Three in one by Mikhail Grushevsky

"I don't know if you know that I wandered around the cities
And had no shelter and shelter.
But I was returning, as if home, to the expanse between the sky and the Neva, God forbid me, God forbid me, God forbid me another..."

Bella Akhmadulina


"America's mission is to vulgarize the universe!"

Charles Dickens


Fifty years ago, Antonina Semyonovna instructed me to pull up my classmate Squirrel in mathematics. I began to run to the restless girl after school. In the same days, the younger sister of Belkin's mother jumped out to marry a foreigner. Rita studied hydrography with him. One day at recess, Belka told me that her family used to live in the suburbs. While my grandmother and my fellow student's mother were in the garden, Ritka was spinning at the dressing table. Belkin's aunt stole lipstick from her older sister. Then Belka and her parents moved to St. Petersburg. Ritka was left to help her mother. The girl stretched out, but still dressed in a rustic way. Mom's plush jacket. Felt boots bought in selmag. In this Ritka acted, she also began to dress up for lectures.
After a while, giggles began to be heard behind her. Then she secretly broke her clay piggy bank and changed her shoes. To make the scarce boots-stockings visible, she shortened her skirt. Ritka pulled on this revealing outfit every day, retiring in a cramped cubicle of the institute toilet. Her mother was used to the patriarchal way of life and could not pull such a spectacle. Then the girl cut off an almost meter-long blond braid. The mother was swearing, but how easy it became for Ritka's head! Why didn't she do it earlier? An appetizing peasant woman with a fashionable haircut and in boots-stockings did not remain without attention. And the branded jacket, which was given out to students of the Mining Institute in the mid-seventies, went extremely well for her! Handsome Ayub could not resist. The little white Ritka was quite unlike his swarthy compatriots.
The foreigner was originally from Panama and was preparing to become a specialist in the climate of the Caribbean. The sultry mulatto was not going to stay in the dank St. Petersburg. After graduating from university, he invited the young woman to go with him to Central America. Ritka herself wanted to forget about the eternal slush and endless runny nose as soon as possible. Her soul was asking for the sun. In addition, in the future homeland, the blonde was predicted to be a noisy success with men. But she loved her husband, and he wasn't worried at all: Ritka wasn't going anywhere! But Ayub will have a reliable rear!
The girl notified her family about her departure a couple of days in advance. The mother clutched at her heart, but it was too late. Echoes of family scandals reached me. Selfish! Ritka only thinks about herself: after all, her sister's career may suffer! Belkin's mother was a lady of the "party". Her lamentations are still in my ears: "The sister of an emigrant! Escaped from the Union! With such a stain in my biography, I will fly out of the district committee in no time!" But Squirrel and I were just happy for Ritka. Before, none of our acquaintances had moved beyond the cordon.
After leaving, Rita began to throw parcels at her family. Jeans, a cassette player, a gray wig - we have never seen such a thing! Rod Stewart was wheezing out of the speakers-we didn't hear that. From now on, outlandish postage stamps settled in my collection. A caring Squirrel over the steam peeled them off from envelopes that came from Panama. The stamps told us how people live on the other side of the Earth! The Squirrel did not learn better, but we became close friends with her. Over time, Belkin's mother and grandmother reconciled with the "flight" of the one they still considered a child.
"Well, she's not an enemy of the people! Tea, not the thirties in the yard!" The gray wig was appreciated in the district committee, Ritkin's sister was not kicked out of work, and the Squirrel was even recommended as a pioneer. Once a year, Ritka began to fly to Leningrad to see her mother. She was already starting to pass, and her daughter tried to please her with plump envelopes with "mat help". Ritkin's mother stored them "for a rainy day" in the back drawer of the cupboard and continued to pull her garden alone. The squirrel was "exiled" to help his grandmother every summer. But what kind of help from a schoolgirl?
Belkina's aunt desperately tried to forget the unethical name of her native village - Koltushi! It happened! Here are some of her new friends who were lucky to be born in Nice! When Rita arrived, she presented everyone around with all sorts of things. Gum, decals… To be honest: I also got something! But much more than souvenirs, I was interested in the stories of our foreign courtier. For me, Rita embodied everything unusual, attractive. She has noticeably lost weight and has become uninhibited, like a model from Nevsky. And how she's dressed! What were some suede flared trousers, trimmed with rustling fringe to the very middle of the thigh! The playful nickname "aunt" stuck to her by itself. The squirrel kept up with Ritka on a friendly basis. The same one is very young, ten years older than us! My own aunts were both more serious and more mature ladies. The states seemed like something out of reach. We "discovered America" in the exhibition halls of Leningrad Harbor. It seemed that all the achievements of humanity come to us from the West: "Hollywood", "Mercedes", "Underwood"... Mickey Mouse, jeans, rock and roll… And also - whiskey, jazz, gum! Why did all this seem like a crown of dreams to me? I remember kilometer-long queues for impressions. Soviet people were exposed to everything new. Have we seen much? In the States, probably, everything is not the same as in our country. "Night flight to Venus" - that's how I imagined it. What kind of chicken brain?
And then the Squirrel's three-year-old sister was born - a white one with a swarthy face. The baby was named Anna-Maria, but for the sake of convenience, her mother called her Masha. The name of the foreign son-in-law - Giovanni - his "agricultural" mother-in-law had long ago shortened to Vanya. And what? Giovanni-Joe-Vanya! So Ritka did not call her newborn any other than Mary Ivanna. However, the Panamanians could not pronounce such a complex construction. So the girl turned into Marianne. With Rita, I have repeatedly passed dolls for Masha who grew up in Panama. "Growing up in Panama" - it sounded funny! Twenty years have passed, and after the divorce of her parents, Masha moved to New York. From the very cradle she was shown it in a dream. She believed that the whole quintessence of our civilization was concentrated in this city! Why her Russian-born mother divorced her father, the grown-up Masha did not spread. Instead, she started inviting us to visit.
The millennium was approaching. I never dreamed of taking a ride to America. But the ghost of the trip loomed on the horizon by itself. It turned out that the Squirrel is not up to traveling. By that time, my classmate had blossomed like a rose and had a rich personal life. The former three-year-old then gave birth, then divorced and immediately remarried. She married the captain of the yard football players, then a formidable second-year student. Belka's mother (she is Rita's older sister) did not want to hear about a trip to the States. The mother of Ritka herself is even more so.
I was equipped to visit the American Masha. I just started working at central television, but for this occasion I even moved the airwaves. The silhouette of New York was approaching and mesmerizing. Is our meeting really going to happen in reality? I was not given a visa to America right away. Embassy employees were being questioned: what can keep me at home? Children-parents, movable property-real estate… I could not announce almost anything from this list. "What a dubious type! For nothing from the TV! Won't he stay in the States?"
Rita, who has become almost a relative of mine over the years, came with me. Rather, she met the traveler already on the spot. My aunt rushed to New York from Panama, where she had lived for decades. In her heart, Rita remained the same Russian woman. She missed her daughter terribly. Previously, Panamanian men, expressing approval, clicked their tongues after the foreigner. Ritka looked so exotic that she literally drove hot Latinos crazy. Her husband was silently angry. He groundlessly suspected his wife of infidelity.
Ayub's jealousy irritated the Russian woman, and one day she could not stand it. I packed up and left. Mary Ivanna did not accept this situation, and did not meet with Rita again. Her memory kept ugly scenes, followed by the divorce of her parents. However, inviting me on vacation, Manya thought about it. After all, a guest from Moscow will have to be met! They'll have to do it! And what is his character? Ritka knew me at least partially. Fate was pushing Masha into the arms of her mother!
The mighty bird put me on its back, spread its wings and soared up. I crossed the ocean in ten hours. Sprawled comfortably in the Boeing seat, I managed to get a good night's sleep. Below, the Atlantic was dozing, covered with a duvet of swan clouds. I dreamed of a solid star streak. Brave cowboys and cunning Indians, endless prairies and deep canyons, Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand and Louis Armstrong - no politics. I hate politics! I opened my eyes. The ocean was left behind. The monitors displayed a graphic image of the western hemisphere, familiar to me only from contour maps.
An advertising brochure was sticking out of the pocket of the chair in front of him. I decided to enlighten myself without leaving the place. So, "New York is the largest city in the USA. The population is more than eight million people, and with suburbs - well over twenty. Wow! The size is the whole country! Indians lived here, and Europeans came here at the beginning of the seventeenth century. New York became the first stop on the way of people coming to the USA for a better life. "I wasn't looking for a better life, but it was all very interesting. Far below us stretched an endless coastline! Probably, this is a series of Long Beach beaches. There was a difference in time between us and New York by about the same number of hours as I was on the road. I took off - in the afternoon, landed - also in the afternoon, and did not lose an hour. Bonus. But the winter evening has already descended on the city from where I arrived.
Rita and her daughter met me at John F. Kennedy Airport. Masha and I met a long time ago. A quarter of a century ago, Rita brought her tiny daughter to Leningrad to show her grandmother. The New Year was approaching. Belkin's mother gathered her loved ones at the table. There I met Masha. On a funny coffee-colored face, a snub nose stood out in Russian. Huge blue eyes. The little white girl was about seven! I'm about nineteen years old. The girl and I were dancing around a sparkling Christmas tree. Masha got tired and fell asleep on my shoulder. "Here's a bride for you, Mishutka! Or is Squirrel more to your heart?" Her mother joked as she entered the room. That's all.
Incredibly, a quarter of a century later, Masha recognized me at first sight! Of course, I couldn't say the same to her. In my memory, Manya remained a snotty first-grader. And who is this sex bomb in leather jeans? Rita stood next to the beauty and smiled broadly. My aunt looked perfectly happy. Of course, her own daughter is nearby! Masha and I hugged in silence. Negligent Ritka did not bother to teach her daughter Russian. At home, Panamanians communicated exclusively in Spanish. I haven't seen my aunt for five years, but she hasn't changed a bit: the same haircut, a fragile figure and a slight accent. Oh, the horror! For the next two weeks, I can only ask for water in English! But I was glad to see New York, Rita - Masha, her daughter smiled warmly at both of us - and everyone was happy! From the first minutes, an understatement hung between Manya and me: either we just resumed an old acquaintance, or the girl intended to spin a light flirtation with me. Go take it apart!
Everything was not our way. Probably, it is also unusual to live on the moon. Every second I was waiting for some eggheaded aliens to come around the nearest corner! I was surprised at how warm it is here! After all, the New Year! Rita replied: "We are used to it! Plus fifteen! In New York - the climate of Sochi!" Aunt shifted her gaze to the display screen she was holding in her hand. With her finger, she brushed the clock off the screen - a thermometer appeared in its place. Is that a phone like that? So I saw the first smartphone. It cost five hundred dollars! I determined the weather myself! I also took pictures! Here are the bourgeois! What a gorgeous technique! Even with protective glass! I just got a pager back then!
Rita and Masha came for me in a Hummer. I haven't seen such unusual cars before either. A square made of iron! It's like a tank! "Tank" immediately took me on a date with skyscrapers. I knew all these buildings by name from the TV show "International Review". The outlines of the approaching skyscrapers were clearly visible through the hatch in the roof. Leaning out into it to the waist, I greeted New York! The American wind whistled in my ears, and I hooted with delight in Indian. My screams were drowned out by music - as square as our "tank". They explained to me: this is rap. It was read by an unknown rapper Eminem. And I thought only Liza Minnelli and her classic hit "New York, New York" were listening here! It's the anthem of this city, isn't it?
On the first evening I was brought to admire the panorama of New York. We climbed a slope in New Jersey, from which we can see the opposite shore of the Hudson - Manhattan Island. And on it is a palisade of skyscrapers. Later, this sight amazed me at any time of the day. But at dusk, the picture seemed especially beautiful to me. Myriads of light bulbs lit across the river were rushing somewhere into space. The stars gradually appeared against the darkening sky. I saw so many lights at once for the first time. Finally, darkness descended on the city. It's like we're in space. My breath caught in my throat.
Christmas in the States is the most important holiday. They've been waiting for him all year. Houses are decorated with garlands, glowing figures of deer… There is something doll-like and touching about it. Only villas are located in New Jersey. Some are richer, others are more modest… We call such areas the "private sector". Here, in the three-storey house of Masha's fiance, a huge family came from all over the world. Masha was happy: for the first time after a long break, she managed to bring her parents together in the same company.
She always adored her father! It's just that one day he turned out to be overly jealous! This handsome Latino guy and I met only a couple of times, and it was about thirty years ago, but he felt it his duty to come up to me and say hello. It was nice! After a gigantic period of time, this former Soviet student was still pronouncing Russian words tolerably well! "Can't you forget my daughter?" he asked, squinting. I realized that not only sweets with gingerbread are waiting for me here. So, in the house gathered: Rita and I, the gray-haired Ayub with his second wife, Masha with her Brandon and his numerous relatives. Aunts, uncles… Even some kind of baby-I still didn't understand whose it was.
I began to observe the owners of the house. Anna-Maria and Brandon behaved like the oldest married couple. Although they haven't even been engaged yet! It was obvious that Brandon was a perfect specimen for satisfying passions! "But passions are short-lived! She'll get bored of it very soon!" - for some reason I got nervous. Manya was knocked off her feet so that the guests would not need anything. "Make yourself comfortable! Have a rest! Grandma, should I light a fireplace in your bedroom? Who needs a blanket? Throw dirty laundry in the basket under the stairs!" Each of those present, as usual, was busy with himself. Masha's concern seemed exceptional. She will make a great hostess at home! The groom quite hugged the beauty and poured "mimosa" to the guests. Americans are ready to sip this cocktail of equal parts of champagne and orange juice from morning to evening!
There was a Christmas tree in the living room. It shimmered with multicolored lights. A whole mountain of gifts was poured at its foot. They were wrapped in sparkling wrappers! A personal surprise for everyone! Masha changed into an inconspicuous gray dress that perfectly fitted her figure. Open shoulders, slim waist - she looked fantastic! Her look was complemented by an expensive pearl necklace. But I was the highlight of the evening. Of course! Such an exotic prince! A fur coat from a Canadian raccoon animal named "possum"! Tuxedo! Land mine "Stolichnaya"! I was immediately dubbed the "Russian Viking"!
While waiting for midnight, I filled the glasses with vodka and invited everyone to take a sample from the drink. But the guests of the party, cautiously glancing in my direction, only sipped sweet Sangria wine - weak as compote. Then the Viking poured all the firewater into one glass and drained it in one gulp! Do not waste the same good! Everyone expected me to go to my forefathers right now! But the years of training were not in vain! Masha approached me and asked me to pour her vodka too. "Am I Russian or not?" a part of her soul asked. The groom kept a sharp eye on the blonde and immediately found himself next to us. The jealous man unceremoniously took possession of Masha's glass and tipped it into his mouth.
Someone said my name loudly. It was my turn to receive a Christmas present. I tore open the colorful packaging and found in the bundle a sweater from the same designer as Masha's dress. Expensive, stylish. Masha lowered her gaze in embarrassment. I understood everything, appreciated it and presented the girl with my brand new black goat fur hat! Ritka handed me a red glass heart. A complex pattern was applied to it from the inside. I wonder how it was done? I carefully examined her gift along with other guests. I liked ordinary Americans. Friendly, smiling - all as one. Take the same Masha. Of course, the girl was half ethnic Russian. But she didn't understand a single word of her mother's language. So - American! And more. The more miracles they showed me, the more I wanted to go home. My soul was warmed by the expectation of a speedy return to my homeland. When my vacation is over, I'll get on a plane and fly to Moscow. And there it's not far from St. Petersburg!
At one o'clock in the morning, a solemn moment arrived: Brandon went to the center of the composition, knelt down and handed Masha a velvet case, in the depths of which a ring with an impressive stone shimmered. Wow! Are diamonds really that big? Yes, he is a rich man! The guests applauded in unison. Marianne, blushing, nodded in agreement. The guy, apparently, felt that a spark had slipped between his fiancee and this Russian, and hurried to legitimize his relationship with Anna-Maria. The future father-in-law and mother-in-law reacted favorably to such a proposal: despite his youth, Mashkin's fiance already managed a network of city pharmacies. "Auntie" prepared to change her nickname to "mother-in-law". Brandon also chose the date for the wedding - the nearest Masha's birthday! He even rented a Large Hall of the National Library for the celebration!
The next morning Masha informed me that she had taken a week at her own expense. We immediately organized a walking tour with her. From the "Sangria" drunk the day before, the girl's temples were pounding. I offered her to stay at home, but Masha decided to go. I didn't have a hangover at all! The jealous Brandon couldn't stop us: he was working! It was one of our first meetings. Masha didn't speak Russian, but my English, for which they didn't give me grades higher than "three" at school, was quite enough for us. We immediately switched to a friendly tone. We worked in the same field: journalists all over the world understand each other without words! Masha changed her gray dress for a tracksuit. I put on the same fur coat. Although in America my furs were not quite appropriate.
New York City wears sweatpants in winter and summer. London, as it turned out, too. Two years earlier, my co-host and I had been brought to the capital of foggy Albion. The lady assured me that in England everyone is dressed like gentlemen. We dressed up in the best costumes. Upon arrival, we were convinced that a typical resident of London is a young Arab with unshaven armpits, dressed in baggy jeans. We turned out to be white crows there. The most popular name given to newborns in England is "Mohammed"! But about this - another time.
You can't beat New York in a few days, but we decided to at least try! The first week was spent on a cursory acquaintance with the city. We checked in at the Solomon Guggenheim Gallery and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We studied Fifth Avenue. Broadway turned out to be full of theatrical establishments of various kinds. It crosses all of Manhattan and continues into the Bronx. According to legend, Broadway repeats the path along which the Indians once drove cattle to drink.
We have polished the eggs of a huge bull embedded in the ground at the world-famous stock exchange! For luck! New York, along with London and Tokyo, is considered the center of the world economy. The financial industry is concentrated in lower Manhattan, on Wall Street. Masha's apartment was just around the corner from here - well, how could we not visit the stock exchange? Skyscrapers towered on the sides of the wide streets - just have time to look! Where was it to notice that a good half of the roads are one-way? How to figure out where to look when stepping onto the roadway? Just like in the aforementioned London! I barely jumped out from under the wheels of a double-decker city bus a couple of times!
We looked into Times Square, walked around "Little Italy" and "Chinatown". The districts turned out to be completely different. But everywhere passers-by turned to Masha. Of course! A natural blonde! Delicate skin the color of coffee with milk! Slim waist! Perfect manicure! She and I smelled of Chinese spices and Italian herbs. But through these smells I could feel the bitter violet aroma of mignonette, which Masha wore on herself. Not being dollishly beautiful at all, my girlfriend knew how to present herself! Like a real model! The girl could, if desired, fly up to the podium from the street.
By the way, New York is the capital of world fashion, many fashion houses are based between Fifth and Ninth Avenues. Boutiques, clothing stores and fashion centers are concentrated in the so-called "Sewing Quarter". Young talents Tommy Hilfiger, Coach, Ralph Lauren and America's chief fashion designer Oscar de la Renta are gathered here. And New York was once considered the center of American cinematography, but it has long lost this vain role to Hollywood. Now they only shoot films here. But these spheres did not attract Manyunya.
The nostalgic song "Moon River" from the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" sounded in my ears. Also the leitmotif of this city! We went on an excursion to the legendary boutique. The prices of jewelry remained as exorbitant as during the filming of the film. Half a century ago, a movie hero, coming here, could not please his girlfriend with an expensive gift performed by the delightful Audrey Hepburn. I had no more money in my pocket than he had. I also should not have dreamed of buying a gift for Masha in this shop. But no one prevented me from presenting her with a bouquet of frozen chrysanthemums.
The New Year was approaching. American stores sought to outdo each other in the luxurious decoration of the windows. Thousands of people came to see these masterpieces. Joining the crowd of onlookers, we hung at the mirrored windows, behind which Santa Claus was walking on the Moon, and forest animals were singing New Year's singles. As if alive! The designers have worked hard! When we got bored of looking at all this splendor, we took "coffee with us" and sat down to have a snack in the gazebo of Central Park.
Central Park is the "lungs of New York." Favorite vacation spot. Dozens of followers of the world's most athletic movie star Jane Fonda milled around us. I remember we used to call it aerobics! You will laugh, but New York women can walk down the street with bare breasts. The ban on being topless in a public place is considered gender discrimination here! Oh, it's a pity that Masha didn't feel violated! You could have undressed! Just kidding! After all, the crowd would have followed the beauty! We did not meet any of the inhabitants of the surrounding houses: neither Madonna, nor Sharon Stone, nor Jack Nicholson. They probably have no time to wander the streets! But we came across the "Trump Tower", as if entirely cast in gold.
On the occasion of the holiday, a tall spruce tree was installed at the Rockefeller Center - several tens of meters! A skating rink was filled in under its shadow, where everyone could ride. We also succumbed to the temptation ... we skated well, even made a trip to the triple "sheepskin coat". The demonstration performance of the "Russian team" deserved applause. But the tired Masha eventually fell on top of me, I in turn - on the ice, and the American and I involuntarily touched lips. The rest of the evening was spent in a diner. Sandwiches, mulled wine… We were on a roll. I laughed a lot, Masha joked willingly. Humor is not always translatable, but we laughed like crazy. Epiphany frosts were coming to New York... in the evening Brandon stopped by the skating rink and took us to his place.
He put us in the car half asleep, spent an hour at the wheel, and here we are - on the coast of Brighton Beach. Overseas guests are supposed to walk! The brightest January sun. Deserted beaches. The vast sky, like everywhere on the sea. But this is not the sea. Here is the ocean. A century ago, the descendants of the first settlers built a resort on the Atlantic coast. It was named after its English counterpart - Brighton. With an interval of a hundred meters, the northern gags were sitting on the pillars. Regal as the rulers of the world. And each of the ruling birds looked at me: "And I recognized you! I flew here myself! And you needed a whole Boeing! Flew back together?"
The pedestrian deck was made of unpainted boards and stretched over the beach as far as the eye could see. Crowds of my former compatriots walked along it. Russians, Ukrainians, Jews… They are used to walking along the limestone embankment in the hot "Arcadia". The air there was fragrant with the cloying aroma of blooming phlox, the salty smell of surf and fried steers. Straw hats, linen clothes. Strollers refreshed themselves with soda, husked seeds, flirted. An indispensable attribute of beaches in both hemispheres is a photo with a monkey. Don't forget to pick up your pictures on the way back! Buy a souvenir with the motto "Hello from..."! A parrot, swinging on a perch, will tell you your fate. Ice cream, pies, boiled corn, cotton candy and finally - libra!
Nothing has changed. The continent is different. The local New Year's thaw was similar to our all-season coolness. I can imagine what a blessing there is in the summer! No wonder Brighton is called "Little Odessa". I overheard a skirmish of the indigenous inhabitants of Odessa - of those who left the Union the very first. No mova, Hebrew or spoken English for you! The walkers communicated only in Russian with each other: "Sema, did you close the safe? Sarah, don't torture my brain! I'll arrange for you the torn-out years! Do you want to?" Of course, there were no home safes in the Soviet Union. Those who had something to put in storage have been living overseas for the last hundred years! Oh, Odessa! Humor partially moved to the west along with your residents. But none of the people walking along Brighton Beach thought to joke. The surrounding trees. We were surrounded by chewing jaws.
New York turned out to be the capital of fast food. There was a booth on every corner where bagels were sold. This is such a weighty bagel for a snack. There are a lot of fillings to choose from - like our "potato crumbs". To spite the crowds of fat-assed fellow citizens, Masha kept a chiseled figure. But the herd instinct is invincible! We also bought a bagel. And what? Delicious! Even after dividing the bagel for everyone, we could not cope with this bakery monster. Brighton Beach vaguely reminded me of a strip of favorite beaches stretching along the Gulf of Finland - Komarovo, Repino, Sunny…
Mashkin's fiance hurried to his office. It was time for us to have lunch, and we ordered a plate of borscht at the Russian Samovar restaurant. The soup was hot, with garlic dumplings. Cooked masterfully! Apparently, the chef is one of our emigrants! During the meal, Masha casually asked if I wanted to stay in America? She scooped up a spoonful of borscht, but immediately poured it back into the plate: "I've been living here for ten years, and this city never ceases to amaze me! In international slang, New York is commonly called the "big apple"! Do you want a bite? Stay! We will work together! I'll help you..."
Am I ready to work with her in her media holding? Despite her age, Masha was considered one of the leading correspondents of the New York Times. Her offer seemed very flattering to her! But I already shuddered! Does she know what she's talking about? I imagined a snowball of future problems, laced with a fair dose of nostalgia. Well, let's say I'm provided with a job. And where should I live? What is there? What to wear? What about my family? And friends? And the notorious trunks of birch trees? And my native language? And in general, how long will all this last? And what should I wait for then? After all, all the difficulties will hang on Masha's neck!
I have already been taught not to confuse tourism with emigration! A sightseeing walk around the city was enough for me! I only wanted to go home and shook my head negatively. Although I liked New York extremely! If I have an opportunity, I will try to be born there next time! I found a lot of posh places! I liked the Brooklyn Bridge. I wish I could see it from the height at which the birds soar! I would like to soar up - where the Hudson and the East River embrace an oblong piece of land and gently whisper to him: "Manhattan"!
Masha was visibly discouraged by my refusal. She doesn't advise me anything bad! Soon, a friend hurried to an evening date with her precious Brandon. Until recently, there was no question of any date. She, they say, still needs to have time to change! "Did the Russian guest want heights? Yes, you're welcome!" She sent me to the top of the Empire State Building skyscraper alone: "I've been there more than once!" On the way up, I thought about the fact that life is a zebra. Fate stopped showering me with slaps, and a happy period came. I crossed the Atlantic to enjoy the architecture of high-rise buildings!
New York itself was associated with high-rise construction. The city center is located on an island, and the land on it was fabulously expensive. Therefore, the houses began to grow up - the air was not worth anything at that time. There are six thousand buildings higher than one hundred and fifty meters. Due to the abundance of skyscrapers, the silhouette of New York looks like a giant pillow for needles. But nevertheless it is a city! One of the most notable buildings is the Chrysler Building. Three hundred and nineteen meters! High-rise lace - everything I love! The project in the postmodern Art Deco style was crowned with huge steel-colored arcs, similar to the wheels of a car. Well, what's the use of boxes aimed at the sky?
But I was selective: only New York, only skyscrapers. I didn't care about the rest of America as a country and capitalism itself as a system. Immersed in myself, I did not notice that we were climbing higher and higher. As I moved from one elevator to another, I glanced at the huge windows. The sight became more and more terrible! Every now and then it was heard: "Oh mein Gott!" This German exclamation has long become international. And I also noticed that the sun was blinding my eyes when I entered the building below! But the elevators dragged to the spire for so long that I stepped onto the observation deck at dusk. After all, the Empire State was then considered the tallest building on the planet!
At an altitude of four hundred meters, terror seized me. No wonder: there are a hundred and two floors below me! It was very scary, despite the unprecedented measures. The observation deck was taken away with a thick mesh and surrounded by a lattice. But the wind was blowing the strongest! My body was frozen with icy horror. Nothing depended on me here! Like on a plane! A non-smoker will also reach for a cigarette. Absolutely everyone smoked here. The bans were lifted. The smokes were sold at exorbitant prices right there, in a souvenir shop. I sent a year without nicotine to the past. I called this metamorphosis the "Empire effect". Releasing a puff of smoke, I instinctively pressed my back against the tower topped with a spire - it stuck up about sixty meters.
I was standing on top of the world. The edge of the duvet, in which the sleepy Atlantic was wrapped, touched my face. Clouds clung to the dome of the tower. I closed my eyes. At my feet lay the most beautiful city on the planet. But he and I didn't need each other. I desperately wanted to go home. Stay in the USA? No, fire me! It dawned on me: or did Masha offer me a way out, which I didn't even dare to think about? The one that will destroy all possible obstacles in one fell swoop? Am I missing something? But I wasn't ready for such sharp turns yet!
It was interesting for me to look at America and show myself to her, nothing more. Along with the poor devils who wanted to go down, I took a long queue to the elevator going down. Since then, I've gotten used to viewing skyscrapers while standing confidently on solid ground. At the same time, the cigarette is usually clamped in my teeth. Once downstairs, I came across a bar where smoking was allowed. Smoking again? Well, if you can, then don't waste the same permission! The smoke in the bar was a pillar - I could not see what kind of drink I was drinking! In general, that year smokers were repressed all over America: in restaurants, taxis, in the building where I was staying, even in the shower. But I've already lit up again. I had to look for a loophole. I found her. One place in New York was not affected by the bans.
For the first time I came there by accident. I was touched by the fate of the skyscrapers that stood next door and were destroyed by terrorists three years earlier. The World Trade Center complex has graced the earth for thirty years. At the end of the last century, its buildings were considered the tallest on the planet. Two towers - each above four hundred meters. They were built according to the project of an American of Japanese origin Minoru Yamasaki in the early seventies. Ritka was still dreaming about abroad at that time. A spectacular pair of high-rises was considered the architectural dominant of New York until that terrible day when suicide bombers seized two Boeing and leveled the towers to the ground. After their collapse in the "Big Apple", the frontline pulled the burning for another five years. That terrorist attack happened two steps away from Masha's house. She even bought an apartment when, after a terrible disaster, the most expensive area of the city was being sold off on the cheap. At the beginning of the XVII century, Dutch colonists began to build New York from here, from the southern tip of Manhattan. The city was then called New Amsterdam.
On the day of the terrorist attack, Rita was flitting around the Middle East. And a novice reporter, Manya, was jostling in a crowded New York subway car and could not understand: why did the train stand on the stretch for four and a half hours? After all, there are no traffic jams here! Even the doors for air access were not opened! Nothing has been announced! They don't even let you get out! Why? As an intern in the Sunday Review incident department, Manyunya poked her snub nose everywhere. At one point, there was a strong smell of something burning in the car, and then powerful explosions rushed to her ears. There was complete silence in the carriage. Masha saw that the mine began to be covered with white smoke. Has the war really started? Does it look so casual? The girl found out that there was a terrorist attack in the city when she somehow got to the surface. She managed to get out of the subway on the far outskirts. Downtown New York was shut down. In the evening, a terrified Ritka got through to Mary Ivanna: "Daughter, is everything all right? Thank God!"
If the architect of the complex had not died of cancer in the eighty-sixth, it would certainly have happened in the first year of the new century. Minoru would have died of horror - it was so scary on the eleventh of September. And if by that time I had already saved up money for this trip, that early morning I could well have been on the roof of one of the towers. Moreover, with my "luck" this was bound to happen. A slight chill ran down my spine. Praise my eternal lack of money! It saved my life!
The salary on TV, contrary to popular misconception, was not prohibitive. It did not correspond to the expenditure of the heart, nerves, mind. To see distant countries, I was hired for additional projects. But in the year of the tragedy there was no opportunity. And now three years have passed since the terrorist attack. The date of the 9/11 incident turned from a telephone number of the rescue service into a kind of swastika. The financial quarter, which had seen that tragedy, was still smeared with soot and covered with black soot to the tips of its ears - three hundred meters up. After the attack on the World Trade Center, toxic dust formed due to the destruction of the twin Towers. Acrid smoke poured out of the ruins for several more months.
In place of the twins, two pits remained, covered with a gray mesh, like a veil. Candles, notes, wreaths... the Svoboda Tower, now standing on the same site, has not yet been erected. The scene of the incident was not rebuilt into a memorial. Huge holes gaped at the site of the terrorist attack. Two searchlights beat out of them at night, reminding the world of a terrible loss. Three thousand victims! To take a sip of nicotine and just think, I went to the ashes. No one touched the people who stood at the giant pits and silently inhaled smoke.
Many of them lost their loved ones here! What horror must have been experienced by the eyewitnesses of that tragedy! I could only compare the scale of the disaster with the death of the Titanic! A subway station was visible at the bottom of one of the pits. The subway in America has existed since the beginning of the twentieth century. It is called a subway, although some of the tracks are on the surface of the earth. The New York City subway is considered the longest in the world - as much as one and a half thousand kilometers.
This city has taken over my thoughts. But I was visiting friends in the very center of it! In such heavenly conditions, any metropolis could captivate me! Man is weak! I felt embarrassed for myself. Masha's house overlooked the Hudson River. In the morning, Rita and I looked at the Statue of Liberty right from the living room. Raising his hand with a burning torch, the monument welcomed those arriving in the States from the ocean. "For a better life!" Somehow we boarded the ferry and sailed closer. Up close, the famous statue looked quite small. Freedom as freedom! But there were even guided tours inside the figure! I would like to arrange such a thing in Volgograd! The size of the monument on Mamayev Kurgan allows it! To look at our country from the height of the Motherland! Not a bad idea?
And so "all of us" went to their offices. Even Masha was hit by the first working day. Rita and I went for a walk as guests. The winter sun beat into my eyes. The clean-swept embankment was full of onlookers. Who smoked, who took pictures, who walked the dog. Children were playing everywhere. The people were entertained by wandering musicians. We walked along a long line of benches. Rita noticed an unattended beet-colored beret on one of them. Either someone dropped it, or threw it away. The beret looked clean and almost new. Rita quickly grabbed it, threw off the hat that bothered her and pulled the find on her head. "Size - as per order! And the color is my favorite!" she murmured contentedly. The requirements of basic hygiene begged for dry cleaning! But what am I talking about? The walkers applauded the happy aunt! "Didn't you drop him off here? Are you a hatter? Daughters - daddy, mom - beret!" I swallowed saliva. Aunt is joking!
We took a walk on the George Washington Bridge. In terms of passability, it is considered the largest in the world. But where is the next crossing to the opposite shore? I asked Rita how it happened that the areas of such a gigantic metropolis are almost not connected by bridges? After all, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, Harlem are bigger than many cities in themselves! My aunt chuckled: "You just don't know! There are several suspension bridges here: Brooklyn, Williamsburg, Manhattan and Verrazano. And the island center is connected to the mainland outskirts by the world's first underwater tunnel. That's what it's called - Hudson. The mirror of the strait above it is so vast that an airplane can land on it!»
It stirred in my memory: "Big deal! The plane was actually landing on the surface of the Neva! In the early sixties, the TU-124 was heading from Tallinn to Moscow. When approaching the capital, all his engines failed. Then the plane landed on the Neva."Five years later, the same story happened on the Hudson itself. On that day, the airbus encountered a flock of Canadian Cossacks during takeoff. The birds disabled both of his engines. It seemed that the plane crash was inevitable! A plane falling from the sky landed in the city limits. His passengers narrowly escaped death. They climbed onto the wings of an airbus that was rapidly sinking into the river and began to signal the approaching tug. The last survivor boarded the boat when the plane completely went under water. Songs and films are still being written about this today!
And then I realized that my aunt had started this walk for a reason. Rita understood: sooner or later the Viking would go home! There is no need for their Russian friend to stay in the States! I don't want him to take her daughter with him! Aloud she said something else: "I understood everything a long time ago! You care about Masha! It took you a long time to choose! Don't be afraid, I'm not going to interfere with my daughter's happiness! I'm surprised at myself: it was necessary to go so far and let Masha come back after so many years!" She hinted that I should not spoil her daughter's life - it would be better for me to disappear from the horizon altogether! Disappear into thin air! Evaporate!
After spending two weeks in Manhattan, I began to understand those who had not left the island for twenty years. Absolutely everything could be found on this piece of sushi - for every taste and thickness of the wallet. Boutiques and car dealerships, offices, museums, a zoo, gyms, rented housing and a huge park like a wild forest. And also - cuisines of all countries of the world: Japanese, Georgian, Korean, Indian, Russian, Vietnamese, Mexican and Brazilian. American friends planned our visit in such a way that Rita and I went to a new restaurant for lunch every day. From time to time Masha and Brandon joined us, or even old Ayub and his young wife. Foreigners rarely cooked at home. New touches from the life of this magical city were revealed to us.
In one of the temples of food, a brazier was installed right in front of us - we ourselves brought strange Vietnamese mushrooms to brown by bathing them in sweet and sour sauce. In another tavern, more and more skewers were brought to the table, offering to take a sample from meat carcasses of all varieties. Even with marbled beef from Argentina! One thing united these various pubs: their guests were allowed to smoke only outside. That's what I was doing - in a crowd of local prostitutes and drug dealers. They were wary. I was clearly falling out of the picture. Now I would be surprised at any little thing! But at that time I kept a jaded look: "Just think, abroad! I'm not a fool myself!"
With this thought in mind, I visited Canada. To see the Light of the Copper Mine. Once we were good friends in St. Petersburg, but ten years ago this singer moved to live in Toronto. While her mother was alive, Sveta flew to Russia every summer. But a few years ago, the old lady passed away. My friend's visits to her homeland have stopped. Toronto is very close to New York. By bus - only a night's journey. Well, how could we not meet? I didn't pass the border control right away: the fur coat was too noticeable. A raccoon? Probably stole it. I was interrogated by a fat mulatto woman in a uniform. I had to admit that I work on TV.
Without understanding a word, the aunt grinned cheerfully: "Oh! Russian clown!" and slapped the stamp: "Entry is allowed!" The border guard clearly took me for fellow soldier Philip Kirkorov! It was a crisp winter in Canada. The joy of meeting Sveta is impossible to describe! When I arrived in Canada, I tried to take into account my previous experience. Nothing else is personal! Besides, Sveta is safely hidden in the shell of marriage! If I celebrated Christmas in New York, the New Year was waiting for me in Toronto. We celebrated him in the restaurant where the singer served as a singer.
We spent the whole evening on stage. I don't play any instrument, but they put me behind the keys: "The musician is sick. Yes, we have a soundtrack, don't drift!" Even on the way to Canada, I noticed that the bus was full of rich Jews. Jewelry, furs, the smell of good whiskey. One passenger was nasal to another: "We were Jews in the Union! Russian Russians are considered here!" They spoke in Russian with almost no accent. When I went on stage, I saw the same bus passengers at the tables! These colorful people dressed up and specially came here! To the largest Russian restaurant in Canada.
It was distinguished by exquisite cuisine and was somewhat cheaper than its American counterparts. The audience recognized me too! "Sarah, look, this pianist wasn't coming with us?" I stood in the foreground like a fool and soundlessly tapped on the keys with fingers wooden from exertion. And I also collected tips - later we shared them with restaurant musicians in a brotherly way. Standing in public view, we waited out a mass brawl - the restaurant was Russian. That's what I understand - New Year! Someone's teeth, plates, appliances were flying around the hall...Svetka strictly ordered me not to leave the stage: "Musicians are not touched!"
In Toronto, they dressed luxuriously, in an emigrant way. "You invite me to a restaurant, I'll wear all the best at once!" My possum fur coat turned out to be here by the way! It took me a while to figure out what the secret was. But I was wearing a Canadian raccoon! How could he not come to court in Canada? Homeland suits any animal: something for a possum, something for a man! Sveta worked as a singer at night. During the day, I slept. We walked in the evenings. That's why I remember Toronto as a gloomy winter twilight. First of all, we went to the underground city of Under-PAT! Downtown Toronto is studded with skyscrapers, their tops tend to the clouds. In reality, high-rise buildings are stuck deep into the ground. There are offices, shops and restaurants on several underground levels - they are connected by passages. Exactly - an anthill! Business people go underground for lunch. Office plankton live in apartments above metro stations - their inhabitants do not need a car or winter clothes. They don't go outside. Such is the city of the future! According to the quality of life, he is said to be ranked fourth in the world. I learned from the brochure that Toronto is Canada's most populous city and its economic engine. Half of Toronto's residents are expats. The name of the city was once carried by an entire area near Lake Ontario. It comes from the Indian expressions "meeting place", or "a place where trees grow out of water". It's all poetry!
The next day we looked into the Wax Museum and the Guinness World Records Museum! We were photographed with wax copies of Michael Jackson and Marilyn Monroe. And also - the tallest and fattest man in the world! Then we went to the casino. I regret that Sveta, out of caution, did not let me play cards. She was worried: what if I liked the game process and would delay it? I also appreciated what the cult of Canadian hockey is. The local team in Toronto even installed a monument. This is a professional hockey club "Toronto Maple Leafs", playing in the NHL. The Maple Leafs have won the Stanley Cup thirteen times. Toronto at that time was famous for the world's tallest TV tower with a rotating restaurant and high-speed elevators. It was tempting to visit an altitude of over five hundred meters, but we simply did not have time to get there. And I don't like heights! It became obvious to me in New York.
Instead, a friend dragged me to look at Niagara Falls! He blew me away. Laid on the shoulder blades. The force of the falling water turned out to be so great, and the frost on the street was so strong that the splashes of water froze on the fly and fell to the ground already frozen. I have never seen such a thing! Here it is, a real miracle! Magic! When I was growing up, the premieres of "Irony of Fate", "Hello, I'm your aunt!", the songs "Maestro" and "Tell me, birds!" were given on TV one after another, Something inside me responded to them with a crystal ringing. Maybe my soul? In those days I began to understand that there is something permanent in life. When I reached the age of forty, I didn't expect such feelings to happen again. But Niagara denied it. A miracle is possible at any age!
I returned to New York - the flight to Moscow took off from there. After my return from Canada, Manyunya did not start any more conversations that could embarrass me. The old lightness has completely disappeared from our friendship. Masha generally tried not to be alone with me anymore. And during the days of my absence, Ritka managed to thoroughly "fall in love". There was a certain utility room in the house where we were staying. There, the residents of the house left things that they would no longer need. That is, all the junk.
Aunt got into the habit of picking up everything in this room that, in her opinion, could be useful in Russia. She collected a whole bag of such "souvenirs". By the way, the bag itself was also thrown away by someone. I wasn't surprised: as long as I could remember, Rita had been saving money. In her defense, I note that sometimes Americans got rid of things extremely carelessly. Well, why fix a broken fifth iPhone? It's easier to buy a sixth!
Masha swore terribly at her mother for such a "gathering", she offered to buy gifts for everyone in the store. But thrifty Rita did not recognize this. After all, many things are still very good! My aunt rented out real estate in both hemispheres. She was not poor, but she still saved on small things! My aunt patiently waited for me at the door of the museum, if it cost money to enter it. Rita did not allow me to buy a ticket for myself. Ayub took the girl out of the village. But he failed to get the village out of the girl. During the divorce, the mulatto provided well for his ex-wife, but her principle was "not to spend money." The desire of a person who has never worked to save money is quite understandable, although it does not hold on anything. Yet it turned out to be possible!
On the last day, someone threw out a mouton fur coat, half eaten by a moth. Before this happened, the fur coat had lived several lifetimes. The early years of the fur coat were spent in Prague. After the war, a Czech merchant presented his bride with a coat. Everyone was happy: both young and fur. But the owner of the fur coat passed away during childbirth, and the coat was stuffed into the far corner of the attic. When the daughter of the deceased owner of the fur coat grew up, she went to conquer Hollywood. The girl took a cozy mother's coat with her. She failed to become an actress, and the fur coat went out of fashion. Over time, she became the grandmother of a large family and decided to hide in the evenings with old fur. Instead of a blanket! When a moth got into the fur coat, both of them (both the fur coat and the moth) were kicked out of the house.
The moth flew away, and the long-suffering fur coat turned out to be in Ritka's hands. An enterprising aunt dragged her into the house and began to tamp her into my luggage. The fur coat was shining with a return flight across the ocean! It's at his age! But the fur coat didn't fit anywhere, and then it was blindfolded to the bag! Outside! With scotch tape! The bag itself was made up to fit my carry-on luggage. Rita gave it to me under Masha's protests! The daughter waved her hand at her mother. She called this behavior "Panama syndrome." But Anna-Maria herself was not petty, although she was born in this country! No, it's still a temperament! Aunt begged for an analogy with the heroine of the cartoon - the adventurer Shapoklyak. By the way, Rita's own sister - Squirrel's mother - is happy to wear that mouton fur coat to this day. Yes, and other Rita's "gifts" have found recipients! After all, Aunt is a great aunt! Though greedy! Even Ritka was going to send me to the airport by metro. Brandon, who drove in a Hummer on time, helped out. Probably wants to make sure that my plane will definitely fly away! Giovanni appeared in the apartment. He looked with a grin at the bag with a fur coat tied to it: "Did Rita try? I recognize her hand! Are you leaving after all? Well, God is your judge. You Russians always do everything your own way!" Strangely, but this time it seemed to me that he was for me. Did Masha share it with him too?
At the last line, Mary Ivanna whispered: "I asked him to postpone our wedding for a year. You never know what will happen? Brandon has agreed to wait as long as it takes!" She looked at me pleadingly. But I was afraid to destroy several lives with one awkward movement: Mashkina, Brandon, my own, even Ritkina, damn me. At that moment I had no doubt that I loved Mary Ivanna. But what kind of future could Manyunya expect if she joined me? Gritting my teeth, I said nothing.
At parting, Masha presented me with a whole world full of crystal wonders. Inside a glass ball ten centimeters in diameter, local craftsmen placed the whole of New York - along with the Statue of Liberty and the twin towers. It was worth turning over the souvenir, as snow began to fall inside it. The American woman shoved the toy into my hands, rustled: "I'll see you again!" and walked to the Hummer. On the way, Masha hunched over and hid her snub nose in her collar. I think she was upset. Perhaps, in my person, my friend also wanted to have a new toy.
And where to put me later, when we get bored? To the utility room? So that my aunt would pick up Misha there and send her to cold Russia? But I'm flying there anyway! No, I did everything right! Rita was waiting for her daughter in the car. Aunt silently rejoiced: "Viking" flies away alone! As she wanted, I soon disappeared into thin air! Sitting at the wheel, the groom was dozing next to her. Powerful jaws were idly grinding gum.
Apparently, Masha was attracted to Brandon when they were alone. But I noticed how this alpha male annoys her in everyday life. I wonder how Brandon might react if I agreed to stay in the USA? After all, he was sure of his superiority over me by five hundred percent! And would Masha dare to offer me to live in the States if she was completely indifferent to me? Of course, anyone could dream of such a girl! But it was not in my rules to "offend the little ones." I am still warm today because there is a person who remembers me on the other side of the Earth!
At customs, passengers were asked to take off their shoes. For safety's sake. I pulled off my boots. A fair hole has formed on one sock from endless walks! A thumb was peeking out! What a shame! Especially since I'm wearing a fur coat that attracts everyone's attention! Okay, I'll change at home! Not before that! "Even Boeings crash into skyscrapers here! How would these buildings not decide to take revenge and rip open the belly of my plane?" - I was afraid. And again, far below, the sleepy Atlantic was wrapped in a downy blanket of feathery clouds. I was twirling a funny ball in my hands until sleep overcame me in the middle of the flight.
I was shown my native Leningrad. In the early nineties, I was swimming in love. Like cheese in butter. I was surrounded by loved and loving people, work, the city. I was in no hurry to get married: it will always be in time! In the morning I racked my head: what to amuse myself with? The director and I were looking at Moscow. A new round of career awaits us there! All the money is there! It was a whim. A sluggish whim. After all, everything is fine as it is!
But then the world around began to collapse. The Union collapsed. Russia took its place. She tried her best to go the capitalist way. The ether began to be sold, the screens were flooded with advertising. Money was worthless from now on. The people are ruined. The mood was appropriate. My parents left early. Instead of Leningrad, I was given an unknown Peter. There was clearly something wrong going on around. Longing made me want to howl. Moving to the capital was no longer a step in his career, but an attempt to get rid of.
It was hard on someone else's territory. No one was waiting for me. "Don't confuse tourism with emigration!" - that was the first time I heard this bitter phrase! A new round of career seems to have been a success. There was a lot of work. Very much so. But I never saw "all the money" in the capital. They were paid to someone else. Perhaps that's why the outlines of the city, where so many styles, faces and dialects were mixed, were no longer pleasing. But the heroes of my programs and personal friends were the stars who inhabited the capital. I admired Stalin's skyscrapers, the ancient Kremlin. There were an order of magnitude more ancient palaces, temples and parks in the capital than at home. "Walk - I don't want to! It's free!" the bosses cynically advised.
There are really a lot of interesting things around me! In the XI century, there was a settlement on the site of the Kremlin, protected by a rampart and a moat. And the name of the city itself is connected with the name of the Moscow River - "viscous, swampy, swamp". According to another version, the word Moscow means "Bear river" or "Cow River". I went for a ride on the Bear River on a boat, went to Kolomenskoye Park, to the Tsaritsyno estate, wandered around the Tretyakov Gallery. I visited Sergiev Posad, filled with Andrei Rublev's paintings! But I did not grow to Moscow in any way. Bosses changed cars, mistresses, apartments. The visitors lived in the dorm. And we didn't get any "together". The director turned onto his own, single-track path. I was usually called handsome, and he was called smart. He wanted to become beautiful himself. Became. I urgently had to get smarter.
I started dreaming about the neighboring city again. But now it's about Peter. Where he was born, he came in handy there. When I get home, everything will be as it was. Mom, Dad, Leningrad and television… How much the old-fashioned telephone booth under the window knew about me! There were fewer and fewer numbers "for which I will find votes". But not all the songs were sung to me by birds in the Summer Garden, not all the restless Nevsky made a noise, not all the trams rang at the busy Liteyny. We slowed down with them in the very middle of the Leningrad Symphony. Well, how could I not listen to her?
The impregnable fortress in my dream was surrounded by a hedge. It consisted of central television employees holding hands. They were shouting: "Come here! The plow is served! And the money? We need the money ourselves! If your program goes on the air, then without credits! No one will ever know that you were here!" To scare away unwanted aliens, the mecca of the blue screen was surrounded by a high lattice with sharp tips. Our predecessors writhed on them in death throes. Savage foreigners with dog heads were running back and forth along the perimeter. Their aggressive onslaught was restrained only by "strict" collars! Raging, the "dogheads" bared their rotten teeth and barked in the most guttural voices! "Get out of here! Away! Away!" A heartbreaking dream! Rave!
A hand touched my shoulder. The stewardess asked me to fasten my seat belt. I opened my eyelids, opened my sleep-clouded eyes. He drank a glass of mineral water in one gulp. The Boeing came in for landing. The landing was terrible. Time zones are layered on the duration of the flight. It was an unknown time of an unknown day. I wanted to sleep again. Moreover, my "normal" luggage was lost during the transfer in Vienna, but the stupid bag with a fur coat tied to it did not go anywhere. Also this! I trudged off to write a complaint... the missing suitcase was delivered to my rented apartment the next day!
After visiting my American friends, I materialized in Moscow. And involuntarily began to compare. Contrary to expectations, America did not outweigh. Restaurants in Ostankino turned out to be even more diverse than in New York. At Shabolovka I "broadcast on TV-radio" in pure Russian. There were museums, boulevards, squares all around! Settle down, States! Russia rules!
However, merchant Moscow tried to restrain the rapid influx of visitors with high prices for everything. This pricing policy also hit me: my favorite champagne "brut" and cheese with blue mold turned into real delicacies here! They were decorated with price tags, more appropriate in a jewelry salon. Having given the capital a whole ten years, I was not going to settle in it for good. I was drawn to my native St. Petersburg like a magnet! Maybe someone will consider me a loser. But I was born to live in a small homeland. The Palace Bridge turned out to be nicer to me than the Brooklyn Bridge or the Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge.
Oh, there is no constancy in life! After all, the Russian capital did not move to St. Petersburg forever either. So, for a couple of centuries. And even after Lenin's death, it was going to be renamed the city of Ilyich, and when the Kremlin "highlander" died, it was completely renamed Stalinodar or Stalin. Thank God, all this did not come true. Probably, life would have flowed in a different direction if I had stopped by Moscow for a while to stay. Perhaps the capital would have impressed me as much as alien New York. Or maybe she herself would have wanted to keep the blonde! But everything turned out the way it turned out. I found myself in a foreign land at the very end of the nineties. Stalls, coupons, crowds. Damn politics was catching up with me, no matter how I dodged.
Later, all the forces of evil concentrated on the other side of the earth. And only in our days we began to return the country that we lost thirty years ago! There is no place in it for narcissistic comedians, who used to fill TV screens, the worst pop kings, who blurred gender boundaries with their appearance and imaginary fashion historians of both sexes without signs of it. The near-altar show-shantrapa is going to hell along with the genre of the TV show!
Having traveled half the world, I realized: the city on the Neva will never let me go from myself. Whatever it was called: St. Petersburg, Petrograd, Leningrad, St. Petersburg again ... Named after the patron saint of the founding tsar, my hometown eventually became associated with the name of Peter I. I was attracted by Peter's squiggles: all these rounded buildings, oval elevators, turrets and palaces. Complemented by a straight-planned space, they created a unique style of my hometown. On the eve of returning home, I flew to New York. It was a good shake-up. I realized what I really wanted and began to look for ways to retreat. The gloomy nineties are over. My brightest period has come. Would you say I chose a depressive climate suitable for suicides? No, rebirth!
I was invited to work for Channel Five. A smile settled on my face. The mood was constantly upbeat. Since then I have been living in St. Petersburg - and I am quite happy. If I am visited by longing for the past, I get into a high-speed "Peregrine Falcon". In four hours I'm going out on the metropolitan platform. And I'm going straight to the Moscow City business center. The skyscrapers there are for every taste.
Russian Russian soul remains Russian, even if it is placed in a coffee-colored body. For the sake of meeting Masha, I had to take a long journey. A real "walking across three seas". And for good reason. My trip helped Manya and me to understand a very important thing: Russian people do not tolerate the slightest lack of freedom. Although sometimes they can't say a single word in their native language. I didn't want to live in any city on the planet and returned home. And Masha rejected the unloved rich groom and gave her heart to a simple guy named Tom.
The beauty gave birth to a snub-nosed kid, and then two more white girls. From noisy New York, this large family moved to sunny Florida. After all, it is more comfortable for children to live at the resort! I am invited to stay in the States again - this time the father of the family himself. On occasion, it will be necessary to visit my Americans. As a gift to Masha, I will take a Russian language tutorial. I wonder if there are direct flights from St. Petersburg to Florida?