They told him to leave work early because of all the commotion. A crowd of journalists and reporters followed Sujiro on his way to the airport’s parking lot bombarding him with questions about the dead man. Someone had told them he found the body in the landing gear compartment. He repeated what he’d told the flight attendants who’d surrounded him with questions earlier. They all wanted vivid descriptions.
The man’s foot had been sticking out of the hatch when it was opened, an image Sujiro was not able to process immediately, his mind entering the cautious delay inherent to strange encounters. Regardless, in disbelief or denial he approached, climbing up to the hatch slowly and actually studying the body for several minutes. It was the first time Sujiro had seen a dead body. The truth was he had seen his mother in a flowery coffin a few years back, but that was the last thing he wanted to think about.
The dead man was frozen in the fetal position, his arms hugging his legs tightly close to his torso, his face seized in a permanent, calm acceptance. His eyes were closed, his lips pursed as if for a distant kiss. A thin layer of ice covered the creases in his clothes and skin, which was black and burnt blue by the cold. Sujiro reached out and touched the back of the man’s neck with the intention of searching for a pulse, but an icy shock made him withdraw immediately. He felt embarrassed for being so naïve and for the first time looked around to see if anyone had noticed him taking so long up in the hatch. His coworkers were busy in the luggage compartment or elsewhere around the plane and hadn’t taken notice. He had one last look at the body and thought of telling it to stay put or that everything would be okay before climbing down the ladder.
His boss asked him to repeat himself several times, each time responding with an angrier and more incredulous expletive, like Sujiro was playing a practical joke. Within minutes the boss was warily climbing the ladder to look for himself. A quick glance was all the confirmation he needed, and he immediately came back down on shaky legs, his face completely pale. He looked right through Sujiro and wiped cold sweat from his brow while mumbling another long curse. What do we do now, boss?, Sujiro asked. Call airport police, the Boss responded plainly.
After briefly recounting what he’d seen to the journalists Sujiro drove away in a daze.
While stuck in traffic he imagined the man crumpled into the trunk of his car in that same awkward position. He turned the radio up full blast to ward off the image but found the man now sitting next to him in the passenger’s seat. Sujiro shut his eyes, let out a scream and honked his car horn all at once. When he opened his eyes a little girl sitting in the car next to his stuck her tongue out at him. He was alone again. He felt like hiding or escaping and then felt his hands get cold. Rummaging around the glove compartment he dug out a CD of Ravel’s Bolero and quickly inserted it into the player. He took a deep breath as the mellow crescendo poured out of his speakers. He rubbed his hands together as he drove, holding the steering wheel with his knees.
By the time the song reached its climax Sujiro was pulling into the garage of his building. He waited for the song to finish in order to collect himself before facing his family.
Knowing his wife would question his early arrival, Sujiro tried to conjure up a mild version of his experience so as to not scare the children. Planning his words carefully in his head Sujiro entered the elevator on the right. On its way up to the ninth floor where Sujiro lived the elevator stopped dead and went dark in a sudden jolt. Sujiro immediately cursed himself for being so careless. He’d been avoiding this elevator for days after learning that a neighbor had been stuck in it for over two hours. He’d even made sure his wife and children avoided it.
Sujiro took his cell phone out to find that he had no reception but was slightly comforted by the light it provided. He used the light to find the elevator’s alarm button and confirmed that it did nothing just as the neighbor had told him. He realized at that moment that he’d need to scream and bang until someone heard him or just wait until a neighbor noticed the elevator was stuck again. He also realized there would be little chance of anyone noticing until after business hours when residents would be returning home. Besides, Sujiro didn’t have the energy to scream or bang. He also didn’t think it wise to terrify the children with his cries for help. When the cell phone’s light went off he remained still in the complete darkness, accepting its peaceful embrace. He then leaned back against the cold metal and slid down to the floor slowly like he wasn’t sure it was still beneath his feet. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He was a bird now. Soaring high over the sea at sunset. He reopened his eyes to indistinguishable darkness. For a moment he wondered if he was dead. Maybe the elevator had fallen so quickly he hadn’t realized it. Maybe this was it. A small dark box. He thought of his children sleeping, so peaceful. He often wondered about their dreams and looked forward to the day when they could better verbalize the things they saw while they slept. He felt heavy, felt himself sinking lower onto the floor. He clutched his knees and shrunk into a ball. He was an armadillo deep inside the earth now. So he waited.
