Meet up at Bryant Park

Margareth

Bryant ParkMargareth was proud of her work and of her position. And the people who knew her were in favor of seeing her as a good financial consultant, with a quality that could hardly be precisely defined, and that her most discerning clients identified in a kind of wonderful certainty that what was being decided about or diversification of the securities of a portfolio or a brilliant pick-up would have been a sure success.

With slow steps, she approached the large window of his office, at the 30th - and even last - floor of HSBC Tower, 452 Fifth Avenue, New York: during the night the wind had swept the sky from all the clouds, and the view was magnificent.
Then, as he had done before, she took a key from the desk, closed the office door behind him, ran up the two flights of stairs and then - two turns in the lock and a push - went out onto the terrace!

Now nothing stood in front of her eyes and, satisfied, she could look up to the Hudson to the left, to the East River to the right and, behind him, to all the Central Park to the north, ... and beyond, and beyond! Then, as always, her gaze slowly receded, retracing the previous vision backwards, until she pinned herself on Bryant Park just below her: New Yorker for generations, she loved her city, and in particular she loved that meadow which today shone like a face well polished of an enormous emerald.

The Bryant Park! ... Always well cared for and clean, with all those chairs and tables under the plants arranged around the rectangle of green lawn, where she went to read, or consume fast food, or at other times simply to lie down and sunbathe with her feet barefoot on the grass.
And then, in winter, all November and December, that ice rink, the Winter Village, and those shops with yellow, green, multicolored glass windows, where you can buy everything, useful and useless, a drink, a coffee, a snack, or a nice souvenir. Or even go and get your favorite book from the adjacent New York Public Library, then read it sitting on one of the many chairs available, for example, next to the statue of William C. Bryant !, poet and journalist, or next to the circular fountain , or in one of the shady alleys around the park, or in full light in the park.

 It was ok at Bryant Park! And so it also had to be for the many people, New Yorkers or tourists, who used to be there without a disturbing point - and this was always a source of wonder for her! - the peace of that oasis in the frenetic pulse of the metropolis. And so it had to be for the many people, New Yorkers or tourists, who used to be there without a disturbing point - and this was always a source of wonder for her! - the peace of that oasis in the frenetic pulse of the metropolis. And then she smiled, while a thought crossed her mind: even that day she would have lunch at the Grill, inside Bryant Park, where she had an appointment with Jeff.

She looked at the clock! She had to return to the office to examine the general situation of the certificates, which were the titles she most favored and suggested to his customers. Then the appointment ..., and so he had to hurry! Therefore, she left the terrace, went down the two flights of stairs, returned to the office, and placed several folders on the large desk.

The Certificates! Ductile and complex, she often advised them, thus adjusting precarious situations, reinforcing weaknesses and, in general, giving more dynamism and prospects to each client's financial framework.

The choice of a "certifiche ... eets" - as she nicely pronounced the word, first purposely trailing the "e", and then suddenly cutting it off with that final "ts" - had been happening for some time following a personal pattern that basically took into account the performance of the financial market, the characteristics of the best underlying and the probable expected returns, and above all the specific risk profile of the customer.

She looked at the clock again: 1.20pm ... in time for the Bryant Park Grill!
After a few minutes, Margareth, about 35, light as a gazelle, smooth sloping and short hair, green-blue eyes, slender figure, walked in small, fast steps along the W 40 Sth: there were not few people who, crossing her, they turned to look at her.

Jeff

Jeff looked at his wristwatch, 1:10 pm. He lived on W 54th St, and first had his own account at the HSBC Bank at 666 5th Ave, a stone's throw from his home. Margareth also worked in this branch before, and so they met. And yet, when Margareth was transferred from office to the HSC Bank, 452 Fifth Avenue, near Bryant Park, then Jeff also had his account transferred there. Therefore, they continued to meet.

It took about twenty minutes to reach Margareth al Bryant at 1:30 pm, so if she wanted to be on time for the appointment, she had to decide right away. There were moments of obvious and nervous hesitation. Then Jeff started to walk: with a firm step he turned into 5th Ave, between the Museum of Modern Art and the Microsoft Store, and went straight down the Bryant.

Jeff showed between 65 and 70 years old, tall, medium tall, thin, broad shoulders, thick white hair. He walked absorbed in his thoughts ... one of those many who wear their solitude printed on him. He had therefore retired for some years when he met Margareth at HSBC Bank, 666 5th Ave, the branch near his home and where - as mentioned - he had his account.

"I can be your consultant, if you agree."

This was the first sentence Margareth had addressed to him. And unexpectedly he had added: "Look, I'm very intelligent, and I could make her pay for it!"

And Jeff had answered yes, and repeated yes, and then again, conquered by that declaration a little funny, but so nicely uninhibited and original.

The appointment

"Hi," said Margareth, spreading her open right hand forward.

"Hi," Jeff replied, and squeezed his hand slightly.

Margareth was sitting with her back to the large window of the Bryant Park Grill overlooking the lawn, and the light filtered through her hair highlighting her face. Jeff looked at her: he had never seen her so beautiful!

 "Sit down," said Margareth.

Jeff took his place slowly in front of her, not ceasing to look at her in silence.

"What are you taking?" Margareth asked casually, trying at the same time to react to the intensity of that look.

"Nothing, thank you," Jeff replied.

"At least one ice cream! Here they do it really good, "Margareth insisted.

"Then ice cream is fine."

A pause of silence followed, which neither of them showed to want to interrupt. Then Margareth motioned to a waiter who was passing by their table at that moment. After the ordination, Margareth dissolved the silence first, asking him:

"So what did you want to tell me?"

 Jeff seemed to hesitate, as if he couldn't find the right words to start. Then, he said firmly:

"I want to talk to you about something. Actually, this thing I wanted to tell you some time ago, but never succeeding, even because in your office, when I start talking, I'm never sure I can finish, either because the phone rings, or because a colleague comes in, or else ... "

"You are right. Now I also understand the reason for this appointment. Well; but now I can hear you, "Margareth replied.

Jeff stirred a little in his chair, as if he could no longer find the right way to talk. Then, however, with a resolute gesture, he stood up with his torso, and leaned slightly forward toward her. Now his tone was firm, calm, resolute.

 "Margareth," he said, "we have known each other for several years, during which time we met in your office, you as my financial advisor and I as your client, to discuss obviously securities, opportunities, gains, losses, to buy , to sell, all beautiful things, but rather dry, and I think that just to counteract this aridity, above all thanks to your sensitivity and intelligence, we have sometimes spoken even a little of us, of our facts and human feelings, obviously within the limits of a mutual privacy. Then I got into the habit of sharing with you facts and trends in the financial market, sending you reports via @mail about news and financial data, the ones I sometimes defined with the term 'updates' in the subject of e-mail".

At this point, Jeff broke off, and was silent for a while, that Margareth in turn interrupted, exclaiming: "Yes, that's right! But that's not what you wanted to tell me!"

"Of course not! Excuse me if I don't go straight to the fact, but the contrary could be so destructive for me that I would regret bitterly having taken this appointment with you and talking about my problem: what would be the use of speaking, if it does not clarify and doesn't it solve that problem, or if - even worse! - it painfully increase it? "

Margareth said nothing, and waited for Jeff to finish.

A long pause followed, during which Jeff's concentration effort was evident to clarify with the right words.

"Just being friends," Jeff replied, "here's what I want!"

"But the two of us are already friends ...", Margareth promptly replied.

"No, you're wrong. True friends hang out. "

"But this is impossible!", replied Margareth. "We have both our tracks."

"The tracks! What binary? We are not trains. We have no tracks, but feelings, ideals, aspirations, passions. And then, even trains sometimes derail, so why can't we derail ourselves too, if the derailment makes us conquer a little happiness and serenity in this world where we talk about money, more money, and then again and again and again, damn of money!"

A diner in the hall turned to them, and Jeff realized he had let himself go a little. When the diner looked away, he added slowly, in a subdued voice: "I once read that a man and a woman, who live in different places, see themselves once a year, for many years, and it continues quietly and happily. "

That said, Jeff fell silent. He neither wanted nor could he say anything else.

Margareth thought for a long time, then resolutely said:

"No, it can't go. It starts with being just friends, then you want something more, and can you assure me now that I can give you that extra something even a more or less close tomorrow? And even if yes, until when? "

"I can't tell you this now. You could tell me ... later! ", answered Jeff, with a certain malice. But this aspect is secondary."

"No, don't call it secondary. You do not notice it, but you are deceiving yourself. "

And she added, assuming a tone of seriousness and security: "You can be sure that what you call the secondary time will become overwhelmingly primary after a very short time, and in this way we would inexorably enter a spiral that could destroy both. Therefore, I ask you to do this little one effort today, rather than a bigger one tomorrow ”.

"I just don't understand. Should I make an effort aimed at what? An effort to be unhappy? After all, I ask you to be just friends, seeing us sometimes, and making us only company. It will be enough for me! "

Margareth didn't answer, because she didn't know what to answer.

"When can I see you again?" Jeff asked.

On Margareth's face the signs of an evident inner contrast appeared, when in a low but intelligible voice she answered him saying: "How do you mean today: never! As before, at the office, compatibly with work commitments: yes, whenever you want ”.

Jeff realized that there was nothing else to add, and then he got up wearily from his chair, holding out his hand.

When Margareth took it from him, and lightly squeezed it, she felt a deep emotion, because she understood how much Jeff loved her.

And, on the other hand, even his handshake had to communicate something beneficial to Jeff, because for a moment his face cleared a little, due to a drop in tension that had built up inside him.

Immediately afterwards, Jeff started for the exit. When Margareth saw him disappear, a slight tremor seized her person.

At Sapphyre.

Jeff walked out of Bryant Park and walked to the intersection of E 42nd St and 3d Ave. Then he stopped. He felt as if he had been emptied inside, and remained undecided for about a minute whether to go home on foot or by metro. Then he decided: walking would do him good, and he would let him think more calmly.

After about 30 minutes, he arrived near the intersection of 3d Ave with 60nd St, near his home. He thought it was not a good idea to come back right away: he was also hungry. Better the Sapphyre, Prime 333, nearby ... it would also be distracted!

At the reception immediately an attendant offered to accompany him, and so Jeff was ushered into a spacious rectangular hall.
Everywhere diffused, reddish light, which created shadows. On the left side, a bar with high stools, a large rectangular mirror with various shelves, on which there were bottles of well-selected wines and champagne, as well as brand-name spirits and liqueurs. At Sapphyre the spirits flow like rivers!
At the center was a platform with a vertical steel bar, very shiny, for the performance of the dancers. All around were small tables with a round top, each surrounded by four comfortable armchairs in brown leather, with a high and enveloping back, two on the opposite side to each table and two side by side.

Jeff took his place at a table a few steps from the platform, in one of the two lateral armchairs at the table still free, while the other two were occupied by a couple in their forties, of a discreet and somewhat reserved appearance. He ordered a steak and chose a Cabernet Sauvignon as wine.

At the bar was a continuous succession of dancers with perfect body measurements, performing in excellent acrobatics, singly or even in pairs, showing the remarkable parts of their body under all possible angles.

"Perfect, everything perfect, but also tiring in the long run! It would be time to leave! ”, Thought Jeff, who had already eaten the steak.

He was about to get up from his chair, when he noticed that the attention of some table neighbors was now turned towards a slender and light lady who walked slowly towards the vacant chair beside her.

With simplicity, the slim and light lady greeted Jeff and the couple next door, and then took a seat with a few supple but natural movements.

"Boring show, right?" He said without preamble to Jeff, who was stunned by this simple but surprising observation.

"How did he figure it out?" Jeff replied, astonished by so much promptness and simplicity.

"Observing! When I entered the room, I stopped for a few minutes to observe the faces of each of the customers present in the room. In the end, I focused on her because I perceived - and to be sure, in an uncertain and minimal way - that she and I could have some problems in common.

"What kind?" Jeff asked, very intrigued.

"Well, he won't pretend that I can talk to him about staying in this room!"

"Sure. He's right. But it seems to me that in Sapphyre reserved spaces are available, in which you can easily converse. We can ask the staff of the restaurant! "

"Agreed," replied the seductive elegant lady.

After five minutes, Jeff and the seductive elegant lady were comfortably seated on a large sofa in one of that series of small rooms that looked out onto a long corridor, silent and dim, with plush carpets.

The seductive and elegant lady told of having entered her husband's office without being announced by the secretary, who was sick, and having caught him in intimacy with a woman: a classic!

In turn, Jeff began to describe his problem to the seductive elegant lady, but after a few moments, extending the description to moods and not to facts, he began to fumble between uncertain and inaccurate sentences. And so it was that, to the umpteenth attempt, the seductive elegant lady put her finger to Jeff's lips: a moment later she was upon him astride, staring intently at his face. An intense sexual relationship followed, which had roots in accumulated and unresolved tensions.

As the seductive elegant lady adjusted herself to go out and leave, Jeff asked her if they could see each other again.

"No," she answered firmly. "Other problems would be born!", and soon after she disappeared from his sight.

When Jeff returned home, he went straight to his bedroom: soon after he fell into a deep sleep.

At Battery Park.

During the night, again - for the second consecutive night! - a strong and continuous northern wind, a real boon for all New Yorkers, had swept away all the gas accumulated during the day on the metropolis and on its most distant offshoots, and at 9 am a splendid sun towered in a blue sky flooding light the island of Manhattan: to Jeff - at the window of the 50th floor of his apartment - it seemed the first day of creation!

That show had the power to awaken in Jeff ancient memories, which in turn turned into an irresistible desire: take a leap to his favorite park, Battery Park!

After less than half an hour Jeff came out of the garage driving his car. He immediately looked at the navigator, who at that time advised him on NY-9AS. He then walked down West 54th Street to the intersection, and then turned left: he thought with satisfaction that the NY-9AS, which, along the Hudson, was more airy and open!

When he reached the height of Burberry at the World Trade Center, two thoughts crossed Jeff's mind almost simultaneously: the attack on the Twin Towers; there was little left for Battery Park! And in fact, after a while he would park the car at the State Pearl garage.

Entering the park, Jeff started walking on the Battery Promenade, overlooking the sea and the Statue of Liberty in the distance. He still loved to walk among the street lamps and the benches scattered everywhere, as he often did together with his wife Mary and his children Tom and Amanda who were still little. Tom had been married for some years now, but Jeff remembered him when as a child, at the sight of the circular fountain with lots of jets of water coming from the bottom, he didn't think twice about undressing quickly, remaining only in briefs and making himself invest by laughing from the jets of water. Amanda, on the other hand, preferred to stay out of it, escaping from the splashes of water that Tom cleverly directed towards her with lateral strokes of the hands.

At Battery Park he had first met his wife.

Mary was really beautiful, at sixteen! Blue, big, bright green eyes. Wide, sensual mouth. Thin waist, beautiful hips. Black hair, long, a little curly, according to the fashion of those years. Rebellious attitude, of those who do not accept rules. Ultimately, Mary was definitely interesting.

 Jeff had courted her for a long time, but she always escaped. He escaped, but did not refuse that court. Jeff felt it, but the more he pressed, the more she curled up: it seemed to become more and more impregnable. Years of courtship. Then for Jeff things changed for the better following an apparently insignificant episode ... One evening, Jeff and Mary found themselves together at a dance party with friends. It happened that Mary danced with everyone, but rejected Jeff's repeated invitations to dance. Until yet another invitation, Mary agreed to dance, probably persuaded by some common friend who had pointed out that she was not well, that she was civilly incorrect, and stuff like that. And yet, while they were dancing, and the orchestra performed "The Pretender", maybe Jeff shook it to himself a little more than the politically correct: in turn Mary, who struggled a little to resist the tight court that lasted a long time, she heard once again however in his heart the desire not to give it to him, to affirm his freedom, his sentimental independence, of which he was proud. Mary then made the act of dropping him in the middle of the room. But Jeff did not give her this chance: lightly, he removed a shoe from her foot, put it under her nose, and with a firm and firm tone he said to her: "If you allow yourself, I'll give you this shoe on your head!" The fact is that, at this point, Mary looked at the shoe, then looked at Jeff's face, and in that face also read what was not said. And then, simulating a fake gesture, he approached Jeff, showing yes that he wanted to continue dancing, but with an expression on his face of forced resignation. And Jeff thought it was finally done: the rose had been picked!

There were many memories related to Battery Park! Mary never left the Park before giving a symbolic greeting to the three sailors of the bronze sculpture of the American Merchant Mariner. And Jeff remembered well, even after some time, in all the details, the expression that Margareth's face assumed when she watched the scene: three sailors, terrified because they were stuck on a sinking merchant ship, asking for help and trying to reach the desperate hand of one of their companions struggling in the water below; a plaque, then, reports this brief cruel note: "Left to the dangers of the sea, the survivors later perished".

Jeff was a very distracted dreamer, capable of forgetting Mary's birthday; and yet she was forgiven, by way of compensation, because she was also capable of small, unpredictable gestures, like that day when she gave her a wonderful silk scarf, printed with marvelous brilliant polychromatic designs and purchased from Saks Fifth Avenue, and which Jeff handed over to Mary along with a note on which he had written: "May this scarf caress your soft hair and frame your beautiful eyes, which shine like alpine lakes, in the shadow of the overhanging mountain chains". Dedicates rhetoric, and certainly also a tad bit cloying, but not lacking in a certain charge of suggestion!

These memories came to Jeff's mind as he walked along the paths of Battery Park. And yet Jeff thought he hadn't come to Battery Park just to remember. The main problem was Margareth; more precisely, the nature and extent of his feelings towards her, and how and why he got there: he absolutely had to understand how to remove them, or at least modify them, on pain of his inner balance. Moreover, his feelings towards Margareth became inexorably the more inappropriate the more time passed. Years! Jeff remembered he already had 70, and he had fewer when he first met Margareth. But Jeff still felt young then. And then, it was enough to think of Margareth and everything became airy, light; everything acquired a special, light, happily carefree sense. Then, slowly, and above all the desire to find an outlet for that stalemate, he began to weigh on him. He was looking for a solution, he had to do something. But exactly what could he do?

"First of all I have to interrupt this continuous and uncontrolled flow of thoughts, otherwise I go crazy!", Thought Jeff, and instinctively, looking around, he realized he was near the statue of John Ericsson.

"... why did they put it here?" He asked himself, and this made it possible to interrupt that flow at least temporarily.

Now he remembered: Ericsson had revolutionized maritime military technology. In fact, he had first been the designer of the Princeton frigate, equipped with an innovative screw propeller and other avant-garde mechanical devices. When, however, during a demonstration, a large Princeton cannon accidentally exploded, causing several deaths, it seemed that his career had reached the finish line. And yet, several years later, John Ericsson returned to success with the design of the Monitor, an armored warship.

Jeff walked and remembered.

"I can be your consultant, if you agree. Look, I'm very clever, and I could make her pay for it! "Said Margareth.

Jeff followed for months of great euphoria, during which he often went to see Margareth talking about financial stocks and markets, but also about more and less. Sometimes they even came down together for a coffee, or simply for a break, and those moments of extreme lightness Jeff often remembered them with nostalgia, ... also because lately it was no longer so!

And yet one day, separated from Margareth and one of her friends only by a window, unseen, she could hear fragments of their dialogue:

"I like Jeff!", said Margareth.

"But he is old ...!" Replied the friend.

"Yes, but I like he anyway!"

And nothing else, because Jeff, on the subject of being discovered, left abruptly. But that brief dialogue certainly never forgot him. And it was precisely that dialogue that marked the beginning of a latent crisis, a sort of small sentimental war, between him trying to persuade her to meet sometimes somewhere, and she who invariably replied that it was impossible.

Besides, Margareth was married.

Moreover, Jeff was starting to get nervous when Margareth was busy with important clients, with whom she had to talk for a long time. So also, reluctantly, he left his office when she begged him to leave her alone because he had urgent and important matters to attend to.

Epilogue.

Meanwhile, it was time for lunch. Slowly, he started towards the Battery Garden, with its large windows and excellent views across the bay. He spent some hours there after lunch, reading some newspapers and magazines bought nearby.

And then Jeff thought of that river of people who had passed and who had represented, for better or for worse, a powerful lifeblood not only for the Big Apple but for all the United States; people who had to part with their dearest loved ones to seek their fortune in the new world; people who, in the tough daily struggle, even in the new environment, had had to cancel, or ultimately place, the eventual opportunities and emotional needs that had presented themselves to them.

Jeff thought of this, as the sun's glowing disc began to lick the waters of the Upper Bay; but then a dazzling new thought crossed his mind: that long day, the stroll, the continuous bypassing of his mental attention from the Margareth problem to details of the park and from these back to Margareth, had changed something in his soul.

And then Jeff didn't want to go deeper, but he did a strange thing. He picked up his cell phone, pressed the camera key, framed and focused his own face, and stayed that way for almost a minute, watching himself closely. He saw himself, and became aware that it was no longer time for certain situations. Then, after putting the phone back in his pocket, he started toward the garage near the park. After about ten months, Jeff had taken the car back to the State Pearl garage; after about thirty minutes, he had returned home.

In the kitchen, after a brief and frugal dinner, he approached a calendar hanging on the wall, and took note of a marked date: there were only four days before Mary and Amanda returned from Philadelphia, where they had gone to visit a relative .
The next day he would buy a present for both.

After about a month, Jeff called Margareth on her bank phone number.
"Hello, Margareth."
"Hello, Mr. Jeff."
"I have a title that interests me. Before moving, I would like to hear your opinion. When can I come to the bank?"
"Is it okay Monday at 10:00 am next week?"
"Yes, that's fine," Jeff replied.
"Well, confirmed for Monday at 10 am," Margareth replied.
"Thank you," said Jeff, "... and have a nice day!"
"Have a nice day," Margareth answered, and ended the call.
 

I RACCONTI DI ZEFERINO:

Quel temporale estivo sulla spiaggia ...
Incontrarsi al Bryant Park
GIOSUE' e CARMINE.
Un Fiore di Montagna.
La Nuvoletta Solitaria

CONTES DE ZEFERINO:

Cette tempête d'été sur la plage...
Rendez-vous à Bryant Park
GIOSUE' et CARMINE
Une fleur de montagne
Le Nuage Solitaire

TALES OF ZEFERINO:

That summer storm on the beach ...
Meet at Bryant Park
GIOSUE' e CARMINE
A Mountain Flower
The Lonely Cloud

 


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Tags: Bryant Park, Certificates, Margareth, Sapphyre, Ellis Island, HSBCTower, New York

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