The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 - Иван Перепелятник

New York without Central Park was like admitting the possibility of retail space development in the Kremlin ensemble in Moscow. The shortage of a priceless asset—land in Manhattan—was made up by resorting to the latest engineering technologies and achievements. Skyscrapers were getting higher, and the underground urban infrastructure has been developed more actively.

New York had long came back into game stealing the leadership from St. Petersburg in Europe as the city with the tallest buildings in the world, holding the first three prizes over the past 15 years.

One kilometer and 276 meters—a seven-year project for the construction of the tallest building on the planet had been completed, finally determining the primacy of New York in this category.

The underground New York was also growing dynamically. The architectural projects implemented below the overground city line were gaining awards repeatedly at distinguished international competitions. The urban infrastructure was going down and down underground, forming a new urban culture and lifestyle. One of the defining conditions for such a transformation of urban development was primarily the economic factor. The inhabitants of New York underground levels were far from the most well-off residents. The city administration was trying to smooth out any hints about their social status.

All the details were important. Even with such a minor thing as the levels numbering, a mirror approach was adopted: the last level, the deepest, was marked as the first one, and vice versa—the closest to the ground line of the city became the last. Thirty seven levels—such was the depth of the urban infrastructure at the time.

More than 25 million residents of New York and almost 50 million in the agglomeration—the Big Apple has turned into a huge anthill.

Such a change was hardly to be missed. Especially looking from the height of the 67th floor. The city was no longer lying in front of your feet watching it from a bird’s-eye view. They have witnessed the transformation of the New York architecture, when its historical center was treated with respect, shifting the accents of modern high-rise buildings to areas that used to be called the periphery.

Mary liked watching from the windows of her house the changes in the urban landscape, the birth of new giants of glass and concrete. She liked to pick up binoculars and used to spend time looking at the construction of high-rise buildings on the horizon.

Meryl and Lewis loved New York. Their children were raised there, their grandson was growing up, sometimes visiting his grandparents. It was there that they made their careers—she as an art critic on modern painting, and he as a financial broker. There they felt at home and safe.

Smiling, Meryl looked down at the 57th Street—the city was coming to life, busy with morning chores.

‘Enjoy your meal, Lewis. I’ll see you in… an hour and a half,’ checking the time, Meryl went to clean herself up.

Walk

Walking at a fast pace as always, Lewis and Mary headed towards the park. They liked to combine chatting about nothing and near-athletic fitness session.

‘How’s your book going on?’ asked Meryl, crossing the street and looking around.

‘You know, Meryl, it’s much more complicated and much slower than I would have thought,’ Lewis replied. ‘I understand the general structure, I understand the characters’ personalities, I want to make the story about. I’ve already jotted down a couple of chapters. But what doesn’t work for me at all so far is the beginning. I don’t understand how to plot this whole story. And in general, I’d say this writer’s business is a much more difficult job. Sit down, write, Pulitzer… Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.’

‘It always seems easy when we stand by and watch someone working.’

‘Understanding the truth does not make the tempting mirage of self-deception less tempting, Meryl.

It’s so nice to believe that so easily pictured achievements of the series heroes or feats of the brave in popular novels you could repeat without much effort in your own life.’

‘There is definitely no reason for you to be mistaken about this, given your experience in business. Your company showed results above the market by 15–20 points. Did such indicators come easily for you? I have slightly different memories of this period of our life.’

‘Devote your life to what you really like, professionalism, diligence and continuous

development—the secret of success known to everyone but, in fact, an absolutely useless program of action.’

‘I’m afraid, Lewis, there’s no need for such complexities for most of us at all. Why overcome our fears and weakness, why do real work on ourselves, force ourselves to do something, go somewhere, read something… often we are not ready even for minimal restrictions in our own interests. So how many pages have you written already?’

‘About 15…’ Lewis smiled and they both laughed.

Meryl and Lewis came up to the first lake on one of their standard walking routes in the park. There have been several of these developed over the years. Depending on the entry point, the weather, the mood, the crowd—all the reasons for choosing the optimal path were taken into account and thought out.

‘D’you remember, Meryl, that we have an anniversary this year?’

‘Which one?’ Meryl looked at her husband.

‘The anniversary of our life together with you, dear. And the wedding anniversary.’

‘Oh, my God. I forgot, of course! And why are you talking about it so much in advance?’

‘I thought that we should celebrate such a significant anniversary in a special way?’

‘And how long have we been married, dear?’

’It will soon be 75 years!’

‘My God! Who would have thought that we would put up with each other for so long! Such relationships are not at all in favour among young people today—no one would live more than one year together,’ Meryl smiled. ‘On the other hand, I’m surprised that you keep in mind all this. As the Washington Post called you: The first