Chapter One -- Nine Years Old

 He was small for his age -- one of the smallest in his class.

 When other kids his age messed around and rough-housed and played tricks on people, grownups would laugh and say, "Boys will be boys." But when Mike did, Mom and Dad and his Aunt Maggie and his teacher Mrs. Cutter would all look at him like, "There you go again -- acting like a little kid."
 
 

His three-year-old brother Mark could do absolutely anything and the grownups would smile and clap and say, "What a big boy you are!" But when Mike acted the same, they'd frown at him and maybe punish him and tell him to "act his age."
 
 

He couldn't win. He was always the wrong age for what he wanted to do. He hated being a small nine-year-old. It wasn't fair. After all, nobody ever asked him how old he wanted to be or how big he wanted to be -- it just happened to him.
 
 

At supper, his Mom and Dad would tell him, "Now eat up so you can grow big and strong." And he'd tell them, "Sure and look what eating for nine years has done for me."
 
 

Sometimes he wouldn't eat supper, and they'd send him off to bed for punishment.
 
 

So what if he was growing slowly, he thought. Big deal.

 Sometimes he would stare at the doorpost with the marks that showed how he had grown and try to remember what it was like to be little, as little as baby Mark, so little he could get away with anything.
 
 

One day Aunt Maggie drove him into the city to a high-rise apartment house and asked him to deliver a note to her friend Mrs. Grant.
 
 

Mike had never been in an apartment house that was many stories high. He lived in the suburbs and was just visiting Aunt Maggie for a few days. Of course, he'd been in big buildings and on elevators, but never alone, never alone on an elevator.
 
 

He was shocked when Aunt Maggie asked, "Will you do me a favor? Just run in and take this note up to Mrs. Grant in apartment 3602. I'm not feeling too well today, and I don't want to give her my cold -- she's so frail and gets sick so easily."
 
 

He looked up at the huge high-rise apartment building, and he looked back at Aunt Maggie, standing tall in her high-heeled shoes. He looked back at the building again, straining his neck out the car window, but he couldn't see the top, not matter how hard he tried. It went all the way up to the clouds.
 
 

Aunt Maggie just smiled, "It's very simple, really. You just go inside those big doors over there. You'll see rows of mailboxes with buttons under them. Just push the one marked '3602.' That will make a buzzer sound up in her apartment, and Mrs. Grant will speak to you over the intercom. She'll probably ask who you are. Just tell her your name, and say that you have a note for her from your Aunt Maggie. She'll push a button up in her apartment that unlocks the next set of doors. When you hear a buzz, just pull the door open. The elevator will be right in front of you. Push the 'up' button. The elevator doors will open. When you get inside, push the button marked '36.' Then the elevator will take you to the 36th floor, and the door will open again. Mrs. Grant lives in 3602. It's all very simple, really. All you have to remember is 3602, and that's written right here on the envelope. You're such a big boy, it'll be no problem at all for you."
 
 

Mike was too shocked to protest. The next thing he knew, he was holding an envelope and standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the spot where the building got lost in the clouds.

 He was scared to go into that big building all alone. But he was even more scared to turn around and admit to Aunt Maggie that he was scared. She would make him feel so ashamed and so small. "It's very simple, really," she would say. "After all, you're nine years old. It should be no problem at all for you."
 
 

So he took a deep breath and strode up to the big front doors. He went in, found the button marked '3602,' and pushed it.

 He jumped back when he heard a loud noise like static on a car radio. It sounded like somebody talking, but he couldn't tell who it was or what they were saying. Maybe it was Mrs. Grant.
 
 

So he answered, "Hello, Mrs. Grant. This is Mike, I mean, Michael Kiley. I have a note here for you from my Aunt Maggie. May I come up, please, and give it to you?"
 
 

When he heard a loud buzz, he lunged forward to grab the door. It opened easily, and he walked up to the elevator and pushed 'up.' It was simple, just like Aunt Maggie had said. He was rather proud of himself for doing things so well. He could just imagine telling his friends back at school about this little adventure. But, of course, he'd act like it was no big deal, like he did this kind of thing all the time.
 
 

It took a long while for the elevator to come. He pushed the "up" button half a dozen times, but still the doors didn't open. "Stupid old elevator," he muttered.

 He had done everything just right, but now the elevator wasn't working or was slow. It would take him forever to get to Mrs. Grant's apartment. Aunt Maggie would think he had gotten lost. She would think that he couldn't follow simple directions, or would think he had fooled around and played on the way.
 
 

Finally, the elevator doors opened. The elevator was empty. Somehow he hadn't expected that. Every time he had been on elevators before, he had been with his Mom or Dad or Aunt Maggie, and there had always been other grownups there, too.
 
 

It looked so big and empty. He wondered if the lights would go out when the door shut, like when you shut a car door. He wondered if it really would take him to the right floor after he pushed the button. Maybe it was broken. (It had been so slow in arriving). Maybe it wouldn't know what floor to take him to. Maybe it wouldn't open ever again.
 
 

This stupid note. His stupid aunt.

 He started to turn to run back to the car, but just then the elevator doors started to close; and, without knowing why, he lunged at the opening and fell inside the elevator. The doors slammed shut, just missing his feet.

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