Elevator Operator

A malfunctioning elevator intervenes in the story of the golden calf

One of my nightmares is being inside a plummeting elevator – like this one. I look to the Operator who is studying his instrument panel and rubbing his chin. 

“Haven’t seen this before,” he says, curiously.

“What’s happening?”

“We’ve lost pneumatics.”

“Are we going to crash?”

“No, but we might be stuck at the bottom for a while.”

I am supposed to be heading up Mount Sinai, to Level Four, to catch-up with Moses. I don’t yet know what I’m going to say to him. This is a crucial scene. Aaron just agreed to make the golden calf which leads to the Levites killing about three thousand people. God and Moses are going to talk this over shortly and this my opportunity to intervene, somehow.

But now something is wrong with the elevator and we’re descending rapidly. Through the window, walls of rock are flying upward.

“Pulling the emergency brake. Hang on,” the Operator says. With a loud screech, the elevator slows and stops, and all is now still and quiet. 

The Operator moves to the door and slides it open.

“I’ll go check things out. Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yes, I do.”

The elevator car is wood-panelled, with benches around the perimeter that look like temple pews with soft, red cushions. I suspect the designers took inspiration from the Orient Express. In one corner is the Operator’s station, with a small desk and chair and several controls and indicators. A bank of video monitors shows what’s happening at the base of Sinai. The community is awakening.

I’m curious about what’s outside and move to the doorway. Across from the door is a shear rock face. I step down to the sandy, dirt surface. The elevator seems to be sitting at the bottom of a deep and narrow ravine. I cannot see sky above, just darkness. I walk behind the elevator and see the Operator inspecting machinery.

“The MJ2000 pneumatic oscillating engine,” he says. “The air pump is malfunctioning; we’ve lost pressure. Go to my station and check the on-board indicators.”

I went back inside the elevator car and sat at the Operator’s desk. 

What shall I say to Moses? I need to prepare him for his negotiation with God. Moses talks him out of destroying the entire community, but in return, Moses evidently agrees to kill three thousand of his people. I say evidently as this is not in the text – so I sense an opportunity.

The Operator’s face appears in the window near me.

“What’s the pressure gauge read?”

“About half-way between fourteen and fifteen, but not quite.”

“Fourteen point four, Ok. We need to build-up some pressure. See that lever under the left armrest? Pull that up.”

I pull the lever and the seat back folds down revealing something like a bicycle saddle and pedals.

“Ok, start pedalling!”

As I pedal, I hear hissing sounds and the needle on the gauge begins vibrating.

“This might take a while,” the Operator says. “Why don’t you talk me through your plan.”

My plan. Yes, I need a plan. What shall I say to Moses? Wait, am I talking out loud?

“Yep, loud and clear,” the Operator calls from outside.

When Moses goes back down the mountain, he’s going to smash the stone tablets with the ten commandments and then destroy the calf. He will then call all the Levites together and give the order.

“What’s the gauge read?” he calls from outside.

“Sixteen! It’s moving!”

“That’s good. When it gets to thirty-two, we should be on our way. Keep pedalling. What order?”

“What?”

“You said Moses give the Levites an order.”

While pedalling, I turn to the episode in my notes as I want to get the wording just right. I read out loud to the Operator.

“Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Each of you put sword on thigh, go back and forth from gate to gate throughout the camp, and slay sibling, neighbour, and kin.”

“Gauge?”

“Twenty-one!”

“So, what are you trying to do?”

I want to prevent the massacre, of course – that’s my mission. I’ve tried other ways, like preventing Aaron from building the calf. That didn’t work. Seems the calf gets built no matter what I do.

“Didn’t this all happen a long time ago?” the Operator asks.

“No, it’s happening right now,” I answer, definitively.

“Gauge?”

“Twenty-seven,” I say, somewhat out of breath.

The Operator comes into the car.

“You can stop peddling – have a rest.”

Out of breath and sweating, I sit on the bench and watch the Operator work the controls.

I feel the elevator rise and see the rock walls of the ravine moving past the cabin windows.

I check the video monitors. On one screen, Aaron works on the calf. On another, people prepare food for the celebration – everything is happening too fast. An indicator shows that we’re approaching Level Four, Moses’ camp. I pull a cord, which rings a bell.

“Sorry, can’t stop there, looks like we’re going to the top.”

“The top? The very top?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.”

On the monitors, the calf is completed, people are gathering – the celebrations have begun. 

Please don’t kneel, don’t worship. Perhaps if you just sing and dance and feast nothing bad will happen. I don’t really believe that, though.

The elevator slows and now stops at the top of Sinai. 

Below, the people are gathered around the calf. Some are kneeling, arms raised and singing or shouting, I can’t hear them – I don’t want to hear, yet I must.

“Where’s the sound?” I ask, hesitantly.

The Operator looks at me with compassionate eyes.

“Door opening. Watch your step.”

I step out as the sound comes on, blaring out of loudspeakers and echoing across the grey, clouded, rumbling sky. Now I can hear what they are shouting as they kneel around the golden calf. All can hear. And while, in principle, I am about to come face to face with God, my attention is fixed on those below, who are, in this moment, with these words, sealing their violent fate.

“This is your God, O Israel, who brought you out of the house of bondage!”

Afterword. In the middle of this scenario, H found himself within a violent fantasy. He was in a gym class with a sadistic gym teacher who told a student to run down the bleachers. The student fell and was injured. H attacked the teacher, punching him to the floor, kicking him, yelling at him, accusing him of knowing the student would get hurt, and then ordering him to run down the bleachers himself, right now. The experience was vivid and violent. H’s heart was racing.