The elevator in Will’s building represents his sense of feeling trapped—trapped by “the Rules” of his violent neighborhood, and trapped in his grief over his brother Shawn’s death. Most of all, Will feels trapped in the irrevocable choice he believes he’s made by stepping into the elevator: once he makes it down to the lobby of his apartment building, he plans to avenge Shawn’s death by shooting Carlson Riggs, who he believes killed Shawn. The sense of claustrophobia and of being stuck that Will feels in the elevator is heightened as ghosts from Will’s past join him, begin smoking in the confined space, and ask Will uncomfortable questions he hasn’t considered: what if he misses? What if he’s after the wrong guy?
The elevator seemingly doesn’t have to carry this connotation, since it becomes breathable again once they finally reach the bottom and the ghosts (and their cigarettes) exit. In this sense, it also represents Will’s ability to choose his fate: to either free himself or remain trapped. Should Will return to his apartment on the top floor without killing Carlson Riggs, the elevator ride back up could potentially symbolize a new future for him. But if he continues out of the lobby and goes to Riggs’s apartment, the confinement represented by the elevator ride he’s just completed will extend to either a jail cell or a coffin—by shooting Riggs, Will is likely to either condemn himself to prison or trap himself in a life that will be cut short when someone else retaliates against him.
The Elevator Quotes in Long Way Down
[...] I thought about this when the man with
the gold chains got on and checked to see if the
L button was already glowing. I wondered if he knew
that in me and Shawn’s world, I’d already chosen to be
a loser.
Then
the bus-stop
lean back
to get a glimpse
of the world.
But the metal barrel
dug into my back,
making me wince,
making me obvious
and wack.
So I explained them to
her so she wouldn’t think
less of me for following
them
[...]
So that she knew I had
purpose
and that this was about
family
and had I known
The Rules when we
were kids I would’ve
done the same thing
for her.
BUT TO EXPLAIN MYSELF
I said,
The Rules are
the rules.
I was only three.
And I don’t remember that.
I’ve always wanted to,
but I don’t.
I so don’t.
I TOLD HIM
about the
drawer,
the gun,
that I did
like he told me,
like Buck told him,
like our grandfather told
our uncle, like our uncle
told our dad.
I followed The Rules.
At least the first two.