In truth I found myself upon the brink of an abyss, the melancholy valley containing thundering, unending wailings. That valley, dark and deep and filled with mist, is such that, though I gazed into its pit, I was unable to discern a thing.

~The Divine Comedy, Inferno, Canto IV

 When Jim came to, he was suspended in an absolute darkness. He was lying on his side, impeded from moving by solid objects on both sides and the heavy, crinkly solution he was surrounded by. His legs and torso were both strapped down as though he were tied animal, making movement of more than a few inches impossible. He screamed for help…none came. He wondered for a moment if this was what his eternity would consist of. It was uncomfortably cold and disconcerting to be stuck in his position…a few minutes passed before he could spot a tiny light trickling in between the pieces of what he now understood to be sheets of paper. He called out, then heard a scratching a few feet away and the opening of a door.

“Jim! You’re up…I was wondering when you’d decide you had enough beauty sleep.” It was Michael, who was now removing the pile of paper from atop his body. “The backseat was barely big enough for you, Jimbo…had to make sure you were all buckled in, too!” Working the latch of the buckle, Jim extricated himself from the tiny backseat of Michael’s Sebring and picked a few of the spare papers up off the ground. He took a glance to see just what Michael had wasted so many trees writing and throwing on top of him in the back of the car. A Pollok and his drill instructor are skydiving….A priest, a minister and a rabbi were playing golf….What do you call a…? “Jokes, Michael? Why did you write so many jokes out?” He couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“It’s for the comedy! I needed to pull out my best material for this one!”

“Comedy?” He furrowed his brow in mock questioning.

“Yes, Jim…comedy! Didn’t you ever read Dante Al-legory’s Divine Comedy in college?,” Michael responded, eager to make Jim understand what he clearly pictured in his mind.

“Umm, first off, it was Dante Alighieri, and second, Michael, comedy then didn’t mean it was supposed to be funny.”

Michael looked up at him, insult written on his face. “Well, that’s retarded! Why would they call it a comedy then?” A realization dawned on him. “That explains why I didn’t get the lead role when I tried out for it with the traveling theatre…I was ahead of my time!” He waved his finger as though he’d just solved a complex equation, smiling broadly.

Jim was still puzzled as to where Michael was going with this. “So what does that book have to do with what we’re doing? Dante wasn’t dead during the book.”

Michael looked at him sternly, then quickly said, “Oh, you’re not dead. I got you pretty good though, didn’t I?” At that, he started giggling uncontrollably.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for anything Michael had plotted, yet still Jim felt as though a huge weight had been removed from his shoulders. He heaved a massive sigh of relief and managed to pull his shaky hands out of his pockets, exaggeratedly checking that they were intact. Still, he wasn’t sure whether this was simply a strange dream or a very abnormal reality. Right now though, he really wished he had read all of the Divine Comedy instead of the bare minimum needed to pass the weekly quizzes his Lit class took on it. He knew there was the Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise but he was clueless as to what to expect and how this was all related to him. As his eyes adjusted to the low light levels around him, he could make out a sign saying “Pennsylvania Anthracite History Museum and Coal Elevator.” He was thinking that if Michael weren’t so crazy as to be harmless, he’d worry more about someone dragging him out to an abandoned tourist attraction in the middle of the night.

Michael’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “So, buddy, are we going to go in or what?”

“It’s closed, Michael. I’m not sure they’ll be open til next spring, in fact.”

“Oh, I know they’re open. I have some connections with the guy who runs the elevator…my cousin painted his aunt’s house a few years ago. He owed me a favor so he said he’d leave the rear entrance unlocked.”

Jim rolled his eyes at Michael’s implicit trust of just about everyone. “I guess that means we have go through the back door then.”

Michael didn’t miss a beat in firing out a quick, “That’s what she said!” Jim could only shake his head as they circled the building and found the door in question. Michael grabbed the handle and it turned easily, the door opening with a metallic croaking sound to reveal, shockingly, a warmly lit vestibule leading to an open atrium flanking the elevator shaft. As they stepped inside, Jim could faintly hear a dull pounding in the distant underground…perhaps the mine was still in operation despite the museum being closed.

Giddily, Michael strode toward the elevator door and implored Jim to follow him. He pointed toward a sign that stated “Abandon all your cell phones, cameras and other personal and digital devices, all who plan on entering here.” Jim took his phone from his pocket while Michael removed a phone, camera, pager, laser pointer, Groucho glasses, fake teeth, three decks of cards, and two rubber chickens from his seemingly bottomless pockets, depositing them in the makeshift bin to his right.

Once inside, Jim glanced around the contraption…it looked like something you’d see in a 1930s film. The buttons were antiquated and he could see the guide wire above them as well as the walls through the heavy iron slats that boxed in the platform. He wondered whether the thing would even hold their weight. “Hey Michael, isn’t there another elevator we could take?”

“Umm, nope. My friend told me to take this one cause he left it unlocked…I like to think of it as the scenic route into the mine. It‘s more aesthe-nicaby pleasing.” He flipped a lever, causing the machine to screech and roar in its attempt to dislodge itself from the resting place that Jim figured had to have been its home for the last ten years.

“Ok…is it possible your friend is a murderer only trying to lure us into his dungeon to torture us? Cause I’ve seen that in tons of movies.” He smirked as the elevator began to lurch downward. Their slow descent was accompanied only by the chirping of the wheel as it turned on the rusted wire, lunging and croaking its way through the shaft. After several minutes of that sickening serenade, Jim was relieved when the platform stopped. The two men stepped out onto a rock platform facing a heavy iron door. Michael moved forward, pulling a shiny brass key from his pocket and inserting it into the lock on the door. The door opened very smoothly, considering its condition, and Jim stepped across the threshold into a place that looked as normal as a large open space could look when buried 200 feet underground.

The place appeared to be rather idyllic, really…the light looked almost natural, with large fluorescent receptacles dangling from brand new chains on the ceiling. Somehow, they’d managed to get birds in there…he could hear the sweet call of a cardinal in the distance as the robins performed their ceremonial dance across the grass in front of a row of buildings. He could even see a small stream flanked by a pair of stately elms off to his right next to the wall. There were five buildings placed on each side of a central street, paved in brick and surrounded by a smooth sidewalk that Michael led him down. The smell of baking pastries permeated throughout the entire space and a glance in the first shop window confirmed the source of the pleasing aroma. They continued down the sidewalk to the third building.

“Well, this is our stop, Jimbob. Shall we go in?” He motioned toward the door, which he grabbed and held as both the men entered. After a short walk down a hall and up one flight of stairs, they came to a door labeled DUNDER MIFFLIN. Jim couldn’t recall being in any Dunder Mifflin office that looked like this…he grabbed the door handle and started to walk in, only to run straight into a solid wall that formed the top half of the door. Michael burst out laughing, calling out, “Silly! You have to go under that! Why do you think they call it L- well, never mind.” Jim watched as Michael leaned his torso backward and waddled under the door, while he himself chose to just duck under.

Inside, they found an exact replica of the Dunder Mifflin Stamford office, replete with his entire stable of coworkers. They were all busily tapping away on their computers as some pleasing jazz music played over the speakers. First to spot them was Karen, who excitedly jumped from her chair and walked briskly to them. She seemed to be smiling, and her warm exclamation of “Jim!” made him wonder whether she was just playing with him. Soon the entire crowd of his current office mates had surrounded the two. Andy Bernard’s familiar “Tuna!” greeting drowned out the “Hi James” from Tony Gardiner, a cool “Hello Jim" from Hannah, and a chorus of words from the rest of them.

“See, Karen, I told you Tuna would be joining us,” Andy arrogantly remarked to Karen. “Josh said he could be the number 2 man here in this branch pretty soon.”

“Just where is Josh?,” Jim couldn’t resist asking.

“Oh, he had to step out for a while. We’re not sure when he’ll be back,” came the reply from his heavyset office friend, Tony. “So are you staying? This place is pretty awesome, isn’t it? I don’t know that I’d want to leave…”

Jim was trying to pay attention to the harried words of his all-too-excited coworkers but his mind was drifting as he looked around the office. It wasn’t exactly as it had appeared when he first entered. For starters, all the doors were half the size that they should have been, with the top halves fused to the wall with large steel plates. Wonder what’s up with that?, he thought. Seems pretty inconvenient. He watched as Tammy, the Stamford receptionist, contorted her body backward to go under the door much as Michael had done when they came in.

“Pretty nice touch, huh?” Michael had noticed the same act. “I thought it was appropriate.” He nudged Jim in the side and winked. Suddenly it dawned on him. Limbo. The first circle of Hell. Leave it to Michael to take things literally. He laughed lightly and rolled his eyes.

He stepped away from the sphere of his boss’s needling to take in the rest of the office where he’d spent so much time in the last six months. Strolling slowly, he glanced at the walls; at the paintings which framed the space between each window. They looked to be watercolors of a somewhat familiar style. He stopped at the one overhanging his desk and drank it in. It was very simple, yet he felt a strange, comfortable connection with it. It was sort of an odd painting to be placed in an office…a brightly colored Christmas star silhouetted against a dark green background. He smiled as he recalled a different time and place…

“C’mon Pam, just let me do it…I can just reach up and put it right on and be done with it.” He reached for the shiny gold electrified object.

She pulled it away greedily. “No, Jim. I told you…my brothers never let me put the star on top of the tree before, so I want to do it now.” He knew if she kept smiling at him like that, he’d never tell her no…to anything, ever again.

Michael had insisted on a real tree that year. Four weeks before Christmas. No one had volunteered to come in the day after Thanksgiving to decorate it and Michael had insisted that it be done in time for the following Monday‘s “Rein-deer hunting season celebration.“ It was before Ryan started working in the office, so as usual, he assigned the task to Pam. And as usual, he had volunteered to give her a hand so that she could get out in time to join Roy for his family’s day after Thanksgiving party. Right now, they were engaged in a playful argument over who would put the final decoration atop the tree.

“Well Pam, if you insist…I’ll go grab the ladder.” He turned and started to walk toward the utility closet.

“No, just give me a boost here…I can almost reach.”

He stood in stunned silence for a brief moment before turning around. “Are you sure? I mean…”

“What, are you scared of me or something? Not like I'm sick or something.“ She raised her eyes in mock challenge. “Well, unless you’re worried you can’t lift me. Roy says-,” she began, turning her eyes toward the floor.

“Alright,” he quickly interrupted. He had Pam all to himself for a few hours…no need to ruin it by talking about Roy and his callous comment about her putting on a few pounds that he‘d heard several times before. “But don’t be surprised if I have to call in sick with the cooties on Monday.” Her little giggle warmed his heart as it usually did and he stepped toward her. “You ready?”

“Yep.” She stood braced, feet close together and hands outstretched with star in hand as he placed his hands on her waist. The sweater she was wearing rode up on her stomach, and his grip allowed him to feel her soft skin beneath his thumb and index finger. He sensed her stomach muscles tighten slightly as his fingers slid into place for support and his thumbs around her back. I can’t believe this is happening, he thought. He hoped she’d pass off the slight trembling in his hands as he hoisted her into the air as simply strain from lifting, but truth be told, he’d have mustered the strength to lift her a thousand times if she’d wanted him to. Pam deftly placed the decoration onto the top branch of the tree and within seconds, he had placed her back on the ground. To his surprise, she turned and traced her finger quickly across his chest. “You’re so strong,” she said with a giggle. “Just so lanky and…strong.” She pushed her tongue between her teeth and continued, “I bet the girls love when you pick them up like that.” He thought he could see a slight blush on her face as she realized how she’d come off, and he was certain that if he could just freeze this moment in photo form and keep looking at it forever, he would.

“Yep Beesly, they do.” He couldn’t resist teasing her with a wink. “Now, let’s plug this thing in to make sure it looks ok so we can get out of here.”

He was jarred from his daydream by the sound of Michael’s voice. “Earth to Jim! Is anybody in there?” He was waving his hand in front of his face.“Oh, yeah, sorry Michael. What’s up?”

“We need to get going, Jimbo. We got promises to keep, and miles to go before we sweep.” He was moving his arms in a broom-like motion, oblivious to his own error, and Jim wasn’t about to spend the time to explain it to him.

“Alright.” He walked back to the group of his coworkers. “Hey guys, listen, we have to get going…”

Karen looked deflated. “You mean you’re not staying?”

Michael intervened before Jim could speak. “He can’t, Karen. We’ve got to get to Scranton before sunup.”

She looked puzzled. “Where’s Scranton?” Were these people living under a rock? How could they not know about the merger?, Jim wondered.

Michael looked slyly back at her and broke into a grin. “You’ll never know.” With a wink, he grabbed Jim’s wrist and pulled him toward the exit. Andy’s slap on the back and “Later, Tuna” as they ducked under the door and slammed it behind him were the last things he had a chance to take in until they were safely out of the building. Quickly they made their way through the street and back out the iron door, standing on the elevator platform again as the door shut with a loud thud.