had consumed a plate of kidney beans that morning or yester night….
“Hello!” “Hello!” the booming voice drew me from my trance. Finally, someone was working some magic outside there to get us out. They we two actually. Together, they pried the doors open.
The elevator was stuck between two floors, so there was a concrete slab that prevented our exit. A small space allowed some of us to crawl through. At this point, all traces of decorum had gone with the wind, everyone wants out. One by one, we lifted our stretched hands up to the maintenance crew, grateful for their presence and help.
onyangorachael 