L’appel Du Vide

The worst day of my life was a Wednesday, a day like any other day. The station I tuned to every morning crackled through the portable radio speakers while I chewed my toast and poured my coffee into a travel mug. I had a whole cabinet full of them, but I always used the same one. It was the easiest to sip from, and dishwasher safe. I buttoned my collar and tucked the back of my shirt deep into my dress pants.

I took the same route to work, sat in the same traffic jam, and parked in the same spot in the lot of my work building. When the elevator doors open, I took a step in and stood in the same spot as the day before that, and the day before that. The paint on the floor had faded where my shoes had spent year after year. I stared up at the emergency box while the elevator crept up to the floor in which I spent 50 hours a week.

The doors opened to the same fluorescent prison cell, lined with burlap covered cubicles and duct taped swivel chairs. The white noise machine hummed just loud enough to mask the murmur of employees on their phones and typing on their keyboards. No one looked up from their screens as I walked by to get to my cubicle which had been moved to the back corner. It had been there for about a year now, but no one seemed to notice.

I reached my desk and set down my coffee. Besides a Meal-of-the-Month calendar, there was nothing hung to decorate. White walls, white desk, blank screen. I turned my computer on and walked to the water cooler by the window. I put my forehead to the glass and looked down. Eleven stories up is a separate world from rational thinking and the call of the void.

I took a plastic cup from the stack pushed the blue nozzle to fill it. Blue was supposed to indicate cold water, but it was room temperature at best. I took it back to my desk and began typing away like the rest of the drones.

The hours crept by and some cheering from the conference room called my attention to my clock. It was 11:30 and my stomach began to tighten. I ignored it. Cheering still echoed from the conference room, so I turned to see no one was at their desks anymore. I pushed my chair back and leaned my head into the walk way to see that everyone had gathered in the conference room to eat cake and celebrate a birthday. I didn’t get the email about that. I hadn’t gotten an email or memo for any kind of celebration since they moved me to the back corner.

My cheeks felt flush. I tried to turn back to my work but couldn’t focus my mind back to my daily tasks. I took the final sip of my coffee and strode past the party to the elevator doors. Instead of pressing down, I pressed up. All the way up. To the roof.

It was a short ride. The elevator opened up to a concrete colored room with a door hooked to an alarm. I pulled the wire out of the alarm so it wouldn’t sound and opened the door. The wind ripped at it and tried to pry it from its hinges. I grasped the handle and wrestled it back. I closed it behind me and took gentle steps towards the sounds of the city below. There was about three feet of concrete ledge to keep people like me in. There was nothing but sky above. I put my hands on the ledge and looked over.

Cars and people rushed passed each other, dodging one another. It was a circus of colors and noise, but no one looked up to enjoy the show. I watched the pattern of the people and cars and cabs and busses. What would happen if I slid off the ledge and into the circus? Would I fall onto a car, or just hit the street, or maybe another person? How long would it take to reach the bottom? Would anyone from inside realize I was gone?

I took a deep breath and checked my watch. I had been starting into the void for far too long. I turned and went back to the door. I reached for the handle and twisted but it did not turn. I shook it. It did not budge. I pulled up my shoulders and let out a great sigh. I grabbed the handle once more and put as much force as possible into my wrenching and pulling. The handle wiggled and mocked me and my stupidity. I walked back to the ledge.

I could jump. I looked down at the circus. I could wait. I looked over my shoulder at the door. Those were my options, so I sat on the ledge and watched the circus. I watched a young woman stroll into the street, unaware of her surroundings. I saw the taxi that came within inches of running her down. I saw a man trip over the laces of his sneakers, then look around to check if anyone had noticed. I watched countless people go through the doors of the various buildings surrounding me. I watched hundreds of other lives; lives that meant something to more than just the one living in them.

I began to sweat and found shade beside the air conditioning unit in the center of the rooftop. I leaned my head against the huge metal housing and closed my eyes. Images began to dance in my mind; of the circus below, of the party in the conference room, of my absolute invisibility.

My boss would notice my absence. He would ask me how I could be so stupid, what possessed me to go to the roof in the first place. Could I manage to explain my need to stare into the void? He wouldn’t understand and he would fire me. The storm would begin to brew there and escalate into a terrible and broken existence.

My eyes snapped open to find the sun dipping below the city skyline and a man in coveralls standing over me.

“Hey man. What are you doing up here?” The man brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes and offered me his other hand to help me to my feet.

“I got locked up here when the door closed behind me.” I brushed the dirt from my pants and straightened my shirt.

“Oh man! That sucks, dude.” He assured me, in his surfer-dude tone that he had the door propped open and I was welcome to let myself back into the building. I did just that and thanked him.

“No problem, dude!” He waved at me and went back to the air conditioning unit.

I leaned on the railing of the elevator and made my way back to my desk. The office was still half lit in the miserable fluorescent glow. My computer had timed out and shut itself down so I just grabbed my coffee mug and my keys and turned for the elevator again. I passed the conference room to see my boss with the table covered in papers. He was organizing something, so I tried to slip by unnoticed but he looked up just in time to see my heels pass.

I sped up to get to the elevators, but I couldn’t move fast enough to outrun my own misfortune.

“Hey!” He called after me, like he was trying to recall my name but couldn’t. I stopped but didn’t turn around. He circled around me and surprise replaced his look of confusion.

“Oh! It’s you. What are you still doing here?” He didn’t remember my name.

“I’m sorry sir. I just…”

“Hard worker! That’s great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He patted my shoulder and turned to return to his mindless filing. I had worked for him for a month shy of ten years and he didn’t know my name. I had been moved against my will and missed an entire day while stuck on the roof and he didn’t even notice. No one noticed as it wasn’t brought to his attention.

I rode the elevator down to the car, wondering how it would feel if the cable snapped and it became an uncontrollable metal coffin. I drove my car home and wondered what would happen if I took a sharp swerve into oncoming traffic. The worst day of my life was spent staring into the void, into the circus, and realizing my own invisibility.