Elevator by Naomi Patton

All It Takes Is a Smile.

1

Markus was never considered normal. That is, his parents definition of "normal." Instead of pursuing a career in law or the medical field, he preferred something more...uncivilized. Pickpocketing. He ran away from home when he was 7, wandering the streets with all he had. His cute smile and wits. It worked for some years. The ladies couldn't hold back when he gave them big brown puppy dog eyes and asked them for money. But sooner or later, he grew up. And receiving puppy dog eyes from a 17 year old just wasn't quite the same anymore. He's tried to get a job, but with one look, they denied him. They all did.
     "They don't know what they're missing." Markus        would tell himself. He would always just fix his ripped, worn out coat like it was worth something, dust himself off, and walk away like nothing happened. That was his life. He would scrounge the streets day and night for a job as much as he would look for food. He was no doubt living the life. He'd steal some food from the food cart around the corner, subtly take a few bills out of a pedestrian's bag as they walk past him, and he would find letters on the street.
       Oh yeah, the letters.
   Every now and then, he would find an envelope with his name on it. Every time he opened it, he would get one number. Nothing else. 17 letters later, he had a whole sequence of numbers but he still couldn't put together what they meant. Usually he would search the city for answers but today he had more pressing matters. He had a job interview. Markus bought himself a brand new, scarlet scarf (using the money from the nice old lady who wasn't look at just the right time.) fixed his messy, curly, brown hair the best he could, and walked—no, strutted into the building with his best poker face. "I'm here for the interview." He said to the secretary. She looked up from her computer and gave him the look. The one where she questions why a homeless runt would want to take a job as a accountant. "Just wait over there. He'll be ready in just a moment. "
Marcus tapped a beat on the desk and walked over to the bench across the room. Markus has been in a lot of uncomfortable situations over the years but for some reason, waiting in a quiet room always made his heart beat a little faster than normal. When he was little, child services tried to return him to his parents. When he lied and told them they were dead, they were stupid enough to believe him and attempted to put him in an a foster home. The thought was way scarier than going home, which made him escape and go on the run for years. He was going to be 18 in a few months and hoped he would finally get some peace then. But for now, sitting at a bench waiting for an interview was all he had. His thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of  the door opening. A girl walked in with a black pixie cut and a nose ring. With her look, he half expected her to be wearing a leather jacket and boots, but really, she was wearing a short sleeved white dress that flowed and stopped right at her knees along with black flats. Markus didn't realize he's forgotten to breath. He quickly sucked in some air and looked down as if he were admiring the crafty design of the square tiles on the floor the whole time. "Hi, I'm here for the interview with Mr. Strickler?"
The desk lady gestured toward Markus and invited her to sit down. Markus moved aside to make room on the bench only to watch as she leaned against the wall away from him.
   Figures he thought.
They waited there what felt like days, but really just hours. More and more people came. Some came, waited for 20 minutes, and left without a word. Others stayed and sighed at how slow time was moving. By hour four, six people were waiting. After another painfully slow minute passed, Markus was about to give up and leave until the desk lady said "You all can head on up now." Everyone shuffled into the elevator, too tired to realize they had no clue which floor. But the time they took note, they were already on the third floor. The doors opened to a man in all black. From his fedora to his trench coat, he looked like he just robbed a bank in style. He walked into the already crowded elevator with a smile that could clear streets. He eyes looked no better. They looked like they were once sea green but were washed away by old age, giving him glassy, grey eyes. The elevator doors close and Markus wished they didn't. From the looks of it, everyone else felt the same way. "So," The man said. Each of them stared at the elevator floor, willing it to move quicker. "I bet you're all wondering why I've gathered you here." He grinned with that nasty smile of his before hitting the emergency button, making the elevator come to a violent stop.