Isaac and Marilla walked over to the concierge's desk at the hotel. The concierge was a snotty little man with brown hair. He had a bald spot on the crown of his head, which he obviously tried to cover up. At the moment, he was clipping his nails loudly, as guests walked through the lobby. Isaac rang the bell that sat on the desk.
"Yes, sir? May I help you?" the little man asked, placing his clippers on the desk.
"Yes, I need to pick up my messages. I'm in penthouse 25 A, the Hansons," Isaac replied. The man shuffled through his desk drawer.
"Ah . . . yes. Here they are," the concierge said, handing Isaac a small stack of papers. "And I believe your brother is here already. He was with a young lady. She looked a great deal like your friend here."
"She's my twin sister," Marilla explained.
"Where are they now?" Isaac asked.
"In the elevator. It broke down," the concierge said, nonchalantly. He picked up his clippers again and began snapping at his finger nails as though he could have cared less. Isaac reached over the desk and grabbed the clippers out of the concierge's hands.
"What?! They're stuck in the elevator!" Isaac exclaimed.
"They're okay, sir. The repairman is working on the elevator right now," the concierge said. "At least, I think they're okay."
"You think they're okay?" Marilla repeated.
"Well, the emergency phone in the elevator has been inoperable for the past hour or so. It must have been left off of the hook," the concierge explained. "So, I really have no way of knowing."
"My god . . . they've probably killed each other by now," Isaac said, chuckling to himself.
"Either that, or Taylor is permanently unable to impregnate a female," Marilla joked. "I'm sure they're just fine. But . . . " Isaac looked over at her.
"But what?" he asked.
"Andrea is extremely claustrophobic," Marilla answered. "She goes nuts when she gets stuck in cramped places. We're talking like violent, hysterical nuts."
"Oh, shit!" Isaac exclaimed.
"That is what your brother told me on the phone, sir. He was frantic about it," the concierge interceded. "May I suggest that you go to your room and wait? There's nothing you can do to help them right now."
"Isaac, he's right," Marilla agreed. "There's really not much we can do."
"Alright. We're going to the room," Isaac ceded. "Call us when you get them out." Isaac tossed the concierge's clippers back to him.
"Yes, sir. I will do that," the concierge responded. Isaac and Marilla walked to the elevator that was still working. The doors opened, and they stepped inside. Marilla began to laugh as soon as the doors closed.
"What a ninny," Marilla said, laughing.
"Who? Me?" Isaac asked.
"No, the concierge. He could've cared less about Taylor and Andrea's safety, their being stuck in that elevator. He was to busy giving himself a manicure," Marilla replied. "How disgusting . . . what was he gonna do next? Rip off his shoes and give himself a pedicure? I have never met anyone so crude in my life. You don't do that kind of stuff in public, especially at work." Isaac started to laugh at that. "And was it just me, or was he very effeminate? He's a closet case to say the least."
"Marilla, hush up," Isaac said, chuckling still. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently.
Andrea woke up to the sound of someone snoring. Where the hell am I? She rolled over. There was Taylor.
"Ahh!" she screamed, startling Taylor awake. She grabbed her clothes and began to dress.
"Oh, shit!" Taylor yelled, jumping up. He looked down and realized he had nothing on. "Turn around, dammit! Let me get dressed!"
"Like I haven't already seen it," she taunted, remembering what had just happened between them. She turned her back to him. He pulled on his boxers, then his jeans.
"Alright, you can turn back around," he said.
"Where are we?" Andrea asked.
"We're stuck in here, remember? The elevator's broken," Taylor replied, slipping his shirt over his head.
"You're kidding me, right? I can't be stuck in here with you!" She ran over to the panel and began pushing buttons frantically.
"Not again!" Taylor ran over to her and grabbed her hands. "Stop it, Andie!"
"Don't touch me!" she screamed. Suddenly the elevator whirred into motion and the doors opened. The repairman stood there staring.
"Are you kids okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, fine," Taylor replied. He pushed the button with 25 on it, and the doors closed again.
"Boy, they look like they were up to something," the repairman remarked to himself. He shrugged his shoulders and walked off down the hallway, whistling.
Zac and Abby were still sitting at a small booth at McDonald's around eight ‘o clock. Abby was slurping on the remains of a milkshake and staring at the ceiling, while Zac was asleep, drooling on the table. Abby was becoming very bored, and Zac was showing no signs of waking up. She finally reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. He jolted upright, suddenly awake.
"What? What happened? Did I miss something?" he asked sleepily.
"No, you just fell asleep. But you did leave a pool of drool on the table in the shape of Louisiana," Abby said, smiling. "We're still at McDonald's."
"Cool!" he exclaimed looking at the drool on the table. Abby threw him a napkin and he wiped it up.
"Hey, I know a place down the street where there's an arcade," Abby said. "Do you want to go?"
"Sure, I'd love to!" he said, perking up. "I challenge you to a game of PacMan."
"You're on! But I'd better warn you, I'm the queen of PacMan," Abby said.
"Yeah, maybe you are. But are you the king ?" he responded. "Because I don't think you have the necessary anatomy."
"It's not all about body parts, you know," she said flirtatiously. She reached up and pulled her partial bun down. "I could beat you anytime, anywhere."
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said. They stood up and walked out of the restaurant. Walking down the street, Zac looked up at the stars. They were shining so brightly. Maybe she's not so bad after all , he thought. Then he ran off to catch up with her, because she was a few feet ahead of him.
Taylor shoved the key of the penthouse into the lock and opened the door. He and Andrea walked inside. He put his hand in front of her to stop her before they walked into the living room.
"Not a word about what happened, understand?" he said. "Don't even tell Marilla. No one needs to know about it."
"Okay, but you'd better understand right now, it's not going to happen again, pal. Or at least I'm not willingly going to let it happen," she said.
"You seemed pretty willing earlier," he said, angrily.
"Well . . . it was a moment of weakness. I was scared half to death in there," she replied. Then she haughtily walked past him into the living room.
"Andrea! Are you okay?" Marilla said, getting up. She ran to her sister and gave her a hug.
"I'm fine. So is Taylor. Don't worry, we didn't kill each other," Andrea said.
"Far from it," Taylor said, walking into the room. "Andie freaked out a little bit, but that was about all."
"He calmed me down," Andrea said. "I'm lucky he was there."
"I'm just glad you guys are okay," Isaac said. "We were really worried."
"Are Mom and everyone back yet?" Taylor asked.
"Nope, not yet," Isaac replied. Taylor sank down into the couch and put his head in his hands. It had been a long day. A really long day.
