The 95th Floor Page 11

  It was still rather early, so after my morning rounds, I drove about in search of a gym. It was time to start caring about my appearance. I wasn’t fat by any means, but I wouldn’t consider myself slim either. I figured adding on a little toned bulk would do no harm. If anything, it would be a worthy investment with my money which was accumulating faster than I could spend it.

  After purchasing some cheap gym clothes from the Target that served as my home away from home, I found a gym that was relatively close and let them talk me into a membership which I just paid in full up front. It made no difference to me.

  It did not take long to work up a good sweat. I didn’t want to overexert myself on the first day; your muscles will protest the next morning, and not peacefully. After an hour of mild jogging and light weight lifting to get the lactic acid flowing in my muscles, I decided that was good enough and took a nice shower—another benefit I didn’t acknowledge until after the fact—and headed into Manhattan for my first visit with Keiko. Just the mention of her name made my pulse rapidly escalate.

  When I arrived on Spring Street, I parked my car at the pizzeria and walked across the street into the lone apartment building hidden amidst the various upper class-stores that SoHo is known for. I found the door with ‘11’ printed on it which gave me the chills once again. My heart was still racing so I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. Only a few seconds after knocking I heard the sound of locks being slid open and unlatched.

  When the door swung open, Keiko was standing there still in her pajamas, hair slightly disheveled and no makeup on. She was still the pinnacle of beauty in my eyes.

  “Oh, hi! I wasn’t expecting you this early, I didn’t even have time to clean myself up or get dressed. God, I feel stupid.” She said, blushing.

  “You look perfect to me,” I said, immediately wishing I had said something a little more subtle.

  “Wow, way to make a girl feel good! You don’t hold back, do you?” She said with a sly half-smile.

  “Heh, sorry. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. But since I already said it, I will admit, it is the truth.”

  “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” She said as she stepped aside and gestured for me to come inside. “Come on in. It is a bit small, I hope you don’t mind.”

  I stepped through the door and looked around. She definitely wasn’t lying. It was a pretty small place, but just right for someone living alone. This was Manhattan after all. I couldn’t imagine how much she was paying for such a tiny bit of space.

  “I don’t mind at all. I mean, this is a mansion compared to where I am living.”

  “Seriously? Your apartment is smaller than this? I didn’t think that was even possible.” She said looking mildly shocked.

  “Well, this is Manhattan. Cheap isn’t part of the vocabulary in these parts.” I wasn’t quite ready to admit I was living out of my car. She barely knew me, and I didn’t know if that would be a turn off or not. I wasn’t ready to test the waters yet.

  “Isn’t that the truth. So, are you from around here? The way you speak sounds like you haven’t been here long.”

  “Can’t hide anything from you, can I? Well, you would be right in your observation. I actually drove here from Idaho where I am from. So I’ve really only been here for a couple months.”

  She looked at me with amazement. I had the feeling she didn’t have much experience with people who weren’t born and raised in the big city. “Wow. That is cool! I mean, I don’t think I have ever met anybody from Idaho. Seems kind of…I don’t know, hillbilly? No offense!”

  I had to laugh. At least it was better than the potato joke that just never gets old. “You aren’t far from the truth. I’ve had some interesting experiences with some fellow hillbillies back home. Some I would like to forget.” I immediately thought about the New Years incident.

  “I can imagine. So what brought you to the city?”

  I hadn’t really thought of a story to tell when someone asked me this question. Obviously, I couldn’t tell her that she was the whole reason I was here. Although, part of me wanted to tell her, just for the shock value.

  “Well, I was born and raised in Idaho. Never really left the state. What better place to go to experience the outside world?”

  “Ah, I guess when you have lived in the city all your life, you don’t really see it like people from the outside do.” She said with a look of reflection.

  “So you have lived here your whole life?” I asked.

  “Well, in the area. But yeah, you could say I’ve lived in the city for pretty much my whole life. I have traveled a lot, but I have always lived here.”

  “I wish I had a life like yours,” I said. She seemed to pick up on a slight tone of sadness in my voice.

  “You sound like your life hasn’t been all you had hoped.”

  “That is putting it lightly. But I don’t want to bore you with a sob story. I came here to see you and your book collection.” I stated, trying to change topics. Going into my backstory would only be confusing given the circumstances.

  “Wow, you were actually serious about that? Haha!” She said laughing.

  “Well yeah. I mean, I thought you were too.”

  “Kind of. But that is okay. You are here, and that is all that matters.” She grabbed my hand and walked me to where her book collection was situated.

  I gazed through her collection of books and was amazed to see how similar it was to my own back home—twenty years from now. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a sign of something. I am not a religious person at all, but sometimes things still make me wonder if destiny or fate or any of that mystical stuff truly existed.

  “Wow, this looks like my own collection. I have read most of these books. This is crazy.” I admitted to her.

  “Really?” She said smiling at me. “That is too cool. What is your favorite subject to study?”

  “I love such a broad range of topics, I don’t know if I could pick just one. I just love history.”

  “Me too! I have always been intrigued by WWII though. I’m sure you already picked up on my Japanese ancestry,” Indeed I did. That was one of my biggest weaknesses and part of what I found so attractive about her. “That is part of the reason. I like to read about all sides though. Just the whole situation during that time is fascinating.”

  “I agree. I probably have more books on WWII than anything else, but I honestly have studied a whole range of different eras, going all the way back even to ancient Egypt.”

  “Oh, do you have this book?” She pulled out a book on ancient Egypt that I did indeed own and have read.

  “I do.” I scanned through the shelves and pointed out many of the other books I had either read before or owned at home. “I have this one, and this one as well. I only wish I had my own collection available for you to look at.”

  “Well, we will just have to compare one day. I bet mine is bigger than yours.” She winked at me in case I didn’t get the innuendo.

  It was getting close to time for me to get to work at the pizzeria across the street. I really didn’t want to work today. I wanted to stay here talking about history and books and other things with Keiko. I wanted to learn more about her. I was feeling good about the short time we have been together today. Deep inside me, a small spark of courage was emerging, one that I had not had once in my life.

  “Can I take you out one evening?” I blurted, surprising even myself.

  “I would love that.” She said staring at me without even a second of hesitation, almost as if she had been expecting it.

  I was shocked. I had expected rejection by default because that was the only outcome that I could imagine. There was no hiding the shock in my face.

  “R-really?” I asked.

  This made her giggle. “Yes, does that surprise you?”

  “Well, yeah. You are the first person I have ever asked out.” I am sure my face was completely red at that admission.

  “Why? I think you are gre
at. When did you want to go out?”

  “Um, this weekend? Do you have the weekends off?” My shame now turned to slight confidence.

  “I do this weekend. I just started a new job this week actually, so I am still training. My hours are a little crazy, but they will be more permanent once I am working on my own.”

  “Oh yeah? Where do you work?” I don’t know why I asked this since I was already aware of where she worked. Still, it would have been awkward had I blurted out that I knew more about her than she realized.

  “I got a job at an insurance company in the trade center, building-one. I have a great view of the city way up on the 95th floor. It isn’t the most spectacular job, but it pays enough for me to afford this place with a little extra to spare.” She tried to downplay the job itself, but I could sense her excitement of working in the towers.

  “Oh, that is awesome. I bet that view is to die for.” I winced at the horrible wording of that last statement. If only she knew.

  “It really is. The work itself will be pretty dull, but I don’t mind. It is better than what I was doing before.”

  “Well, I am happy for you.” I checked the clock and realized I had to leave if I wanted to be to work on time. “Damn, I have to get to work. Think you could stop in later? I would love to see you again. Pizza is on me.”

  “I thought that was just a one day deal?” She said referencing last night.

  “Nah, I made it a permanent rule.”

  “Aww, you are so kind. I think I’ll have to just take you up on that.” She didn’t need any make-up. She was naturally beautiful and only became more so when she smiled.

  “I’ll hold you to that!”

  I opened the door to step out when she grabbed my hand to stop me. I turned to look at her, and she just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what she wanted. But then she finally spoke. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “I’ll be counting down the minutes until you arrive.”

  She placed her hand on my cheek and smiled at me. “You keep saying things like that, and you might get stuck with me.”

  “That is my plan.” I smiled at her and walked out of the apartment and down the stairs to exit the building.

  When my heart finally stopped thumping in my chest, I thought about everything that happened. Meeting her finally and realizing that she and I were quickly becoming close only served to deepen my determination to my mission. I owe it to her to make sure that 9/11 doesn’t happen. Her and everyone else that was affected that day.

  By the time I walked across the street and entered Sal’s, I was already missing Keiko dearly. I wasn’t lying when I told her I would be counting down the minutes. I was already staring at the clock when my shift started.

  Chapter 11

  I wipe away the profuse sweat running down my face; the armpits and collar of my blue button-up shirt giving away my intense perspiration to those around me. I look around to see a plethora of dials, meters, and digital LCD displays showing what appear to be various instruments that indicate distance, speed, and height. My hands are planted on a control column in the shape of a W. It is apparent that I am flying a commercial airliner. Beside me to my left is a dark-skinned individual sitting in the captain’s chair. I look around further to see three other individuals in the cockpit who all resembled those of Middle Eastern ancestry. They are all muttering what sounds like Arabic, but for some reason, I understand what is being said.

  They are all reciting the Basmala, apparently praying. Afterward, we all repeat the Takbir.

  Allahu Akbar.

  Why am I saying something like this? I try to take my hands off the control column, but they refuse to move. Then all of a sudden I hear knocking on the cockpit door. All five of us in the cockpit turn our heads to gaze at the door to make sure it did not open. Then we look at each other as if waiting for someone to utter a command. We are startled once more when the wall phone in the cockpit starts to ring. I tilt my head down to analyze the center console dotted with knobs and toggle switches. I turn the dial to patch my headset into the overhead speakers in the cabin. Without any mental commands to do so, I pick up the headset, hold the mic to my mouth, and begin speaking.

  “We have some planes. Just stay quiet, and you will be okay. We are returning to the airport.”

  I was surprised to hear my voice as it sounded nothing like me. I sound Middle Eastern. What the hell is going on here? Soon after addressing the passengers in the plane, more knocking can be heard from the cockpit door. I pick up the headset and address the passengers a second time.

  “Nobody move! Everything will be okay. If you try to make any moves, you will endanger yourself and the airplane. Just stay quiet.” I demand and throw the headset down on to the console.

  I struggle to move my arms or any part of my body, but I feel nothing but paralysis. All of my appendages are moving on their own despite what sensory input I try to give it. I look out of the cockpit windows, clearly looking for something but I don’t know what. Then, when I spot what must be the Hudson River, I feel a sense of affirmation. I found what I was looking for.

  Upon spotting the river, I turn hard left on the control column causing the plane to bank to the left at a dangerous angle. Alarms begin shouting “Bank angle. Bank angle.” The knocking of the cockpit door and the ringing of the wall phone cease, and all I can hear is faint screaming coming from the cabin area.

  For twenty minutes I sit here, keeping an eye on the river until I finally see a large city and faint coastlines. Once I can make out the outline of the city, I push hard on the center column to take the aircraft into a steep dive, causing more faint screams to echo from the cabin that’s nearly drowned out by the whine of the plane’s engines.

  As we make it closer to the city at a much lower altitude, we hear banging on the cockpit door again. I begin to feel both a sense of superiority but also intense anger that someone was interrupting me during my moment of triumph. I grab the headset one more time and put the mic up to my mouth.

  “Nobody move, please. We are going back to the airport. Don’t try to make any stupid moves.”

  I throw the headset back onto the console and plant both hands firmly on the control column, my knuckles turning white. Another steep dive would take us to the altitude we needed. More faint screams and more whining from the overtaxed engines. Only a few more minutes.

  We are now low enough that the details of the various high rises zooming past us are easily discernible. Traffic can faintly be seen in the streets below. Just ahead were the two targets we have flown so many miles and taken lives to reach. Two tall steel gray columns pointing straight up to the clear blue sky. Both are welcoming us with open arms.

  Five voices repeating the Takbir at increasing volumes is all I can hear. I desperately try to pull back on the center column to make the plane rise to a higher altitude but to no avail. Nothing I did had any effect. It is as if someone else is in control of my own body.

  I can see the high rise directly in front of us. My left hand reaches down to grip the acceleration controls and slide them all the way forward to push the GE CF6 engines to their maximum. The whine from the engines grows louder and louder as we race towards the tower at over 400mph. Multitudes of alarms begin going off around me: overspeed warnings and clackers. I hear an alarm making Whoop Whoop sounds indicating dangerous descent towards terrain. Orange and yellow flashing lights blink on.

  Seconds left until we collide, I hear all of us screaming. I stared out the window and just before we hit the building I saw the only thing I could recognize, a short dark haired female with straight hair staring directly towards me through small rimless glasses.

  The plane collides into the building, and before any sounds could be heard, everything goes black. I can hear, see, and feel absolutely nothing.

  I instantly sat upright, gasping for air and breathing in deep, rapid breaths. It was still dark outside of my car, the windows steamed over with condensation. I sat there until my breathing c
almed back down to normal speeds. My head was drenched in sweat yet it was quite cold outside. I felt disgusting. It took a moment to realize what had just happened. I had just dreamt that I was Mohamed Atta, flying the plane into the North Tower. I saw Keiko the second the plane collided directly into her office. How does one even dream something like that? Not to mention, it would be impossible to actually see a person when you are flying that fast into a building.

  I thought it might have something to do with the fact that I am in a time period I don’t even belong in. Who knows what strange things would happen? I am probably the only person this has ever happened to, so it wasn’t like I could just ask someone or find a book on the effects of time travel. According to science, this shouldn’t even be possible.

  I laid back down in the back seat of my car and tried to get back to sleep. It was going to be a long night.

  When the sun finally broke above the horizon, I had given up trying to get any more sleep. My mind was too jarred from the horrific dream that woke me in such a cold sweat just hours earlier. Not only did it serve to steel my determination even more, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Keiko. Did I actually witness a firsthand account of her death? The thought severely depressed me, yet I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

  Rather than lay about in my cold, humid car thinking depressing thoughts and ruminating on what was nothing more than a dream, I drove to the gym and took my mind off things and worked my limbs until they ached. Today was Saturday, and I had plans to take Keiko out on the town and treat her like the queen she truly was in my eyes.

  We had been seeing each other every day this week since I arrived at her house that Tuesday morning to talk about books. I would visit her before I went to work at the pizzeria, and she would come by and get her free pizza which I always just deducted from my pay. I never let her know, but I was keeping a tally of every time she came in so it could be deducted from my paycheck.

  I didn’t know exactly how deep her feelings for me were quite yet. I had the unfair advantage of seeing her long before she even knew I existed. I was already in love with her. I would have given up anything to be with her at this point. But I was taking things slow. I never made any moves on her to steal a kiss or cop any sort of feel; not until I was sure that it would be accepted. Until then, just her presence was more than enough to make me feel euphoric. Her scent was an aphrodisiac that I could never get enough of. Until this morning, she was the topic of my dreams which were always enough to make me feel like a rejuvenated man in the mornings. But today, my mind would not settle until I made sure she was okay.