Elevator of the Soul

Elevator of the Soul

Steven stared blankly at her; the way everyone does when we have barely awoken. The little girl clutched a folded sheet of paper tight in her small hands.

"Good Morning, Mr Steven," she said, in a small voice that can break stone.

"Good Morning, my Little Angel. Where are you heading so early today?"

Her head dropped, and Steven felt a pang in his chest. Children don't know how to conceal themselves. They are like glass containers – we see everything within them.

"I... I'm headed to my Grandma."

— Then, then it occurred. What nobody expected. The elevator shuddered, produced a sound similar to a long coughed-up mucus, and stopped. Still. Between two floors. Between two universes.

Danae started crying. Quietly. Like the first few drops of rain falling.

"Hey, Hey. What's wrong? Don't be frightened. Someone will arrive to help us," said Steven, sitting down beside her on the floor.

The little girl wiped her nose against her arm. "It's... It's just that."

"What is it?"

Silence. As heavy as a mountain.

"My Grandma... she's in the hospital. And I drew her this." She unfolded the paper shaking in her hands. A drawing. Two figures under the sun, surrounded by rays. "Me and Grandma in Heaven," she had scribbled in poor handwriting.

Steven felt his eyes water.

"My Grandma... she died when I was about your age. And I wrote her a letter. She would never get to read it."

Danae looked at him with her large eyes. "What did you do?"

"I read it each night to the stars. Because, you see... Grandmas... they turn into stars. The brightest ones."

She smiled through her tears. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

They spent nearly half an hour in the stopped elevator. When they were eventually saved, Steven took hold of the little girls' hands as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

"Will you go with me?" Danae asked.

There was no response. He merely followed her.

......................................................

"And then we went into the room," Steven says now, his voice cracking apart. "And Grandma... Grandma opened her eyes. And she smiled. And in that instant, I knew. I understood what it means to live. To love. To be human."

I grab the cup of tea from his hand. Now it has grown cold.

"The drawing?"

"She kept it until the end."

Sunlight shines directly into the room through the side of the window. Somewhere outside, a star is waiting to shine.