Ceiling Guy

There’s a man trapped in my ceiling. I don’t know how he got there. I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for work when I heard a faint voice. I stopped, listening for the TV in the lounge room, but it was off. Then I heard the voice again.

“Hello down there.”

I stopped brushing. “Hello,” I said. Silence. I felt silly talking aloud to myself. I spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out my mouth.

“Hey, you, look up here.”

The voice was much louder. I looked up. Staring back down at me through the air vent I could see a face in the darkness. This scared me more than I wanted to let on, so I acted a bit tough, like I dealt with people in ceilings all the time.

“Fuck you pal, hiding in my ceiling. Get the fuck out of there.”

“Hey, don’t blame me, I don’t know how I got here. Do you think I like hanging out in ceilings watching guys brush their teeth?”

He had me there. I wouldn’t like being in a ceiling. It was probably really dusty and dark and full of mouse shit up there.

“What do you mean you don’t know how you got there?”

“I just don’t. Can you help me down?”

“I don’t have a ladder.”

“Oh.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. I felt bad I didn’t have a ladder. But then who has ladders in a small, one bedroom apartment? I felt angry at this ceiling guy for making me feel bad. But then I felt bad for him being stuck in the ceiling.

“I tell you what, I’m really running late for work. I’ll go by the super and tell him about you and if he has a ladder, don’t go anywhere.” I rushed out of the bathroom.

The super opened his door. “What do you want?” he said.

“Uh,” I started. I looked at him, 250 pounds of ‘I don’t want to hear any of your shit’ stared back at me. “There’s a guy. In my ceiling. Need a ladder,” I spluttered.

“You want a ladder, call the fire brigade.” With that, he slammed the door shut.

I looked down the hallway, it looked like the building was empty, everyone here had already gone to work. My apartment didn’t have a phone, and I had left my cellphone at the office the day before, which is kind of why I was late, I hadn’t set my alarm.

I walked out onto the street. An old lady was walking past so I walked up to her.

“Hi there, hi. How’s it going, nice day huh? Um.”

She stared at me, her hand edging into her purse. I forged on. “I was wondering if you could help me, you see there’s this guy in my ceiling.”

She brought her hand out of her purse, I was surprised it was empty, but not as surprised as I was when she slapped me across the face with it and ran down the sidewalk. For a senior citizen, she sure packed a punch.

Still in a daze and holding a hand to my cheek, I don’t see the police car pull up beside me. A young officer gets out and comes up to me.

“You alright?” he asks.

I’m staring at him. Finally, someone to help. “Yes, I’m fine thanks. Look you’re just in time. There’s this guy in my ceiling I need to help.”

The officer is staring off after the old woman. “Did I see that lady hit you?” he said.

“Oh, that? Um, yeah. Maybe. Look, the issue is my apartment. There’s this guy, he’s in the ceiling and my super is being a dick and I tried to get that woman’s phone because mine is at work, and I’m late for work and there’s this guy, you know. In my ceiling. Can you get him out for me?”

The officer is staring at me. “Look, did that punch knock you around some? I can call an ambulance if you like. Do you want to press charges?”

“No, no, I”m fine. I just, I just need a ladder is all.”

“You want a ladder, call the fire brigade.”

The siren on the car went off. The officer still behind the wheel honked the horn.

“Come down to the station this afternoon and I’ll write up a statement for you,” said the young officer. He jumped back into the car and drove off.

The bus going to the city pulls up. I take a quick look back at my building, but I have to catch this bus, or otherwise catch the long slow bus that stops at every stop. Then I’ll be really late for work. I get on and sit on a window seat. It’s a pretty long ride, and lots of people get on and off next to me. I clear my throat a couple of times and start to ask to borrow their phones, but before I can say hardly anything it’s like I’ve just thrown up over their shoes and they jump up and get off at the next stop. I realise I can’t tell anyone about the ceiling guy. It’s just too weird. Maybe he wasn’t there at all. Maybe I just imagined it because I’m stressed and I’m worried about my phone and my job and Riniko who always leaves the TV on. I keep thinking about the guy in my ceiling. I hope he’s alright up there. I’ll bring some food back for you ceiling guy. We’ll be fine.