I walked up to the front desk where the guard smoked in leisure. He blinked in recognition before I spoke to him.
"I reckoned you don't recognize me son? It's been a good long years since I last saw you. You are Jim, right? You've put up some weight like your old man did." The guard, probably in his 60s, slender with a face of white beard spoke in a deep, weak voice, "How's he doing? Still earning the big bucks at the auto dealership?"
Dealership? Dad hadn't been on a job for 5 years. It was a bit of this or that which made up for the living. "He's unemployed." There wasn't much to tell. I still couldn't remember who this man is. My brain just won't budge.
"I guess everybody's on their own in this unsteady economy." He took another mouthful of smoke and breath out slowly in my direction. He turned side-way and coughed in a way most smoker did, old and fragile. When he moved back facing me, he said "Well, what's your deal doing here at this hour then, someone you know lives here?"
"I am on a job actually, I am what you called an I.T guy, I help fixing people's gadgets for a living." I flashed him my employee I.D. "A client called and I am the only one left in the night shift."
I thought he would let me go, instead he dug out a piece of paper and a pen from the drawer and started writing his name and number. "Ask your folks to call me, I have something that belong to them. It's nothing but I am sure they would like to have it back." I tugged the paper strip deep into the pocket without even bothered to read it.
"What is it?" I am curious, "I can give it back for you."
His gaze shifted, thinking of something to reply but got stuck in his throat. "You'd better go now, people aren't going to be nice if they knew you'd take your time here chatting. They have got this camera thing set up all around here. See that one over your shoulder?"
It's there alright, I saw the faint blinking red light when I entered.
I slammed the button for the elevator. What was it that he wanted my parents to have?
It took me an hour to fix the problem the client was having and was half past eleven already by the time I finished the paperwork. I called up the elevator. It descended steadily until it came to a jerky stop when reaching the ground floor. The fluorescent light overhead flickered and went out; the fan died down. Then came the red light of death. Elevator malfunction. I was trapped.
I pressed firmly on the 'Alarm' and reached the old man at the front desk, he didn't patch through though I heard his voice outside the steel elevator door. He yelled help was on the way, and he could do nothing.
I asked him while pacing inside the cubicle space "So, can you tell me that stuff you want to give back to my parents now? And who are you? I still don't remember you."
"I am a friend of your family; your parents helped me once back when you were going to college. And I happen to have a thing that belongs to your parents." he said, "We met once at the train station, don't you remember?"
Walking down the memory lane, it was hazy, though I did recall sighting my parents talked to a strange man when I was buying tickets. Could that be him?
"What kind of thing?" I asked, sounded offensive.
Some one buzzed for the door, he went with a dragged footstep and in came the help. I was out of the elevator in no time.
He was no where in sight.
I fished out the paper he gave me, and it wrote
'Best Day Ever 1998/11/7 S.S.D'.
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