‘Here you go, Dad.’
Scott turned. He had expected Daniel to roll one of the wheels over to him. Instead, Daniel was carrying all four of them, two tucked under each arm. Wheels, not just tyres. He might as well have been carrying swimming floats.
‘Er, thanks, Daniel. Just put them down there for me, will you?’
Daniel propped his load up against a metal post. ‘What else can I do?’
Scott scanned the interior of the garage for a task that would be useful but not hazardous.
‘You see that filing cabinet over there? We’ve made room for it in the office. Would you mind taking all the stuff out of the drawers? Then you can help me shift it.’
Daniel nodded vigorously, then marched like a soldier towards the cabinet, his arms swinging wildly at his sides.
Scott smiled and focused his attention on the first of the wheels. Seconds later, he heard a grunt from behind. He turned and saw that, rather than emptying the drawers, Daniel had simply wrapped his arms around the full cabinet, picked the whole thing up, and was now carrying it into the office.
Scott shook his head in amazement. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘Where the hell did he get those genes from?’
The movie was just okay. Scott had sat through enough films like this one to know what to expect. There were a few one-liners aimed at a more adult audience, and there was some amusing slapstick, but the main enjoyment for Scott came from watching the reaction of his son. Daniel was transfixed from beginning to end. He even seemed unaware of his hand mechanically grabbing popcorn and transferring it to his mouth. For a couple of hours, the outside world ceased to exist for Daniel, and even when the closing music thundered in, he insisted on remaining in his seat until the credits had finished rolling.
Scott wanted to hang on to that enjoyment as he drove home. He listened to Daniel jabbering endlessly about the film and tried to absorb some of his exhilaration.
But then he pulled his old Ford into the car park, and the tower block loomed as if to impress upon him that this was, and always would be, the end of the line. His heart sank. The short-lived fantasy was over.
The pair entered the building. Scott wrinkled his nose at the pungent odour of weed, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice. He had stopped talking about the film and was now on to television soap operas.
‘You mind if we take the lift?’ Scott said.
‘I don’t like lifts. I like the stairs.’
‘I know, but I really don’t feel like walking all that way up. Come on, Daniel, keep me company.’
Daniel looked up the staircase and then back at the lift doors. ‘Oh, okay.’
Scott allowed Daniel the disproportionate pleasure of summoning the lift. While they waited, Scott reflected on how quiet the building was. It could be like that sometimes, the vast structure feeling almost devoid of life.
The lift doors shuddered open. Daniel stepped in with some trepidation and stared at the metal walls enclosing him. He let out a slight murmur of discomfort when the lift jerked into life again and began dragging them upwards.
‘It’s all right, Daniel. It’s perfectly safe.’
‘It doesn’t feel very safe.’
‘I know, but it is. Trust me.’
‘I always trust you, Dad.’
The lift slowed and came to a stop.
‘This is number eight,’ Daniel said. ‘We don’t live on this floor.’
‘No, we don’t.’
The doors opened. Facing them was a man who made Scott tense immediately. The man appeared to be in his twenties. Stocky, with coarse stubble and thick eyebrows. He wore a black leather jacket and skinny jeans, and over one shoulder was slung a khaki backpack – much older and heavier looking than the one Scott was carrying. He was chewing gum, and had a cigarette tucked behind one ear. There was something in the way he glared at Scott that suggested he wasn’t a person to be trifled with.
The man came forward. Scott and Daniel parted to let him through, Daniel flattening his bulk against the side wall. As the man turned and faced forward, Scott asked him what floor he wanted.
‘Ground,’ the man said.
Scott really wished he could grant the request, but he knew the lift would insist on completing its assigned journey first.
‘Er, we’re going up.’
The man narrowed his eyes at Scott, as if to discern whether his command was being challenged. As the doors closed and the lift groaned with its increased load, the man said, ‘Right. I’ll go up, and then I’ll go down again.’ He made it sound as though Scott was entirely to blame for this elongation of his journey.
‘You must have pressed the wrong button,’ Daniel said.
Shit, Scott thought.
‘What?’ the man said. The single word dripped with a menace that went undetected by Daniel.
‘You must have pressed the up button. The lift wouldn’t have stopped if you’d pressed the down button.’
‘I pressed the down button.’ It was said with finality, but Daniel was determined.
‘Then the lift must be broken.’ He turned to his father. ‘Dad, you said this lift was safe.’
‘It is safe, Daniel.’ Scott flashed a weak smile at the third occupant, but it seemed to have no effect.
‘You should walk,’ Daniel said to the man.
