The 95th Floor Read online

  “Well since your tumor is still rather small we can monitor it to make sure it doesn’t get any bigger or—”

  “Whoa, I want this thing out of my head. It’s caused me nothing but pain and aggravation since I was a kid.” I said, cutting him off.

  “I was getting to that. As I was saying, we can monitor it, or we can remove it via a craniotomy. Since your tumor is still rather small, we could remove it with what we call a ‘keyhole’ craniotomy through a small incision just behind the affected ear. It is minimally invasive, and scarring is minimal. Plus since it is behind your ear, I doubt anybody would notice anyway.”

  “I want it out. I don’t care how much it costs or how big of a scar. Get this damn thing out of my head, please.” I begged, jumping to my feet. “You are the first person to ever give me any type of actual diagnosis. You don’t know how excited I am to finally get this thing out. What do I have to do? How soon can we do this?”

  My anxiety was clearly amusing to him. “Haha, I understand your excitement. One step at a time though. Our scheduler will get in contact with you since she will set up the appointment and go over all of the pre-op procedures with you. They will need to go over your medical history, medication history, yadda yadda yadda. It is a complicated process but trust me, it will be worth it in the end. Okay?” He had that smile again. I didn't care. I was finally going to get this thing removed and live a normal life.

  “Okay, doc. Whatever it takes.”

  “Expect a call probably within the next day or two. Until then just try to take it easy and don’t starve yourself of rest.” He said before shaking my hand and leading me out into the lobby to leave.

  When I got in my car, I just sat there staring into the distance, not really concentrating on anything in particular. The reality of what just happened was finally creeping up on me. Nearly thirty years of this thing inside my head and I was finally going to get the damn thing removed. I felt speechless. For about fifteen minutes I did nothing but stare aimlessly straight ahead before I finally fished my keys out of my pocket and turned the ignition switch.

  The drive home was much more serene than usual. I drove in dead silence for the first time in ages and for the first time I enjoyed it. The rush of mixed emotions was bombarding my brain to the point that I was in a near catatonic state. My awareness was running at the bare minimum to ensure a safe drive home without leaving a trail of death and destruction in my wake.

  Upon arriving at home, I was broken from my pseudo-catatonia by noticing a package sitting on my doorstep. In the midst of the torrent of shocking news that I received this morning, I had completely forgotten that I had ordered a used book online last week and was expecting its delivery today. If anything could inspire giddy joy in me, it was the arrival of a new book. And this one should be quite an interesting read.

  I had long wanted to get a comprehensive book on the events of Hiroshima in 1945 and finally found the perfect one. I had found it at an incredibly low price on Amazon from a used book dealer out of New York City. With free two day shipping, the offer was too good to pass up.

  I ran to the door and grabbed the package and rushed inside my house to get a glimpse at my new treasure. As I tore the packaging open and took the book, out I appraised its condition. The previous owner had obviously been a fan of history like myself as the book looked well used but kept in rather good condition. No creases on the spine, no tears on the front or back cover, and no folded pages or water damage. Upon opening the book from its front cover, I did notice a sticker pasted to the inside of the cover. It was a sticker one would put in a book if they were gifting it to someone. The sticker read:

  To Keiko Miller, Happy Birthday sweetheart. I know you love history and thought you would like to read about your own history and heritage. Love Grandma.

  Below the little message, it had the date it was gifted and her birthday below that. The last line is what caught my eye immediately. Her birthday was exactly the same as mine, only ten years earlier. I figured it was a funny coincidence and shrugged it off to flip through the pages. I really am particular when it comes to my books, and I like them to be as close to perfect as possible. After checking all the pages, I went back to the inside of the cover and carefully peeled the sticker out making sure to not tear it. The coincidence of the same birthdays was too neat, so I decided to keep the sticker and put it somewhere safe.

  For the next hour, I couldn’t get the name of the previous owner of the book out of my head so I jotted her name on a piece of paper and decided to try my chances on the Internet to see if I could get in contact with her or at least find a picture of her to satisfy my curiosity. One aspect of the Internet that can be both a pro and a con. Finding people was usually easy, but so was stalking. She was apparently from New York City, so I did a search for her name and “NYC.” I had low expectations simply because the city has millions of people of all walks of life so I figured it would give me millions of results since that name couldn’t be that uncommon.

  To my surprise, the first result was actually the 9/11 memorial website. Apparently, someone with that same name was inscribed on one of the memorial fountains. I briefly glanced at it and moved on to the next result. The second search result was a newspaper article dated September 14th, 2001. As I read the article, a sense of overwhelming dread came over me. My good mood from just an hour ago was replaced with that of despair. The article indicated that one of the persons confirmed as dead was a female aged twenty-seven named Keiko Miller. The birth date was the exact same as the one on the sticker. She worked on the 95th floor of the North Tower at an insurance firm as a data-entry associate. The exact point of impact from Flight 11. I have done more than my fair share of research on that particular topic, so I was quite familiar with the details.

  As I slowly read through the page, I scrolled down further to see a small picture of her. I was awe-struck as she was simply gorgeous. Mild Asian features that gave away her ancestry, long straight dark hair, and perfect teeth that enhanced her already immaculate smile.

  I had to lean back in my chair and take a breath as I realized I was falling in love with someone who had been dead for nearly seventeen years. It was such a shame. Her family must have donated her books after her death, and now I own one that her hands had touched. At one point she read through this book with the same intensity that someone like me would. I felt a sort of kinship with her over that, but now I only felt sadness.

  I looked at the clock and realized that I had to be at work in an hour. I closed out the browser on my computer and retired to my room to put on my work clothes. I began to think about what Dr. Boyer had told me earlier to help bring my mood back to where it was before reading the depressing article on the Internet. It did help to restore some of the pep I lost. After cleaning up and gargling some mouthwash, I grabbed my keys and started to walk out the door. I took one more glance at the book sitting on the counter and shook my head. It had definitely been an interesting day.

  The gas station that served as my place of employment was conveniently located only a block away. Normally I take my time walking that lone block, but today with its interesting twists and turns of events, I paced to work and arrived a couple minutes early. Couple my slightly early arrival with the fact that I didn’t have a scowl upon my face and I obviously drew the attention of the colleague I was relieving.

  “Whoa, now that is a sight I don’t think I have ever seen. Stan with a smile. Or at least what could be classified as a smile for you.” My co-worker Jake said. My only response to him was a flip of the bird.

  Jake was someone that could probably be considered a friend. We never hung out outside of work, but on days where I relieve him, we will sometimes have chats outside while having a cigarette. He was one of the few people I could tolerate.

  “So what got up your ass today and milked your prostate?” He asked with a grin.

  “Nobody, and that’s the problem.”

  “Don’t be looking at me. I am already
taken. Plus I don’t swing that way, sorry.”

  “Well, you aren’t good for much now are you?”

  “My old lady says otherwise.” Our usual banter was giving each other shit. “Seriously though, what’s got you in such a cheerful mood today? That is kind of rare for you.”

  “Well, I’m sure you probably heard about Friday night. I woke up in the ER, and they ran some tests on me. They finally figured out what is causing all these fucking headaches.” I was more than anxious to finally share the good news with someone.

  “Dude, that is awesome! What did they find?” He asked, reciprocating my excitement.

  “Brain tumor. Not cancerous, it’s benign. I’m gonna get the bastard taken out. I can’t wait to finally be pain-free. I’m not even sure I will know how to live with that.”

  “Damn, a fuckin’ tumor? That is serious, man” He actually looked worried for me.

  “No, like I said, it’s benign. It won’t spread. They just have to dig in there and take the fucker out, stitch me back up and I’m good as new. That is how it is supposed to go anyways.” I said showing my usual cynicism.

  “Well damn, that is good to hear. So does that mean we will start seeing this all-new chipper Stan at work from now on?”

  “I wouldn’t plan on it. Being happy just isn’t my style, you know? If I saw myself with a big shit eating grin on my face all the time I would probably kick my own ass.”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, I don’t think that would be a good look for you either. Either way though, I’m happy for you, seriously. I hope everything goes smoothly.” He gave me a knuckle bump to show he was serious. “Anyways, I’m gonna head home. I have some plans with the lady tonight. No more passing out on the job, got it?”

  “I won’t make any promises.” I replied and walked back into the store as Jake got in his car to leave.

  As I walked back to the manager’s office, I noticed that whoever cleaned up the mess from Friday night did a piss poor job. The floor near where I fell was clean, but I could see numerous splatter patterns in some of the corners and even on some of the tile floorboards. Luckily, my handy roll of paper towels was still sitting where I left them. I wasn’t sure if I should thank the generosity of whoever worked the weekend or their laziness for not putting it away.

  The first hour or so of my shift is usually pretty slow with just the occasional customer here and there coming in to purchase a soda, a beer, or some cigarettes—every gas station’s top-selling items aside from gasoline and scratch tickets. I decided to perform my own duty of cleaning the remainder of my Friday night mess. Not only was it distracting, but I found it rather humiliating knowing that was my own bodily fluid stuck to the walls and drawers. I couldn’t believe someone would leave it all there for going on three days. I am far from the cleanest person alive and even I find it disgusting. But I was in a good mood, and I wasn’t going to let the laziness of others ruin my day.

  Once the unsightly fluid remnants were cleaned up I moved onward to my daily checklist of duties. Might as well strike while the iron is hot. The store was empty, I was alone, and the sooner I completed my tedious tasks, the sooner I could sit on my ass, counting away the minutes until it was time to go home.

  After today I had decided that I no longer wanted to come to work in a good mood. Not only did I walk to work in record time but I found myself with nothing to do halfway through my shift—I knew this would happen but had planned on it happening a bit later than it did. I had completed every single task as well as a few others that didn’t necessarily need to be done. I completed them out of sheer boredom. Normally I could make all of my duties stretch through my entire shift, but that was typically a result of my excessive apathy towards my job and life in general. But today I found myself sitting on the stool at the end of the register counter actually looking for something to do.

  As the minutes ticked by and eventually became hours, I realized that the name I found earlier in my new book was looping in my thoughts. I intentionally didn’t think about what I later read on the Internet as that was just too depressing. But her name just seemed to have a nice ring to it. After a while of sitting in a daze, I found that I had been doodling on the back of a discarded receipt that had been left on the counter. It turned out, in my daydreaming, I had been exercising my incredibly limited artistic skill by writing her name in big bubble letters and coloring it in with the pen I had in my hand. Today had been one of the slower days at work that I had experienced. It had been long enough without a customer that I had been able to fill in nearly all the letters on the doodle.

  As I got up to stretch since I had been sitting for some time, the chime sounded from the entrance to the store.

  Ding-Ding.

  “Well, look who it is! You better not scare the shit out of me again tonight.” It was Ted, the one who called the ambulance for me on Friday.

  “Ah, sorry about that. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try to make sure someone else is here the next time I decide to paint the floor with blood.”

  “I nearly dropped a log in my pants I hope you know.” He said with a chuckle.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t. I ended up having to clean up part of my mess this afternoon. Had you shit your pants on Friday, the turd would probably still be sitting there on the floor as we speak.”

  “Jeez. Well, I’m glad to see you still in one piece. You dropped like a fly. I freaked the hell out and ran around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get help and figure out what to do with your store. I should get paid for watching this place after the paramedics and cops left.” I couldn’t tell if that last comment was serious or not. I decided to just ignore it.

  “Hell, I’m just glad you were here. Everything turned out great in the end. They found a tumor in my head!” I said not realizing how it sounded.

  “Uhh...I wouldn’t call that great, Stan. Are you still messed up from that fall?”

  “Oh, no. I mean they found out the reason for all my migraines and dizziness was from a small tumor in my ear. It’s no big deal, they can remove it. This is the first time in thirty years anybody has given me an answer for this. I am stoked about it. Well…not about having a tumor in my skull, but about finally knowing that it can be removed.”

  As I was explaining my situation to Ted, the door chime went off again. This time it was a woman with long flowing hair, the kind I love.

  Ding-Ding.

  The woman didn’t look towards Ted or me, but I was able to get a good enough look at her profile of her face and my heart immediately sunk into the pit of my stomach. It was a face I had not seen for many, many years, and also one I would never forget for as long as I live.

  “Whoa, Stan, you aren’t going to drop like a rock again on me, are you? I can’t deal with that shit a second time” Ted said with real worry on his face.

  “It’s her…” I said in almost a whisper.

  “Who? The chick that just walked in?”

  “Yeah. Ex from long long ago. We haven’t spoken since my freshman year of high school.” My palms were getting clammy, and my body felt like it had warmed up a full twenty degrees.

  “I think I am going to head out, Stan. I think you two should be alone. See ya, man. And good luck.” He said as he tip-toed out of the store.

  Now it was just the two of us. Alexis and myself. We hadn’t spoken to each other in almost twenty years, yet I still thought about her every day and wanted to kick myself every time I did for ruining such a good thing. I had dated a few women since that day, but I always ruined them either by not being affectionate enough or by being the same asshole that drove Alexis away all those years ago. Sometimes it was a combination of both. My lack of affection could always be attributed to my lingering fixation on the one that got away so long ago. And now that she was here, I felt like a beat dog who just wanted to cower in the corner, hoping she wouldn’t notice me.

  But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had my shitty little job to do that
I immediately felt embarrassed about now that she was here. I watched as she roamed the aisles looking for a snack and a soda.

  Then I thought about how I have worked here for over six years and never once seen her in here. Either she was just in this part of town, or she usually came in when I wasn’t on shift. But that wasn’t important right now. It looked like she found what she wanted and was walking my way. That was when I looked down to notice the doodle I had done in my boredom and quickly stuffed the receipt in my pocket. Why I did this, I will never know.

  “Oh…hi…” She said with a startled hesitation.

  “Uh...hi, Alexis,” I said trying to avoid eye contact. “I, uh, haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “Yeah.” She said passively. Her feeling of awkwardness was apparent.

  “Yeah.” I said, sounding like an echo.

  “So...are you going to tell me how much I owe?”

  “Oh, right,” I said, fumbling like a dope. “So, like, I am off in like 15 minutes, you want to go outside and chat for a bit? Maybe catch up a little?”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea, Stan.”

  “Why not? I haven’t seen you for, what, twenty years? I’m glad to see you are okay and everything. You look great.” I wasn’t trying to hit on her, I was merely stating a fact. She really did look good after all this time.

  “Well, look, I’ve moved on, you know? I would hope that you have too.”

  “Not really. If you can’t tell, I work here. Not exactly working my way up the corporate ladder, you know?”

  I could see that she was avoiding eye contact with me as if this was overly awkward for her.

  “You look uncomfortable. Why? You said you moved on, but you are making me feel like I am some villain or something. What is up with that? You can’t honestly be still pissed off at me.” I was starting to feel snubbed by her.