The Door Lock

I pressed the keys on the pad. Several times. It seemed to have taken longer, and my fingers were shaking. The moderate pressure would usually release the lock. It would take only a push on the knob, down and forward, and the door would open. Today, it did not work out that way. After a few attempts, I was standing puzzled, still on the outside, trying to think about the reason for the mystery of the unyielding door lock. I was certain the code was correct. They have not changed the numbers, otherwise I would have been given a new one. Was I? For a few moments, I tried to recall something I must have missed in my inbox.

They would have sent this message several times. The message with the subject typed in block letters a word ‘IMPORTANT’ in the opening, and an exclamation point at the end to attract attention. I have received none of those messages. While contemplating the issue, a person approached the door. I watched him key in the same numbers and enter. After a moment or two, I should try again. Of course, I shall have waited for twenty seconds to allow him to go up the stairs, and then enter myself. So, I did. I waited. I pressed the numbers, but they did not release the latch. The thought that holding my breath would have done the trick prompted another attempt. I keyed the numbers in with the focus and a vigorous jolt sent through the tip of the fingers. Same numbers as before, the same numbers prompted by a man who entered only a minute before. I exhaled and grabbed the doorknob. Down and forward it goes, and… nothing. I stayed outside, and the door stayed locked.

Now, I had to admit, the situation was certainly turning into a mystery. When I failed to enter at the first or the second trial, it was an omission. I did not apply the force when I pushed the keys; I did not apply the pressure necessary for moving the lever and releasing the lock. However, when another person entered the same code and got inside, I regarded the issue with suspicion.

It progressed from a technical to an entirely metaphysical problem. Tangible laws of physics gave way to presumptions that were religious, but not altogether defined and clear. I was staring at the door. It turned into a conundrum that was unnecessary and ridiculous. The code that failed to work for me, and me only, did not pose a challenge for those that were already inside the building. It was a humiliating show off exhibited by-I could not even pronounce this. The idea of interference from ‘above’ or ‘celestial powers’ has entered my mind without deliberation. They brought a frown on my face, and I declared the thoughts of divine intervention blasphemous. What could be the reason for unexpected and annoying difficulties with the entry code? The memory of an episode of a Twilight Zone sneaked in. What if this was a warning? The character in the episode was late for a flight and fought desperately to board the plane. In the next segment, he was standing at the gate frustrated by the failed attempt to go through, only to learn that the plane crashed a few minutes after the take-off.

I was standing at the door that I could not open reflecting on this old tv story while other people were successfully going through with the code that did not work for me. The event has taken over twenty minutes. A few children were looking at me curiously and offered to let me in. I waved away refusing any help. They continued to gawk at me, snickering and pushing each other with elbows. This has been even more annoying than the door that stubbornly rejected the entry code I keyed in.

I walked away. It is difficult to describe how it felt; the bizarre event that did not prompt any need to reflect on it further. Once I left, I did not feel the urge to dwell on it. I just accepted it as an obscure occurrence that spoiled my plans to be at that place on that morning.

It meant that I could just go elsewhere. Maybe to a different door that would not need the entry code to open; unjustly discriminate against those who tried to get in. I would be even more comfortable with the concierge; the one who takes a measure of the visitors and politely opens the door or stands on guard and asks about the purpose of their visit.

I have not returned to the building with the unyielding door since that morning. I plan to do so later in the week. If I cannot enter, I am going to raise hell. I am going to bang on the door and yell at the person who opens it. How difficult can it be to keep the door lock in order?