The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued
Page 99
Empire State
"The Elevator Never Stopped at 86" A dream-memory in five acts
He’s five again. Not metaphorically; actually five. The dream insists on it. His legs dangle from the edge of a red vinyl diner booth, his father’s hand warm and calloused around his own. Outside, the Empire State Building pierces a sky the color of faded Kodachrome. It’s 1961, and everything smells like hot pretzels and gasoline.
His father says, “Ready, kid?” and he nods, though he doesn’t know what for. The building looms like a rocket ship. He thinks they might be going to space.
The Art Deco lobby is a cathedral of brass and ambition. The boy stares up at the mural of the building itself, rays of light shooting from its spire like it’s the sun. His father kneels beside him and whispers, “Built in a year. Can you believe that?” The boy can’t. He doesn’t even know what a year is.
They pass velvet ropes and a man in a cap. The elevator doors open with a sigh.
The elevator is a time machine. It hums and climbs, numbers lighting up like a countdown in reverse. The boy watches the dial spin past 20 … 40 … 60 … 80 …