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The Elevator Boy

Summary:

The Elevator Operator's view of That Scene as a poem in iambic pentameter.

Work Text:

T’was seldom did he scrut’nize raucous noise,

a skill picked quick by elevator boys.

Such sound paled next to dang’rous whirs and hums,

steel cables fraying, lifting floor to sun;

with sparking buttons flick’ring long past due,

whole system threat’ning tearfully, “renew!”

 

‘Tween such a state of dire disrepair, 

a distant noise will scarcely better fare.

But something far-off met his jaded ear;

Before the elevator doors, quite queer:

A snap (a bone?), then screaming filled the halls

and pen’trated his dour mirrored walls.

 

This threw the boy for just a moment past,

always keeping profess’nal stance up fast.

Nary an answer prop’gating the break,

the el’vator resumed perpet’al ache.

Perhaps a socialite or debonaire

reaping rewards of a torrid affair.

 

The musing fled as fast as he changed floors,

absence abided ‘till he heard the doors.

With practiced creak and crunch, the gates did slide,

op’ning for men, unstead’ly holding stride.

Chortling and doubling over, nearly downed,

the two insisted heading to the ground.

 

Though without a thought he fingered the key,

a cloud held dominion o’er the three.

Cur’os’ty fair were he to give a name

for ‘twas the only feeling held the same;

from he to they a wish to sort the scream

but man to man stuck in a kind of dream.

 

They whispered dearly of a luncheon planned

and on his levers one drunk’ly laid hand.

Caressing as though groom sliding a ring,

his fingers danced, unknow’n’gly slow stroking.

The boy’s fear of plunging down quick took hold

and to the leaning gentleman, he’d scold.

 

Thoroughly struck from the stupor, he rose,

abandoned the lever, entered a pose.

His arms poised up, whispered for a pardon,

 then turned his gaze, which began to harden.

He and his partner exchanged quite a look

so unclear as to be gobbledygook.

 

Tense and wordless, lingering for some time,

a stare unfettered ‘till a booming chime:

black gates creak and crunch, op’ning up the floor

and ‘fore he cleared to speak, they stood no more.

His el’vator bare, his questions unquenched,

he closed up the gates and went back entrenched.