Day 112 - Regent Story

Regent Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The skyscrapers blocked the night sky, but when Maurice was at his desk, if he leaned down and to the left, he could look out the glass front door of the building and catch an angle between two apartment buildings and get a glimpse. Sometimes a glimpse was enough. Sometimes that was all a person needed. Just a little something to remind them of what was out there and what could be. It was a nice reminder. Maurice worked the day shift often enough, but he preferred the night. He preferred stars over blue skies any day of the week. They sparkled with hope and wonder. Blue skies and cloud cover never did that.

Mister Edwards lived on the top floor. Mister Edwards was handsome and young and had become rich exchanging money for dreams or dreams for money. Maurice didn’t actually know what Mister Edwards did, but he knew the man carried himself like he was one of the kings of the world. That was enough to earn Maurice’s respect, but Mister Edwards also had a sense of humor and would throw you a wink and a smile as quick as he would throw a line of bullshit around. He was self aware and brought you in on the joke. Maurice liked that. A rich man should know how to make the little guy smile.

Mister Edwards also liked to bring beautiful young women to The Regent. Tonight he stood in the front door with an unnatural blond. Maurice pretended not to listen, but he couldn’t help but overhear some of their conversation.

“Where do you live?”

“12B.”

“The top. Mister big shot.”

“Top floor. That’s me – the top. All the way baby.”

“Maybe I’ll come up and see you sometime.”

“Maybe so, maybe so. Maybe you should right now.”

Mister Edwards winked at Maurice as he led his date past the front desk and towards the waiting elevator.

Maurice kept the lobby cool. Most people would have turned the heat on by now. Not Mo. No, Mo liked things cold. He also liked working on a Friday night when the girls from 4D were going out to the nightclubs in their scant little nightclub outfits, and the cold lobby allowed him to see just whatever he could see. It was the trick of a dirty old man, but Maurice had no shame and was content with being a dirty old man in training.

The Regent had twelve stories and eight condominiums per floor. The Regent was Maurice’s life. It was also his soap opera. He loved the tenants there like they were family, but he loved their stories and drama like a rubbernecker loved a car pileup.

“She said she had to find herself.”

Mister Richards from 6B stepped off the elevator and walked and talked with Mister Davis from 6E.

“At least that’s what she said. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if she knows what that means. What does that even mean?”

They were out the front door before Maurice could hear anymore.

Maurice knew too much, but never enough to keep him satisfied. Sure, people treated his lobby like it was a stage show. They acted out their lives and hardly noticed him sitting there. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Or maybe they never thought about him at all. How many people really thought about the hired help? But they should have. Discretion was not a common thing at The Regent. They left their privates out and made a public spectacle all under the guise of everyday life. But just when the stories got good, just when Mo was going to hear or see some indiscretion, just when the real juicy part was about to happen, that was when they got on the elevator and closed those doors. It was like a god damn soap opera alright, with all the backstabbing and fighting and love affairs, except all the good parts were stolen by the secrecy of those elevator doors.

Maurice always looked for the light above the elevator. It was his signal, his beacon. It told him when someone was coming or going. It told him when the show about to start or about to be over. He thought it was like that light in that book they made him read back in high school, but he couldn’t remember all of it. Everyone was yearning for something, something they could never reach.

He wanted his own light. He wanted something to reach for.

They danced their dances. Spinning so fast and so hard, hoping the world would never stop spinning with them. It looked so easy sometimes. The ride that nobody wanted to get off. They just lived and loved and he only caught a glimpse.

He wanted to do something good. He yearned for something, but didn’t know what. He would have pushed himself hard, but didn’t know how to make it happen. So instead he just watched them.

One way he had the stars in the sky, the other the light above the elevator. A signaled arrival or the prospect of something new. A longing gaze or secret voyeurism. The new versus the unknown. Which was better? His dreams or theirs?

Sometimes he didn’t know which way to turn.