What are the
Odds?
by Marian Brooks
There are 120
billion elevator rides in this country per year.
I took two of them just yesterday. If you travel
in one of the 600,000 elevators in the US on a
daily basis, you can count on being trapped in
one during your lifetime. It’s more likely
to happen than being hit by lightening or
consumed by a shark. Frankly, I’d prefer it.
My grand
children and I had just returned from the movie, Wrecker
Ralph. Anna, aged seven, was
“starving” and Ethan, eleven, had to go
to the bathroom “urgently.”
At 4:15
PM Ethan, Anna and I boarded Elevator No. 2 for
the tenth floor. The children jumped and rocked a
little, as children do. The elevator stopped with
a tilt and a shudder and refused to move past the
fifth floor. Both children looked at me to
see if they should be frightened. I covered my
own anxiety with a brave face and pressed the
Help Button. No one answered for five
minutes. Finally there was a voice from the guard
saying once he figured out what to do, he’d
get us out. He couldn’t find the key or the
reset button for the elevator. My confidence was
ebbing. After several attempts, I was able to get
my husband on his cell phone and instructed
him to “do something.” He said,
"I'll see you when you get out." The
next message came from the guard who informed us
that he was trying to contact the elevator
company. They didn’t call back. The children
had heard stories about running out of air in
small places. I told them we had plenty of air
but not to talk or laugh too much. By this time
more than a half hour had elapsed. I was still
pretty sure that we would be rescued but I was
getting angry. It was then that my sense of humor
took a dark turn. I suggested that we
pretend to be dead so that when help finally
arrived, they’d be sorry they took so long.
Anna closed her doll’s eyes and we practiced
different poses with our tongues hanging out. We
laughed ourselves silly which didn’t solve
Ethan’s bladder problem or soothe
Anna’s growling intestines but it did cut
the tension.
The guard
announced that someone had called the Fire
Department. Within ten minutes, six guys arrived
in full regalia, pried open the doors and lifted
us out. Everyone in the lobby applauded.
There were flashing lights on the fire truck, and
an ambulance at the ready. The guard gave the
children Peppermint Patties. We considered
avoiding Elevators No.1 and No. 3 by walking
up ten flights of steps. But then, I
calculated the odds. The risk of cardiac
arrest for a 71 year old grandmother was far
greater than the risk of getting stuck in an
elevator twice in the same day.
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