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Elevator
- Wesleyan University Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
83 ELEVATOR Lowerfloor.Andit’sallabout standingthereatabusstopwithmaybe myfidgetybrother,yearsbefore oralone,yearsofnocar,whenliving inacitymeantpatience,repeatedly lookingupthestreet.Withoutmetaphornow, I’mhere,onthelinoleum ofthegreatuniversity,lookingup atnumbersgoingred andascending.Andthatsound—windtunnel inthewall,thisthingofverticalpassage betweenrealms,betweenwhereIam andwhereImust,betweenhereandupthere onanotherfloorwherepeople openenvelopesrightintothetrash, noddingIknowexactlywhat youmean,peoplemeaningtotell aroomfulthatHenryJameswasagenius oftheedgycompoundsentence,ditto JaneAustenofthosebig houses,lowfireinthegrate lost,afterthefact,occasional tickertapefloatinglightlytoearth ontheEnglishcountryside. Thirdfloor.Fourth.Everystop stopstothebuzzofafakefloor flushtotherealfloorrooted ongirders,thedooropeningtodisgorge— todisrobe,mybrothermighthavesaid.Entry intothenextworldforwhateverstalwart travelerscomesofarorsoslightly, straightuporstraightdown.Andnowit’s down.It’scomingdownslow andslowly.Ihavetime. Icanleanmyforehead againstthecoolmetal:this 84 blip,sweetriffoffthemainmusic, arteriesandveins inthatdarkness,rush andpullofsomethingsavedfrom must-I-live-forever-on-this-floor? Thickropeywireswithnever enoughgivetomovewithoutbolting,thisstart andstopthatwillbelegendoneday:thereoncewas athingcalledanelevator.Andtheodd graphiconthecomputerscreen willshowafewstrangerscrowding thesmallestroom inthebuilding,lookingstraightahead, shufflingsidewaystomakespace fortheyoungwoman,theexhausted babyinherarms,childwho crieswithsuchspirit.Ihearitnow,myear againstthecloseddoors,something unearthly,nothumanyet, filteringdowntheshaft,distant suchweeping,thewaystars aremuffledoncloudynights thenrevealthemselves,barely, whotheywere somanylightyearsago. ...