THE ORIGINAL ELEVATOR STORY

     The door opened. I entered. I was going all the way to the top floor. There were two women already in the elevator. They were speaking. One of them was telling a story. I listened. I enjoy what I call elevator stories, stories often without beginning or ending - yet always interesting. Anyway, they were speaking. I was listening.


     "There were three of us, Paul was the third one this year. And you know how difficult he can be. He hadn't gone with us before, but he expressed a strong desire to spend this winter with us. He seemed to think it might be his last." All this from the older of the two and, from the look of her, the wiser too.

     "I was actually married to him once. Did you know that?" This from the younger woman. "I certainly hope he has mellowed in his old age."

     "He has, but I don't think that was especially relevant in this particular adventure. Let me continue."

     "Certainly, I'm curious. But I wonder what this man thinks of us," seeming to notice me for the first time. "I wonder if he thinks we are making sense?"

     "Ask him."

     "Sir, do we make sense?"

     I thought for awhile, then answered with a smile, "You're telling a story. Pray, go on. Don't let my being here stop you."

     The older woman gave me a thoughtful look at that, then continued with her narrative. "We had chartered a plane to take us all the way to the camp this year, but we had to land on another lake - something to do with too much ice on the lake at our camp - anyway, we had to land a good bit out of the way.

     Fortunately, our pilot, a young man named Bernard, was a woodsman and went along with us, saying "I said I'd get you to your camp and I will."

     And he did. We walked for three days. Paul was actually very positive and helpful. I was surprised. Frank wasn't. He and Paul had done this sort of thing before. He told me, when he saw I was surprised about Paul, that Paul was a different man in the wilds. It's just that he loses his edge and becomes depressed whenever he has to stay in a city for awhile.

     Eventually, we arrived at the lake. It was already completely covered with ice. We were glad we had had the foresight to restock our wood supply at the end of the last season. We had plenty of wood, plenty of food, and plenty of comfort. We had done this many times before.

     Bernard left the next morning to hike back. He had our blessings. He'd be back for us in the late spring.


     We had been there for several weeks when we first noticed that something had changed. All of us had been meditating regularly and taking long, solitary walks on the ancient deer trails that were everywhere. We had begun to let go of our city energies.

     One morning, we all woke up with the same idea - let's do some medicine. When we put it into words, there was that sort of instant, almost telepathic agreement that we would have expected from the consciousness that the medicine would soon give us.

     We took some time to prepare ourselves, then met again in the common room, by the big open fireplace. We each sat in one of the three chairs then and took our medicine.

     We waited patiently. We would know when we had come on, when our consciousness had been enhanced by the medicine. We waited a long while, too long. We looked at one another then. Our consciousness hadn't changed at all! This had never happened before. Then I understood - and, at that very moment, I saw the same look of comprehension on the others' faces...."


     With this, the two women started out the elevator.

     I couldn't help but speak up then. "That was an incredible story. Please tell me, what happened next? What was the medicine you took? What did the three of you understand at that moment?"

     The older woman answered at once, "If I told you more, it wouldn't be an elevator story, now would it?"

     By Eugene Marks