The Choice Era. Part 1. Nata Kay
Now Mona was washing away inappropriate options. «If men are forbidden to be alone, they would get upset.»
Harry approached her, hugged and kissed her temple. Over the years of marriage he didn’t lose warm tender feelings and didn’t understand why others were about to lose it. Perhaps the other spouses simply didn’t help each other to keep love, so they were losing it more and more every year, not even noticing such a monstrous loss.
And few wives, perhaps, were able to show as much patience and understanding as Mona showed. She knew how to support, cheer up, fill the void with her sweet chatter and sometimes step aside in time to allow her husband to cool down and recover.
Harry left the apartment in a state that could be considered at least normal, though he still would like Mona go for a walk with him. Now, outside the house and without his wife, Harry was again coming back to his thoughts, which were still tangling and spreading in different directions, like cats frightened by a loud car signal.
Earlier Harry perfectly fit his views on life into a single solid concept, and this concept had not yet ruined. Only Harry’s new life experience, oddly enough obtained from books, couldn’t find a place for itself in this concept.
The rain wasn’t about to start. The clouds were waiting for a good moment. They were looming over the city to rid the streets of fearful people.
Rain was a phenomenon not for those who couldn’t sacrifice dry feet for a hike. Of course, shoes were protected by all kind of modern covers, but there still was a problem with tricky water drops inside the shoes and boots. A mere thought of them left hundreds of people at their homes.
Harry carried an umbrella with him only if he went somewhere with Mona. He didn’t take it just for his own sake, because he didn’t want to carry it in his hands and accidentally leave it somewhere in public places. If Harry got wet, he wasn’t upset. At work he had an extra suit, and as for all other places people would understand and forgive his inappropriate appearance… Or at least pretend there was nothing wrong.
This time Harry followed his traditions and left home with no umbrella. He walked left from the house almost without thinking.
Harry had no final destination. He was just looking ahead and kept walking. About twenty years ago Harry acquired a habit of walking very fast when he was lost in thought and focused on himself. Sometimes he received blows in his shoulder and went a red light, but then he got used to control the situation and return to reality when it was necessary.
Even now, when the number of thoughts in one morning was breaking all records, Harry managed to maneuver between people walking with their usual measured pace, colored with a faint touch of city bustle. Some people were looking at Harry suspiciously. Why was he in such a hurry? What for? What’s wrong with him?
Harry noticed their distrustful looks, but ignored them. The opinion of strangers worried him, but in such a state he wasn’t ready to figure it out.
A few blocks away Harry would have walked out to the quay, the favorite place to stroll for a lot of people, including the Nelsons. But now he wanted to change his usual route and turned around the corner of the house closest to the quay. Harry didn’t remember ever walking that road.
Harry always considered the quay house’s facade as if not an architectural masterpiece, then at least a successful construction and a real pride of the street. However, to Harry’s surprise, the other side of the house was… shabby. It seemed it hadn’t been repaired for a long time. The paint faded, the drainpipes were deformed and some balconies started crumbling.
Harry grinned. He wasn’t really happy about his discovery. He could be in the dark about how some familiar things turned out to be different at both sides for much more time. It seemed like many people managed to ignore this difference. Nevertheless, residents and frequent visitors of the street probably knew about its features and «dark» side.
Finishing with his mental irony, Harry kept walking along the house. Nelson didn’t know this district. No one of his acquaintances lived here, there were no nice restaurants, shops, cinemas and other places for pleasant leisure. They say, the beer was good in local pubs, but their appearance scared away people who wanted to taste a good drink. In the modern world the interior influenced on the taste buds and the areas of the brain responsible for receiving pleasure as much as food and drink itself.
Harry walked looking around. Now he was in no hurry. Sometimes he was starting to feel in another city or even in another time. He ignored taverns with dirty windows and declining signboards. He didn’t like their appearance. If the owners didn’t care about the cleanliness and tidiness of the entrance, then there could be no guarantee of compliance with sanitary and hygienic standards.
Pub, pub, pub… Harry walked along the street and didn’t sincerely understand how all these restaurants survived in a place where there were almost no pedestrians and cars. As if to refute his thoughts an old and beaten up car passed by, and it was as shabby as everything on this street.
Pub, another one with a more intricate signboard. How many were there? And again a pub, a pub, a library.
A library?
Seriously? A library?
Harry stopped suddenly. The library looked the same as the surrounding pubs. Only the windows shades were tightly shut.
Library, big deal… That could be a name of one of the pubs. Quite an original one, by the way, and such originality could easily attract visitors. However, so far there were no crowds eager to spend time here. Harry kept walking, but after ten meters he stopped and turned back.
He was just standing here for a few seconds, staring thoughtfully at the signboard, and then looked around the street on all sides. The street still seemed deserted and forgotten. Harry heard hum and voices from a pub, but the sounds were like a low-quality television recording in the background of the whole silence. Perhaps the voices were even a figment of Harry’s imagination, or they were heard from the netherworld that still was a question to scientists.
Harry quickly went back not to change his mind, walked to the threshold of the library, hesitated a little, and put his hand on a large doorknob. Before he opened the door, he took one last look at the surrounding reality. It was the same.
Harry himself would really like also to stay the same or at least feel confident in his own decisions. So far, all he felt was some goose bumps on his arms.
The door looked massive and crooked.
«I wish it didn’t open», Harry thought, and tried the handle. The door opened with a squeak, but easily. Harry even wondered how simple it was to pass through this obstacle.
There was nothing behind the door besides a shabby wooden floor, bare gray walls, and a dim bulb hanging alone in a light dusty lampshade. The room was shaped like an elongated rectangle.
A hallway. Harry had no other option.
He carefully closed the door behind him and passed forward along this strange dark corridor. Surely, it had nothing to do with a pub. Weird, almost tangible silence was literally vanishing in the air.
Harry saw another source of light around the left bend. Probably another lampshade. And Nelson went to the light like a moth. Harry wondered if there was at least one living person in the library, or if this relic of the past was just abandoned and uninhabited.
After the first step Harry realized that the floor not only looked old, but it was really very old. Its boards were squeaking, and Harry had to be careful and walk slowly. Any odd sounds were confusing.
The most ordinary writing desk appeared around the corner on which there was a high uneven pile of countless papers. An old-fashioned desk lamp decorated a table corner. According to the price list of a furniture store, it could be counted as a night lamp.
Near the wall Harry could see an antique wooden chest of drawers. Its surface was also marked by a pile of folders and papers.
A man