Mortal Desire (4 page)

‘How can I help you today Henry?’ he asked with his pen poised in his hand ready to take notes. He peered over his glasses at the unresponsive man beside me, and then looked back to me and nodded ever so briefly in approval of my delivery.

‘Mr. Milani, I would like to introduce Mr. Asher Camden to you. He has found himself in a spot of trouble domestically, and would like some help to sort it out. I have brought him to you because I know of your success in dealing with matters such as these,’ I explained fluidly.

Mr. Milani closed his eyes before he nodded to me in the affirmative. Then he spoke to Mr. Camden. ‘Haydn, Henry has done you a favour by bringing you here. Our experience in family matters, and our ability to resolve … misunderstandings … disagreements and the like, is second to none. Henry will require your wife’s phone number—I assume it is your wife by the wedding band on your finger, and she shall join us for remediation … yes?’ It was a question and statement in one, worded so that he would not refuse treatment.

Asher pulled his business card from his wallet and handed it to me. The contact number was on the back of the card. I looked deeply into his eyes and saw his tormented guilty conscience. But was his torment and guilt for what he had done to his wife, or for getting caught?

I nodded once to him and tucked the card into my uniform pocket. I looked at Mr. Milani and waited for the next instruction that could only come from him.

‘Asher, Henry, can I offer you a tea or coffee while you wait?’ he asked.

That was my cue to leave the office.

Mr. Camden looked down and shook his head.

‘Thank-you for your offer Mr. Milani, but I must get back to work. Perhaps another time I will be able to share coffee with you,’ I replied formally, before I stood and shook his hand.

I turned to Asher and proffered my hand. ‘I wish you the entire best sir. You are in good hands with Mr. Milani. I shall send for your wife and bring her here to sort this out with you,’ I added in a smooth calm voice.

Mr. Camden simply nodded at me.

Reap what you sow Mr. Camden, it all catches up with you in the end …

Wisdom—I have wisdom. I knew that I already ... but how many more times must I prove it?

I released the elevator floor lock as soon as I re-entered my pod. With a jolt, I felt the metal rectangular prism rising at speed.

The doors opened at the thirty-eighth floor—the penthouse, owned by the very rich Mrs. Rossetti. Elevator Thirteen was hers to enjoy alone. Whenever she summoned Elevator Thirteen, an over-riding circuit cut out other floors purely to service Mrs. Rossetti at her beck and call.

‘Mrs. Rossetti,’ I called to her in my most endearing voice. I truly liked her. She was sixty-seven, and was the closest person to an Earth grandparent that I would ever get.

I held my arms out to her, and then took her hands in mine. I looked her up and down and exclaimed, ‘Graziosa e bella. Your beauty is the light of my day. Where are you off to today?’

She linked her arm through mine as we walked into the elevator, our eyes interconnected without skipping a beat.

‘Grazie Mr. O’Connell, my favourite Elevator Operator. I am taking Selena to the dog park for some socializing. She has a boyfriend you know!’

I patted the well groomed white maltese dog, being careful not to upset the pink bow in its fur atop of its head. ‘Ooh Selena, you must keep your legs crossed you know. Those boy dogs only have one thing on their minds!’

Mrs. Rossetti burst out in laughter before she held her hand over her mouth, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

The elevator descended the intestines of the building to the ground floor, where Mrs. Rossetti walked off at a brisk pace in her black fur coat, black long boots and bright pink hat. Anyone would think that she was meeting her boyfriend at the park. Perhaps she was?

I turned back to the elevator and remembered Mr. Camden. I wondered how he was going, sitting out the long wait pondering his fate when he would meet his enraged wife—which then reminded me to call her so that I could deliver her to floor thirteen also.

I had prolonged the time in contacting Mrs. Camden on purpose. The longer Mr. Camden had to reflect on his misdoings the better, only in that it would make him sweat thinking about how to explain his infidelity to his wife, I had hoped.

I pulled Mr. Camden’s business card from my pocket and entered his home phone number into my phone.

‘Mrs. Camden. This is Henry O’Connell. I found your husband crumpled in pain earlier today after your conversation with him. I have taken him to a counsellor, who requests your presence to declare your next move with your husband. The situation is in your favour Mrs. Camden. Mr. Camden will agree to any of the conditions that you choose. But do come quickly before his guilt turns to anger, in which case it will be harder to reason and negotiate with him. Come to Elevator Thirteen—I will be waiting for you.’ I ended the connection with her, not giving her a chance to decline the invitation to meet her deceitful husband. Now I would simply wait for her.

Two customers in one day … Mr. Bellini would have to be pleased with that outcome.

The next hour went rather slowly with very few clients to join me for a joy ride in my office. I did however get the opportunity to watch people.

I found them fascinating. Their quirky little mannerisms, their insecurities, the masks that they wore to fool others into thinking they were someone that they were not.

What did they gain from doing that? And what did they lose?

How abhorrent could their own self be? And was it self-imposed, or imposed by a need to be accepted by others, or even to protect themselves?

I recognized Mrs. Alice Camden walking the marble floor to Elevator Thirteen before she introduced herself. Her quick step gave her away; a quick step of urgency that meant that whatever she had to do she wanted over and done with quickly.

She held her expression in a robotic fashion, pushing the pain of Mr. Camden’s infidelity behind a mask to carefully conceal the bubbling erratic emotions just under the surface of her skin.

‘Alice?’ I queried as she approached, choosing not to use her married name to hide her identity from those who loitered about the elevator platforms.

She simply nodded at me.

I indicated with my hand to step into the elevator. She stood directly in the middle of the confined space; her demeanour as cold as ice.

As soon as the doors closed and the elevator started to move, I turned to her. ‘Mr. Milani is the gentleman attending to your husband Mrs. Camden. He is a highly sort after counsellor in situations such as this. I can assure you that you will be very pleased with the outcome that he will offer you.’

Mrs. Camden did not look at me. She was a woman scorned, and her fury was palpable.

She followed me in silence to Mr. Milani’s office. Mr. Camden was absent. It was probably for the best. This way, Mr. Milani could speak with Mrs. Camden without the fire that would burn savagely when Mrs. Camden set eyes upon her unfaithful husband.

‘Mr. Milani, I would like to introduce Mrs. Alice Camden to you,’ I said in a most formal voice, and gestured appropriately.

‘Thank-you Henry. Can I offer you a cup of tea or coffee?’ Mr. Milani asked right away. He raised his left eyebrow giving me the cue to leave.

‘Thank-you, but no Mr. Milani, I must get back to work. Perhaps another time I will be able to share coffee with you. Elevator Thirteen is the fun ride of the building after all. There will be scores of people waiting in the ride queue to experience the adrenalin rush!’ I added with humour in my voice.

Mr. Milani did not smile. He simply maintained eye contact with his raised an eyebrow until I had finished talking, and then added with the lowering of his eyebrow, ‘Very well. Good day then Henry.’

I bowed slightly to him, and then Mrs. Camden. ‘You have my sincerest thoughts for the best for you Mrs. Camden.’ I widened my eyes at her as my words left my lips, planting a seed into her
mind. It would sprout at the required time—her time of need.

I breathed out a steady stream of air through my lips then about turned and exited Mr. Milani’s office. I retreated to the solace of my elevator, deep in thought about the cruelty of human nature, and the consequences of failing in self-control, not only to the self, but to those whom we love, and who matter the most.

I started to see the Earth in shades of grey; the environment and the people. And I saw my spiritual realm in full colour. Nobody could ever see or feel the true freedom, the uplift, the soaring spirit, the surrounding Light energizing your soul and mind, and the pure acceptance of your being without judgment that one felt every moment in the dominion of the spiritual ether. I craved to be there again. Earth was torture when I knew what was in store for me after this life.

If only I could die ...

It was with conditions though. I was forbidden to take my own life once I had gained mortality.

How would my life end then if I had no control over when or how it would be?

Sometimes I wished to see how my life would unfurl. But then, the unknown was exciting. Had I been able to see my future spread out before my eyes, boredom would prevail.

Yes, I liked that I had no idea what was going to happen to me from one moment to the next.

In that instant, I was starkly reminded that my window for  transformation to becoming mortal was closing.

Perhaps I couldn’t do it on my own?

Perhaps guidance would come, in whatever form, for I knew that all things were possible. I just had to have faith, and humble myself, being thankful for this opportunity for enlightenment, and for polishing until I was shining, ready to re-enter the spiritual realm.

The ping of the opening doors resonated through me as I arrived back at the ground floor, pulling me from my contemplative thoughts. I was confronted with emptiness of souls; so much for the queue for Elevator Thirteen!

But I did have one more patron who entered my humble elevator.

All of the other elevators were in service, and mine was the only one remaining. He had no choice if he was in a hurry, and it looked like he was.

He flicked his overgrown brown hair to the side and paced in front of the elevators in his squeaky red converse shoes. He saw me waiting for him. He sighed and looked away before he dragged himself to Elevator Thirteen.

‘Hi!’ I said. ‘Which floor?’ I guessed it would be a residential floor. I had seen him in the elevator lobby many times. But he had never stepped into in Elevator Thirteen with me.

Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and his skin had paled. ‘I-I-I need to get out of-out of thirteen, please,’ he stuttered, and shuffled from foot to foot like he was ready to run.

I looked at him with concern in my eyes. ‘Why? Is it the number thirteen that bothers you?’

‘N-No. I heard that some enter thirteen and never return ... let me off please!’

‘Sure, but know that the rumour is untrue. I hope to be able to help you out next time,’ I said with gentleness of soul, piercing his blue eyes with my honey-brown eyes.

I watched as he set a quick pace out of my elevator and headed to Elevator Seven. Johnno, the operator looked at me and shrugged, then disappeared into the building transporter. I watched the numbers above the doors illuminate as they whizzed by each level. It stopped at floor twenty-seven.

Disappointed by the boy’s reaction, I cast my gaze out the large glass windows opposite my elevator. The sun had started to set, spraying the sky with shades of red, orange and yellow with a tinge of purple. I noted that Mrs. Rossetti had not returned with Selena yet. It was highly unusual for her not to return in daylight hours with Selena. I looked to the marble floor and an uneasiness swept over my gut. There was something wrong.

At once, I entered Thirteen and shut it down from service, locking it with my key. I was well aware that I could lose my job for putting it out of commission during work hours. But Mrs. Rossetti was far more important that the two or three other patrons that would use my elevator in the next forty-five minutes.

Without a thought for my Elevator Operator attire, I exited the building. The cool wind blasted into my face and neck.

‘Always keep your neck covered outside Liam. The other immortals will smell you. Do not trust any other immortal ...’

I clenched my fists when I realized the huge risk I was taking going outside without covering my neck; the risk of being exposed as to what I was. But I had to be courageous. Mrs. Rossetti was in trouble—I could feel it. Her need was greater than my self-serving preservation.

I stampeded across the busy roadway and into the park. I stopped at the entrance and looked from left to right to work out where she might be. It had to be the dog park. That is where Selena would meet her boyfriend.

I followed the dog park signs and slowed at the sight of a crowd of people crammed around and focused on something. I could see Mrs. Rossetti’s black boots in amongst the jungle of legs.

She was in the centre. And Selena was lying on the ground—covered in blood.

‘Excuse me please,’ I asserted as I pushed my way through the concerned onlookers. I squatted next to Mrs. Rossetti and held her hand in mine while I laid my other hand on Selena. Her ribs cage did neither rise or fall with breath. Life had left her, though her eyes remained opened allowing the emptiness of her body to be seen. Her spirit had left the Earthly realm and was released into the freedom of another dimension.