Chapter Nine
Nine
He moves swiftly to the foyer, almost racing there because this is it, someone has come for them, thank Christ this nightmare is over.
Should he grab his shoes? No, let the guy in first, he’ll give them time to get ready. He came to get them, after all, because it’s over, this nightis—
He flings the door open.
Nobody’s there.
The hallway is, as it always has been, low-lit, immaculate and empty.
What the hell? What—
He hears the violent pounding again. It’s so loud he jumps.
He leans out of the room.
Three doors down, a large man in a white bathrobe is beating frantically on a door.
While Nick watches, the man gives up and throws himself at the next door, pummeling it with his fists.
Not a firefighter.
Fucking hell, it’s not a firefighter.
The disappointment is like a blow. It’s likea—
Nick! What’s happening?
She’d rushed to the door right behind him, but she can’t see what he sees. The stranger must hear her voice, because he turns, sees Nick and with a hoarse cry comes barreling toward him.
And Christ, he isn’t a large man, he’s enormous, hurtling up the hall, growing bigger and bigger and babbling, what’s he babbling? Bare feet, huge bare legs, flapping robe, terrified and honestly a little terrifying.
He feels the urge to duck back in and slam the door. The man is…he’s just so massive, and Jesus he’s fast, and he seems…but there’s no time to think it through, no time to decide because the man is there, looming in the doorway, slowing down but not stopping, his size and agitation forcing Nick back into the room. Jenny retreats behind him.
The man slams the door and sags against it, quivering and sweating, looking none too steady on those tree-trunk legs. He gasps for breath, making sounds like little shrieks.
Luojan kiitos! Luojan kiitos! he says, between gulps of air. Luojan kiitos!
Jenny stares at him. Oh, no! I thought we were—
Tarvitsen puhelimen! the man gasps. Miss? puhelimesion?
Let’s give him some space, Nick says. He guides Jenny back into the main part of the room, keeping himself between her and the colossus propped against the door, because he doesn’t know, he’s just not sure about this guy. He must be six-six, six-seven at least, three hundred pounds, maybe more. He’s completely bald and dressed only in a hotel bathrobe. Also…
He smells like smoke, she whispers. Oh God, Nick, he reeks ofit!
Hey. He takes her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. Jenny? It’s fine. We knew there was smoke out there. We ran into it ourselves. This guy has been through the same thing, that’s all. There’s no smoke in here, right? There wasn’t any smoke in the hallway just now. When he calms down, we can ask him what he’s seen, but right now we’re perfectly—
The stranger launches himself off the door with a cry, practically knocking them down as he lumbers toward the window.
Jesus Christ, man! Take it easy!
But he can’t—he’s full-on panicking. He paces in front of the window, peering out at the snow, rubbing his bald head and muttering.
Nick takes a cautious step toward him. Hey. Hey there.
The man stops pacing and turns.
Do you speak English?
The man points out at the window. Mik? suunta se on? Pohjoinen?
So that’s a no, Nick says.
Tarvitsen vitun matkapuhelimen! The man’s voice is shrill. His eyes are bright and tiny in his wide pink face. He can’t seem to control his breathing. His hands flutter helplessly at his sides. They don’t belong to him right now.
It must be bad out there, she says. If he’s acting like this? It must be so bad.
Jenny, please don’t freak out on me, okay? I can’t handle two—
The giant lurches away from the window, stopping in front of the television. He watches the news, his mouth hanging open. With his rosy baldness, his snowy robe and bare feet, he looks like a huge, confused baby.
Mit? helvetti? tapahtuu? he whimpers.
What the hell language is that? Nick says.
I don’t know. It sounds like—wait! We can googleit.
She moves to the sofa and shakes out the duvet. Her phone tumbles to the ground. The stranger turns from the television at the sound, and his wild little eyes widen.
Matkapuhelin! he says. Joo!
And as she bends to pick it up he’s right there on top of her. Christ he moves fast. What’s he going to do, snatch it away from her?
Hey, Nick says, again trying to insert himself between Jenny and the behemoth. Calm down, okay? If you need to make a call we can…no, don’t take it from her, don’t—can you chill, please?
It’s okay, she’s saying to the man, it’s okay.
Nick is pushing the guy’s hands away as gently as possible, but he keeps reaching for the phone. They’re both talking at him and backing away, the man is babbling and following them, not angry, not forcing himself on them, and yet he’s so very fucking large it’s hard not to feel threatened.
Give us a minute, Jenny says to him, just one minute, okay? And we’ll…look! I’m going to google it, I’m opening Google Translate— translate, yeah?—and we’ll use it to talk.
She types swiftly. Here. Here itis!
Don’t give him the phone, Jenny. We might not get it back.
I won’t, I’m just showing him the…look! Look! She points at the screen, where there’s a microphone symbol. Talk, okay? She taps the icon, then nods, touches her lips and makes a little exploding star with her fingers: go ahead, say something.
The man unleashes a torrent of sound.
Whoa, whoa! Okay. She taps the screen again. Waits.
It’s Finnish, she says.
Joo! Joo! The man lets loose another flood of words as he reaches for the phone.
Easy there, pal. He’s from Finland? How does he not speak English?
He probably does, he’s just too upset to…okay, can you…she holds up a hand, which somehow shuts the guy up. She taps the microphone and speaks. Slow down, okay?
A text box pops up, reflecting what the microphone captured:
low down oak.
Oh no, she says, that’s not—
Matala tammi, says a deep voice from her phone.
The huge Finn looks perplexed.
Jenny clears out the translation and tries again, enunciating carefully: Slow. Down.
Hidasta, the phone says.
Hidasta, she repeats, nodding at the man. Hidasta! Now. She taps the microphone. What’s your name?
Mik? sinun nimesi on? the phone says.
The Finn blurts out a string of sounds. They wait while the app translates.
Give me the phone, the voice from the phone says. I will find a way out.
Jenny looks to Nick, baffled.
He taps the microphone. How will you do that?
The Finn fidgets as he waits for the translation. Then he speaks. Then they wait.
I am an engineer , the phone says. I will locate the building plan.
Nick and Jenny glance at each other.
Do you thinkhe—
No time! the Finn cries. There is fire!
No shit, Nick says, but—
Give phone! the man insists. Give phone and I show!
He’s looming over them, vibrating with impatience.
Give him the phone, Jenny.
But—
Just do it. Better that than he rips it out of your hands.
She offers the phone to the Finn, who grabs it eagerly. She shoots Nick a resentful look.
What? he says. I’m trying to protect you.
Yeah? You’re doing a great job.
She moves away. The Finn paces by the window, typing and mumbling to himself. Nick watches him. What the hell is happening right now? How is there suddenly a gigantic stranger filling their room with his bulk and his anxiety?
Where did he come from? What did he see?
Is it really bad out there?
No. It can’t be. The hallway was clear. Not a whiff of smoke.
Jenny comes back around the bed, holding his phone.
Unlock this, she says. I’ll use it to talk to him.
I’m not sure he’s in the mood.
We need to find out what he’s seen, Nick.
He unlocks his phone. She starts typing, then frowns.
These keyboard sounds, she mutters. Jesus.
Are you okay? he asks her.
I’m peachy, thanks.
Look, he says. We both got upset just now, but let’s be civil, okay? At least while we deal with whatever thisis?
Go to hell, Nick. She walks away from him, typing.
Nice. No, really, that’s sweet. But fuck this. He doesn’t need a random European, or Google Translate—he’ll call downstairs and get some information. An update, a timeline. It would also be nice to talk with someone who doesn’t think he’s an irredeemable asshole. He moves around the bed toward the room phone. She has no right to be angry with him. She’s the one who lied, who toyed with him, who—
He picks up the receiver. It slips out of his grasp.
Because his hands are trembling.
He lowers himself to the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath.
He’s a little rattled.
No, not rattled. Disorganized. This is too much, all at once. They were shouting at each other, they were breaking up—were they really?—then came the banging, the rush to the door, now they’re dealing with a plus-size Scandinavian who’s shedding stress like a fucking virus. Who wouldn’t be skittish in those circumstances?
What’s your name? she says into his phone, then holds it up to the Finn.
He needs to get a grip. He’s disappointed, sure. Bitterly. No rescue for them, no salvation, not yet. But there’s nothing to be done about that, so he needs to let itgo.
Edvin? she says. Hi, Edvin! I’m Jenny. She puts a hand on her chest. Jenny.
The Finn nods at her briefly, then returns to his study of her phone.
So did she have an orgasm or not? He thinks she did. Her confession had the ring of truth. And he’d been skeptical when she said she’d faked it. He knows her, how she feels when she…
Why the fuck is he thinking about orgasms right now? Jesus, he’s all over the place. Outrage still twanging through him. Not to mention a cringing mortification. What was he thinking, exposing himself to her like that? Telling her he thought he was losing her? What did he expect?
Doesn’t matter. It’s over. They’re parting ways. He suggested it, and she agreed.
The Finn—Edvin, apparently—is now chattering away as he scrolls and types. Jenny raises Nick’s phone to capture what he’s saying.
I tried to go down the stairs, the voice from the phone says, but when I opened the door it flake force right moon.
She sighs and taps the screen. Can you repeat that? she says into the microphone.
Calmer now, Nick picks up the receiver and dials the front desk. He proposed they be civil, and he will be, for the rest of this miserable night. That’s two rings. He watches the Finn move away from the window and head for the television, trailing Jenny. Are they really done? Did he overreact? She’d lied to him, but she was trying to make it right. That’s six rings. These useless clowns. Are they just not picking up now? Are they…
There must be someone downstairs.
Right?
He hangs up and redials. Of course there’s someone downstairs. The hot NY1 reporter is still yakking away, though nothing is going on behind her. A few firemen strolling into the building, that’s it. Look at that guy. Captain Sloth. Could he be more unhurried? He’s not dashing toward an inferno—he’s heading in for a colonoscopy.
Jenny is speaking into his phone slowly, eyes on the stranger’s face. She’s so generous with him, so patient. Must be nice. Word of advice, buddy. Don’t expect straightforward answers about her sexual satisfaction, okay?
The mega-Finn is listening to her, scrolling on the phone and glancing at the television. He’s like a carnival creature. In that scrap of a bathrobe that barely reaches his knees. You expect someone that size to be a little tougher. More self-possessed.
They’re still not answering. He hangs up, considering whether he should do something that occurred to him a while ago, but that he decided was unnecessary, too dire, too…
Doesn’t matter. It’s time.
He dials 911.
The line is busy.
He and Jenny can’t be done. He was bewildered, that’s all, caught off guard. He still is. Why would she say she didn’t come when she had? How can you know someone so well, physically, intimately, while inside they’re a black fucking box? But then, why is he surprised? Her lies are always mystifying. Like the age thing. Why does she pretend to be two years younger than she is? Does she think he doesn’t know how to google?
Ei, the Finn says. Ei …
His voice sounds different. A little hollow. He swallows hard.
Edvin. She touches his arm. Are you okay?
The Finn clutches his stomach and runs for the bathroom.
He yanks the door shut behind him, so hard it nearly comes off the track.
They hear the toilet seat slam down on the porcelain.
Then, a massive blast. A splash.
A fusillade of wet farts. A piteous groan.
They exchange a look.
Yikes, she whispers.
There’s another sizable splash. Then another.
The poor bastard, he says. Did you learn anything?
A little. She’s studying his phone. He’s been here since last week, in a room on the forty-seventh floor. He heard a bunch of alarms over the weekend, which turned out to be malfunctions, so he wasn’t worried when the announcement to stay in our rooms came over the intercom. But when he heard the shrieks, and the voices arguing, he realized this was different and rushed out of his room. The nearest stairwell was full of smoke, which spooked him even more, so he decided to go back and wait…which is when he realized he’d left his key in the room.
From the bathroom comes another groan. Then another substantial discharge.
He needs to think about flushing, Nick says. What then?
He started banging on doors. He eventually found another stairwell—the same one we tried, I think. He made it down a few flights when a big cloud of smoke came billowing up. So he escaped onto this floor and kept trying doors, until he got to ours.
They hear a flush. Then another.
Edvin emerges, holding up her phone.
I find plan, he says. Now wego.
He’s pale, but perfectly calm. He moves toward them.
There is way. See?
There is in fact some kind of blueprint on Jenny’s screen.
Where did you find that? Nick asks.
City, Edvin says. All cities has department.
His English has returned, along with his poise. He swipes the screen with steady fingers, expanding the image.
We are here, he points at the diagram. South side of structure. Television say fire on west side of structure.
Nick looks to Jenny. They did say that a minute ago, she says.
I try stairs B, here. Edvin points to one corner. No good. Then stairs A, to get here. You also try A, Jenny say, yes? All close to fire, see? Now we go stairs C, on north side of structure. Safe route.
The fire is almost out, Nick tells him. If we sit tight, we’ll…
Edvin turns and disappears back into the bathroom.
Nick shakes his head. He’s out of his mind.
He seems fine now, she says.
Because he’s found something to feed his delusions. He was literally shitting himself with fear two minutes ago, now he’s seen a single floor plan and he’s Ferdinand Magellan?
He’s an engineer. Maybe he knows what he’s talking about.
She can’t be serious. Jenny, he says. Please don’t tell me you think this is a good idea.
We should at least considerit.
No time! Edvin says. He’s back, his arms full of wet towels. No considering. Wego.
He dumps the towels by the door and heads for the cabinets. Nick watches him open one and start rooting around. He turns to Jenny.
This is who you’re going to listen to? The guy who didn’t have the brains to bring his key with him when he galloped out of his room—in a bathrobe?
But I should listen to you? she says. The guy who persuaded me to stay when we could have gone? Who lied to me about where the fire is? Who—
Jesus Christ, I’m sorry, okay? I screwed up! Repeatedly, comprehensively. Trust me, I am very, very, very sorry we didn’t leave. But that doesn’t mean we should leave now, when the problem is almost solved. That’s fucking insane!
He turns to find Edvin right on top of him, holding a laundry bag.
You should not swear at your wife, the big man says.
Nick sighs. Right. Thanks for the tip, chief.
Edvin moves to the fridge. He stuffs bottles of water into the laundry bag. He scrabbles around in the snack shelves.
You saw the news, Jenny. We’ll be able to walk out of here soon. But not yet.
Edvin was so scared when he got here, she says. What if it’s worse out there than what we’ve been told?
Then we definitely shouldn’t go! It’s…what the hell is he doing now?
Edvin has opened Nick’s suitcase. He pulls out a pair of running shoes.
Okay, that’s…Edvin? That’s not cool, man, those are—
Edvin tosses the shoes aside and moves on to the desk. Nick watches him ransack the drawers. She can’t go with this guy. She can’t…Christ, all night it’s been like this. She tries to escape, he tries to stop her. He didn’t want her to leave the bed, the room. Their this. He should have let her go when she wanted to go. They both should have gone.
But just because they should have gone then doesn’t mean they should go now.
Edvin drops a ballpoint pen into his laundry bag. He picks up one of their robes from the floor, yanks the belt through its loops and shoves that in, too.
Nick reaches for her hands, but she draws back.
Jenny, please listen. I know you want to go. But—
Why do you care whether I go or not?
Why do I…because I care about you! Yes, I got massively pissed off a few minutes ago, but I don’t want you to get hurt, and if you leave with Gigantor here, that’s a real possibility. Look. We don’t have to talk the rest of the night. We’ll sit in opposite corners and ignore each other. But please please please don’t go. Not now.
Edvin is messing around in the closet again. They watch him pull a hanger off the clothes bar and shove it into his bag. What the fuck does he need a hanger for?
Jenny turns back to Nick. Her eyes are full of tears.
I just want it to be over, she whispers.
Oh honey, I know. He cups her face with his hands. So do I, and I am so sorry it isn’t. But leaving right now isn’t the answer. People die doing dumb shit like what he’s about todo.
I know, I know, I just…she steps back and covers her face, shaking her head.
But she’s staying. He can tell.
Thank Christ, she’s staying.
Is time, Edvin says. Is…
He picks up the wet towels and holds one out to each of them. They shake their heads.
We go now, Edvin insists.
We’re staying, Jenny tells him. You should stay, too.
Edvin stares at her. He tries to speak, but he’s lost his words again. He pulls her phone out of his pocket, types, then speaks. He turns the phone toward them.
Please come, the phone says. My English isn’t good. It’s too risky to go alone.
It’s too risky, period, Nick says. Which is why we’re not going.
Edvin throws his hands in the air. He taps the phone and speaks rapidly. He turns it to them, but nothing happens. Frustrated, he taps the screen hard and speaks louder.
Hey Edvin? Jenny steps toward him. Can I have my phone back?
No. He frowns at the screen. I keep.
But that’s…you can’t have my phone.
Edvin ignores her. She reaches for it. He holds it away from her.
Nick? Helpme.
Edvin, give her the phone, man. It’s not—
Edvin waves at them to hush as he speaks into the microphone. Then he holds it out to Nick, his round little eyes pleading.
Don’t you want your wife to be safe? the phone says.
Okay, enough. Enough of this erratic presence filling their room with his stress and his demands, ransacking their belongings and beshitting their toilet. If he’s leaving, he should leave.
My wife is perfectly safe at home, Nick says. But she’ll be touched by your concern.
Jenny sighs. For God’s sake, Nick.
Edvin needs a minute to puzzle it out. Then he draws back, looking scandalized.
Shame! His voice is low and righteous. Shame on you!
That’s right, Nick says agreeably. Shame on us. Thanks for stopping by, Edvin. Safe travels.
He opens the door.
Is that what does it—the wide swing of the door, the view of the hall? Hard to say, but something breaks the big man. His panic comes roaring back. He drops his supplies, charges forward.
Then he turns, grabs Jenny’s arm and yanks her through the door.
It’s so unexpected, so sudden and fast that Nick doesn’t react until she’s halfway out. That’s when he lunges, grabbing her other arm and hanging on, but the huge man is strong, so strong, they’re a confused tangle, three bodies half in the room half out, more than half, but he doesn’t have the key this time so he can’t let the door fall closed, they’ll be screwed.
He wedges a foot in the doorway, holding on to her, but she’s slipping away, her blouse is so goddamn slippery, but she can’t go, he’ll hang on, he has to…he’s shouting, thrashing, trying to beat the guy away with his free hand, trying to kick him, but he’s too far away, he can’t get at him properly. Her face is strained and white, they must be hurting her, she’s trying to pull her arm away from Edvin’s grip but she can’t fight him off properly because Nick’s got her other arm, but what can hedo?
What is happening, what is happening, what the fuck can hedo?
She’s struggling, flailing wildly but making no noise. He is, he’s shouting Stop! Stop! Leave her let her go fucking get off her you fucking hollering at the monster, he’s not an idiot baby but a big bald menacing monster.
None of it’s working, though, and his grip is slipping. He can’t hold her. He’s losing her. He’s—
No!
She gasps it out at last, and yanking her arm away from Nick she grabs Edvin’s hand and bites down. She must really tear the shit out of him because he screams and releases her, shoves her away in fact, into Nick, and as the two of them tumble back against the open door Edvin rushes down the hall, wailing and holding his injured hand.
He grows smaller.
He rounds a corner.
He’s gone.