Oh goodness! I’m so sorry, I forgot to post this on Tuesday! Things have been so hectic and it totally slipped my mind… 😦
Forgive me and read on…
Brock tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator door to open. It was his lunch break and he didn’t want to keep Leland waiting, however irritating he could be.
The door slowly slid open. He stepped in.
“Wait!” a voice shouted behind him.
Brock held the door and Jeremiah, a chemist, ran in beside him. He still had a beaker in hand.
Seeing Brock’s questioning look, Jeremiah started to explain. “I need a few things in the cafeteria for my experiment.”
Brock nodded slowly. “I see.”
The door shut and Brock felt the floor dip as they zoomed down.
“Hey, did you find anything interesting on your exploit?” Jeremiah asked.
“Well, I might’ve-” but Brock couldn’t finish because there was a sudden violent bang and then a spine-chilling shift in the elevator.
Brock and Jeremiah screamed as the floor suddenly dropped beneath them.
Gasping for breath, Brock backed up against the wall and hung onto the railing, keeping his eye on Jeremiah.
And then it stopped with a loud, irking crash.
Brock let out a short gasp. The elevator had fallen.
Jeremiah had already pressed the emergency button, setting off an alarm.
Brock shakily let go of the railing and made for the door. He forced himself to stop shaking and tried to wrench the door open. No luck.
Brock slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. Jeremiah sat next to him, jaw clenching.
“Odd,” Brock finished for him.
Jeremiah shook his head. “And didn’t they just repair this elevator a week ago?”
“I…I don’t know what could’ve happened…” he stood up. “If I could look in the gearing mechanisms…”
Jeremiah stood up. “I don’t think you can without be outside of the elevator.”
Brock folded his arms. “Well, what should we do then?”
Jeremiah wrung his hands. “Do you have a phone?”
Brock thought for a moment. “But even if we could call someone, how would they help? We’re stuck down here until the elevator maintenance comes.”
Jeremiah pounded on the door. “Help!”
Brock sat back down, thinking. How could something like this happen…? Especially if the elevator had just been repaired?
They sat, waiting. After what seemed like ages, they heard voices.
All Brock remembered after that was stumbling out of the elevator’s open doors and Hildebrand saying to go home. Brock thankfully complied.
Walking up the sidewalk toward his apartment, Brock struggled to think things through. But his brain was too jumbled from the elevator incident.
He didn’t even want to think about the gold block. Sighing, he grabbed his key and stuck it in his room door. It didn’t open.
Brock gripped the key harder. He tried to force it in, but to no avail.
Resigned, Brock slumped heavily against the door, slipping his phone out.
“Hi, yes, is this the Gregory Locksmith Company?”
Soon, Brock was inside his apartment, sitting on his couch staring at the block.
He’d been feeling a bit dizzy, first after the elevator, and now being locked out.
He couldn’t understand it. Had someone slipped his key while he was at work?
He sighed, exhaustion creeping up on him.
The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. He quickly made for the door and wrenched it open.
“Leland,” Brock said, feigning surprise. He knew Leland wouldn’t leave him alone until he paid up.
“Sternberg,” he said flatly.
Brock fought against rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry Lel, I can’t be sure about anything, and…”
He hesitated, not wanting to voice the doubt he’d had since that morning.
“I…I don’t really want to touch it. Again.”
Brock studied his feet. “The gold.”
Leland raised his eyebrows, folding his arms. “That’s why you haven’t paid us?”
Brock bit his lip. “I…I just have this terrible suspicion…”
“What? What could it possibly be?”
Brock glared. “You won’t believe me.”
Leland shrugged. “Try me.”
Brock inhaled. “I think that gold is cursed.” He shut his eyes, not wanting to see his friend’s face.
However, Leland made it quite clear what he thought of that, regardless of facial expressions.
“You’re kidding me. You’re seriously kidding, right?”
Brock didn’t say anything.
Leland sucked in a sharp breath. “It was the elevator wasn’t it? Don’t lie to me!”
Brock straightened a bit. “No, not just the elevator…”
“So it was the elevator.”
“No! I got locked out of my house! I had to call a locksmith! And…” Brock hesitated. “Hildebrand. When…when he touched me, touched my shoulder, he started…sneezing.”
Leland stared in disbelief. “Brock, do you even hear yourself? Cursed?” Leland grabbed Brock’s shoulders and shook them hard.
Brock’s eyes shot open and he shoved Leland away. “I hear myself just fine, thank you.” But truthfully, Brock couldn’t get himself to believe what he’d just said either.
Leland gritted his teeth. “If this so-called curse is real then prove it!”
Brock narrowed his eyes. “How would I do that?”
Leland looked fierce. “Exactly! You can’t, because you have no excuse!”
Brock clenched his fist and hit it hard against the countertop.
Chaos ensued as the countertop cracked open, leaving it in a heap of disarray.
Brock pulled away, staring dumbly at the counter. He looked to Leland, eyes wide.
Leland leaned against the doorway, his face paling. “That…that was a…a fluke!”
Brock stiffened. “A fluke? Does your countertop crumble so often?” He clenched his fists, anger mixed with a sense of dread washing over him.
He marched to the doorway. Leland took a step back.
“Brock, I-It can’t be…that’s just…” He stumbled over his words, confounded.
Brock felt a headache coming on. He leaned against the doorway, hand on the jamb.
Leland took another step back, clenching his fists. “I’m sorry Brock…”
Brock’s fingers tightened around the doorknob, and an instant later, he felt the knob loose in his hand.
Anger swirled in his head. He threw the knob at the gold block, its glimmer mocking his lame attempt.
“I…I gotta go…” Leland sped away.
Brock didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be near himself either.