Who Are You and Where Am I?

We milled about, glancing upward as you would in an elevator- supposedly transfixed by the changing numbers but really just avoiding eye contact. You aren’t supposed to look at strangers. It’s basic animal survival 101, I guess. You can walk by a bird or an animal but if you turn and look at them, they’re off.

The room was square, about 25 X 25 feet I would say. A single light bulb dangled from a cord that extended into a black infinity. The room contained no furniture, no food and no water. No toilets. No TV. My heart quickened. No smart phone! I patted each of my pockets furiously with no luck. I checked my watch for the time. No watch! My eyes urgently scanned the room. No desk top or lap top computer. We were cut off.

The twelve of us apparently reached this state of panic at about the same time. It appears that common disaster forces bonding, or at least communicating. We looked very different. Men and women. There was one person where that determination was unclear. We differed vastly in age from young adult to the elderly. I surveyed the room for clues.  There was a turban, handlebar moustache, pin-striped suit, tank top, sari, sea horse earrings, and a couple of tattoos. Even the footwear was varied: shiny Oxford leather shoes, loafers, sneakers of various colors and sandals. I could see no pattern or reason why this disparate bunch came together. What an odd lot.  

We began to seek some connections by sharing our stories- superficially at first with just names and occupations. I had to ask for a spelling of some of these names but it seemed to be important to get it right if we were to survive together. The jobs ranged from the ordinary to the unusual:  banker, law student, grocery clerk, cattle rancher, third grade teacher, Rabbi, pediatrician, poet, comedian, nuclear physicist, avian immunologist, and metallurgist.  It didn’t add up for me, but then I was the banker.

After what seemed to be 20 or 27 hours, our teacher asked, “I don’t know how to say this delicately, but I have no need to use the facilities”.  Others agreed though they referred to “facilities” as the loo, restroom, the John, etc. Others then noted that they had no thirst or hunger. Still others said that they were not sleepy. All agreed this state was very, very odd indeed.

With time on their hands, whatever time now meant, the band of twelve went on to describe more personal interests, rituals, hobbies and adventures. Some were obviously involved in exciting pursuits such as skydiving, free climbing and ice boat racing. Some had passionate interests in quilting, stamp collecting and cake decorating.  Others took delight in simply walking in the woods. As each of the twelve explained the joys and excitement of their various activities I listened and I began to understand why I would risk life and climb a mountain without safety ropes or for that matter why I would be excited about finding a rare stamp from Ethiopia printed only for a kings’ family.

After another 9 or 17 days passed, several escape attempts were tried and failed. The walls were too high to scale, even with human pyramid towers. The walls were too high to throw a shoe over to alert some unknown outsiders. Similarly, Morse code tapping on the walls brought nothing. Tunneling was not possible since there were no seams in the walls.  There were even no seams where the walls met the floor. The solid metal interior was impenetrable.

Much speculation was offered regarding the nature of their common imprisonment. The possibility of kidnapping was dropped since there was no request for a ransom note or ransom video. Also, several of the twelve and their family had no money to speak of anyway.

The rancher assumed we were all prisoners of a CIA plot to study the effects of various new chemicals. The lawyer had to admit that was possible given the history of the CIA.  As an extension of this possibility the doctor offered a possible theory- “I bet we are involved in a medical experiment to study near death experience”.  The comedian stood up and added, “Maybe we have been frozen as part of this medical study and we will be thawed.  I may become a puddle soon”.  There was no laugh. “Tough crowd tonight” he concluded.

The Rabbi and poet broached the unspoken, “This is probably Death”. Silence followed as it sank in for the twelve. What if this is it? This is all what it comes to? But without any clear evidence for any of these possibilities, the twelve were left adrift until one day when a rope descended from some unseen point above. Attached was a small metal plate with a button. Above the button on the plate, in capital letters, the instruction read “PRESS FOR RELEASE”.

The rancher rushed forward with finger extended. He was grabbed by the Rabbi who urged caution, asking “Just exactly what is ‘release’?”.  They debated this at length. Release could mean death, whatever that means. Release could be a return to their exact lives, as they were at the moment of capture. Some thought that release might mean they would all be sent on some kind of mission, undefined at this time. And I offered a practical solution. “Maybe we should do nothing and simply stay here for all eternity. After all there are no needs, no illness, no taxes, and no bills”. That seemed to settle things down at least. A decision was postponed for now.

The group sat, stood, walked about.  There was no need to sit or stand or lay down. This movement was all just for variety. Small groups formed at times with talk about ancestors, card games, pet peeves and favorite foods. This appeared to be the fate of the twelve until on day 18 or 47 another rope descended with an envelope attached. The grocery store clerk stepped up and volunteered to open it. Others nodded.

The note was opned with trembling hands. It read, “Thank you for participating in this little experiment. You have all learned to tolerate, connect, empathize, understand and learn from one another. You are the twelve who will go forth and save the people and the planet you profess to love. This is your last chance. Earth will be destroyed by your own hand if you are not successful. No pressure. Goodbye. And thanks for playing”.

With that, my wife handed me the morning paper with the headline, “Oil Prices Plummet”.  I debated about whether to get up and warm my coffee or just drink it as it is.