MOURNING SKY

Our Chapter of the Month for September takes us back to one of the most terrible events in recent history, a date none of us will ever forget. Yet, in the midst of tragedy, in the most unlikely of places, two people find each other and, in defiance of all the odds, love somehow triumphs.


Tracey liked to get into the office early, especially on Tuesdays when they had the weekly departmental meeting. The extra time meant she could check over the reports, be ready for all the awkward questions the boss asked. She smiled, feeling well prepared, she’d gone through the Period 8 month-end figures with a fine-toothed comb, she was ready for anything. Maybe today she might impress him enough to be able to mention promotion again. But then, who was she kidding? Sure, she deserved it, she knew she did, he’d as much as admitted it last year; but a Black woman on the board of directors? It might be 2001, but there was still a long way to go before women like her got a fair chance in the corporate world.

She gazed out the window. It was a beautiful day. Summer was clinging on a little longer this year. She sighed, why did she have to fight for equality? Why wasn’t it automatic, like it ought to be? She saw Steve Harris step out of the lift. He was in early too. She knew he was after the same slot on the board. It made her angry, Harris was nearly ten years her junior, he’d been with the firm just five years, next to her eighteen, but he was White, he was male, and there was every chance she’d be calling him ‘sir’ before long. It made her want to spit.

“Morning, Tracey,” he said, bustling past on the way to his desk.

“Morning Steve,” she smiled back. Well, she shrugged inwardly, she could be as two-faced as anyone if she had to. She glanced at the wall clock: 8:45, the boss would be here soon. Something outside caught her eye. She walked towards the windows, for once not really looking at the magnificent view of Manhattan spread out beneath her, but focussing instead on the object that had caught her attention.

“Jesus, that’s flying low,” said Steve, walking up to stand beside her.

“Yeah, crazily low,” she agreed, staring at the Boeing 767 flying over the Hudson. Suddenly, it began to bank, altering course towards them, “Shit, it’s heading for the city, they’re gonna hit something if they’re not careful.”

He took her arm and pulled her back, “It’s heading for us. We’d better get away from the window.”

They backed slowly away together, transfixed with horror, mesmerised by the sight of the approaching airliner. As it grew closer, it filled the entire window before them. Tracey put her hand to her mouth, expecting to scream, but too petrified to make a sound. She thought the plane was going to hit directly where she stood on the ninety-ninth floor but, at the last moment, it seemed to dip beneath them.

The floor shook violently. Steve held onto her, saved her from falling as the building shuddered. A thunderous roar came from under their feet. “It’s hit a few floors below us,” he said.

“What do we do? Should we call 9-1-1?”

“I think they’ll know already. We need to get out, fast as we can. Come on, we’ll have to use the stairs. We can’t chance the elevators.”

He led the way to the staircase and they started making their way down, but they had only descended two floors when thick black smoke started billowing up towards them. The heat was intense, there must be an inferno raging below.

“It’s no good, we’ll have to go back up,” Steve was coughing, his eyes streaming from the acrid smoke.

She nodded, “We should head for the roof. Maybe they can airlift us off?”

“Maybe,” he nodded back; “I can’t think of anything better, anyway.”

As they made their way upwards, they were joined by others. Everyone was terrified and confused as they slogged up the stairs. Occasionally they saw someone trying to go down. Most turned back when they explained the heat was too intense, but one or two insisted on carrying on. “They’ll soon find out for themselves,” Steve shrugged.

Tracey watched the floor numbers as they passed, trying to take her mind off the horror of their predicament. “Does anyone have any idea what happened?” asked a man who joined them as they passed the sign for ‘102’; “I was in the john, I didn’t see anything, but I felt the building shake; then I heard an enormous explosion.”

“It was a plane, a big airliner, crashed into the building,” said another man.

“Jesus,” said the first, “was it an accident?”

“What else could it be?”

“It was deliberate,” said Steve, “they aimed straight at us, even banked towards us a minute before they hit.”

“Who would do such a thing?” exclaimed Tracey.

“Terrorists, I guess.”

“But it would be suicide.”

“It’s not unheard of,” Steve shrugged, “the Japs used to do it in the war.”

“Yeah, them kamikazes,” said the man from floor 102.

As they passed the sign for ‘105’, a woman with a cell phone joined them, she was in mid conversation with someone. “Do you know what’s going on outside,” Tracey asked.

“The building’s on fire from 93 to 98. Firefighters have arrived, they’re starting to work their way up. The news is speculating whether it was an accident or a terrorist attack, but no-one seems to know anything.”

“What about us; the people trapped above the fire, is there any word about a rescue?”

The woman shrugged, “Nothing yet.”

A minute later there was another explosion, but it was more distant, there was only a mild tremor, nothing like the violent shudder they’d felt before.

“What was that?” asked Tracey.

The woman on the cell phone stared at her, mouth agape, a look of horror on her face. “They... they... they’ve hit the south tower, another, er... another plane, same... same as us,” she stammered.

“That clinches it,” said Steve, “it’s gotta be terrorists.”

“Oh my God,” Tracey put her hand to her mouth, “we’re under attack.” 

Something snapped inside her. She’d been holding herself together up to now but, suddenly, the strength disappeared from her legs and she collapsed onto the concrete stairs. Burying her head in her hands, she began to cry. “We’re gonna die,” she sobbed.

She felt strong, comforting arms around her, as Steve pulled her back to her feet, “Come on, Tracey, we’ll make it. We’ve just gotta stick to the plan. We’re nearly at the roof, they can lift us off by helicopter, we’re gonna be fine. Come on,” he took her hand and smiled, “let’s go.”

Looking into his eyes, she tried her best to smile back. “OK,” she nodded.

They climbed the last few floors together, coming to a halt at the back of a group gathered next to the ‘110’ sign: the top floor.

“We can’t get out, the door’s locked,” said the man from 102.

“Can we force it?” asked Steve.

“Naa, solid steel,” the man shook his head

“Does anyone have any tools, a gun maybe?” 

No-one answered. Someone pushed open the door to the hundred and tenth floor and they all started filing through. “Alright, come on,” said Steve, leading Tracey by the hand, “maybe we’ll find something in here we can use to help us get to the roof.”

*

Steve used everything he could lay his hands on: chair legs, parts of door frames, knives, an old .38 revolver he found in a desk... with no bullets. After half an hour battling with the door, he collapsed exhausted, coughing in the intense heat of the thick black smoke rising up the staircase. Tracey put her hand on his shoulder, “You tried your best, Steve, more than anyone. Come back down, Stavros has knocked out a couple of windows, the air’s better on 110. Geraldine says no one’s coming anyway, it wouldn’t make any difference if we got on the roof.” 

Coughing and spluttering, he followed her back down to the floor below. The tiles beneath their feet were hot, but not so bad you couldn’t walk on them. Everyone was gathered by the windows, staring at the south tower burning next to them. “That’s what it’s like under us,” muttered Stavros, the man from 102.

Geraldine, the woman with the cell phone, was handing it around, giving everyone a chance to speak to their loved ones, or at least leave a message.

“You got anyone you want to talk to?” asked Tracey, looking at Steve.

“Not really,” he shook his head as he slid slowly down the wall opposite the windows, until he was sitting on the floor, “only my parents, but they’re on vacation in Hawaii. They don’t have a cell, so...” he shrugged; “what about you?”

“Momma died last year, Poppa deserted us when I was three, I ain’t seen him since.”

“What about your husband?” he nodded at the ring on her finger

“Huh,” she grunted, following his gaze, “I wear this to avoid unwanted attention but, truth is,” she pulled off the ring and threw it towards one of the knocked-out windows, “the bastard left me for a younger model five years ago.”

“His loss,” he replied, as she sat on the floor next to him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes then he said, “I turned him down, by the way.”

“Who? Who did you turn down?”

“Gibbs, the boss; he offered me the seat on the board last night. I thought you knew, he told me you did.”

“Bastard!” she exclaimed; “I fucking knew it! But why did you turn him down?”

“I told him it should be yours. You’d earned it. I said I could wait another couple of years for my turn, it was only fair you got it first. After all, you practically run the place.”

She turned and looked him in the eyes, “I owe you an apology.”

“Why?”

“I’ve misjudged you, I thought you were an arrogant, White, male chauvinist pig, like all the others. But you’re not. You’re a good guy, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, “you weren’t entirely wrong. I can be a bit arrogant sometimes. And I am White and male... but I can’t really help that.”

She smiled back, “No, I guess you can’t. I suppose that makes me the one holding on to her prejudices.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t beat yourself up, you’ve got good…” he stopped at the sound of a commotion coming from the people standing by the windows. Some of them began screaming and shouting. “Oh, my God, no,” Geraldine moaned.

He jumped to his feet, pulling Tracey up with him, and they walked across to get a better view. They stared in disbelief as they watched the south tower collapsing before their eyes. The screams subsided, a stunned silence descended on the group.

She put her hand in his, he held it tightly, comforting her with his touch. “Do you think that will happen to us?” she asked.

“No, of course not, er... well,” he swallowed then added, “I don’t know, to be honest.”

They stood in silence for a minute then she asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘his loss’?”

“What?”

“You know, when I told you my husband left me.”

He turned to look at her, “You’re a beautiful woman, Tracey, I’ve always admired you. You kinda remind me of Pam Grier: you know, from ‘Jackie Brown’, the Tarantino movie?”

“I’m a bit younger than her,” she punched him playfully on the arm. “But still a lot older than you, I’m afraid,” she smiled, looking up at him; “thank you, anyway.”

“I mean it. I don’t care how old you are, it doesn’t stop me finding you extremely attractive.”

“Do you? Really? Honestly?”

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded.

She looked down for a minute, then looked up again, gazing into his eyes, “We’re going to die soon, aren’t we?”

“Probably, yes,” he nodded.

“I don’t want to just stand here, waiting for it to happen. Do you think we could find somewhere quiet, just the two of us?”

They went down to 109, found a private office with a couch. They stood in the middle of the room, holding hands. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her. She began pulling off his clothes. “Hurry,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire, “we don’t know how long we’ve got.”

He ripped open her blouse, pulled down her bra, began kissing her nipples, rolling his tongue over them. She arched her back: the pleasure was sensational. She took his hand and led him to the couch. She lay on her back. He knelt above her, pushed up her skirt, pulled down her panties, then bent his head and probed her softly with his tongue. She moaned softly, running her hands through his hair. Lifting his chin, she pulled his face up to hers while she unzipped his flies and reached inside. Guiding him into her, she locked her legs around his waist. “Deep,” she whispered, “come in deep, my love.”

Their bodies locked together, rocking passionately against each other as they soared heavenwards with desire. He exploded inside her. A split-second later, she screamed with the ecstasy of her release as she exploded too. She held him tight, feeling the waves of rapture flooding her body. She was floating in a blissful state of sheer joy as she felt the world falling away beneath her and she fell for so very long… until the darkness descended.